Wright that Got Away (Wright)

She grinned like a fiend. “You sure? It’s only temporary. Don’t you want your own space?”

“Don’t worry about it. As long as you need to be here. Plus, I figured you should have your privacy.”

“All right,” she said with a smile. “Thanks.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “Did Hollin talk to you?”

Weston crossed his arms. “Yeah. Are you going to give me the same speech?”

“Do I need to?”

“No.”

“Then, we’re good,” I told him. “Just don’t touch my sister.”

He blanched. “Hollin went into detail.”

I laughed. “I bet he did.”

Hollin was intimidating enough for the both of us. West had clearly gotten the picture.

I glanced into the spare room as I went to get another box and froze. “Oh, is that a vintage Fender Strat?” I asked, ogling his collection.

Weston lit up. “Yeah, dude. It’s my favorite guitar. I have a few others, but I almost always play the Strat.”

I could see why. It was in pristine condition. They didn’t even make guitars like this anymore. As much as I loved the latest and greatest, I had a huge affinity for the original trailblazer guitars. They just had something to them.

“Do you mind if I…”

“Not at all,” Weston said.

I stepped into the music room. He had every manner of instrument set up inside. He had just moved in this morning and this room looked like it was the first thing he’d put together. Which meant he and I were very alike. Instruments were the first thing I cared about, too. There were two keyboards and an upright piano against the long wall. Then, three electric and two acoustic guitars, a bass, an electric drum set, a saxophone, trumpet, and harmonica.

“You play all of these?” I pulled the strap of the Fender over my head and began to tune her. She was already almost perfectly in tune. Oh, yes, I liked her.

“Yeah. I prefer keys, but I can do a bit of everything. When you play backup, it helps to be able to jump in wherever they need you.”

I experimentally plucked a few chords. The ones I’d been working on for “Invisible Girl” last night. “That’s a fact. You must have an ear for it to be able to play them all well though. I’ve been working on keys the last couple years, but guitar is always going to feel like home.”

“Yeah, that’s how I feel about the piano. My mom started me in lessons when I was five.”

Nora poked her head in. “What is going on in here?”

I shot her a grin. “I found the guitars.”

“Dear God,” she groaned. “I’m never going to get you out of there, am I?”

I affectionately looked down at the Strat. “I’ll come back for you later.”

“You are outrageous,” Nora grumbled. “Come move something.”

I pulled the guitar back over my head and handed it off to Weston. “Thanks for letting me try her out. I dig it.”

“What was that you were playing?”

“New song that I’m working on.”

“Thought it might be,” he said with a nod. “I think I know all of Cosmere’s chords, and it didn’t sound familiar.”

“Yeah? That’s cool,” I said. I forgot that I was a celebrity and that, yeah…someone this into music probably new my catalog. It was the sort of thing I had done with Weezer, Green Day, and Nirvana before I rose to fame. Sometimes, it was still surreal to think that my band could even exist beside those greats.

We headed out of the music room and back to grab more boxes for Nora.

“So, Julian said you got a job at a local studio in town?”

Weston nodded. “Yeah, it’s just part-time. But I figure something is better than nothing.”

The wheels were moving in my mind. “Any chance I could stop by and get some studio time in?”

Weston’s head jerked to me so fast that he was going to have a crick in his neck. His eyes were wide. He tried to play it cool after that, but he didn’t quite manage it. “Uh, yeah. I think…you know, I think anyone would want you in their studio.”

“I couldn’t use any of the recordings, but it might help me get some of these ideas out of my head.”

Weston nodded emphatically. “You let me know when, and I’ll be there.”

I laughed and reached for another box. “Sounds good.”

Already, ideas were swirling away in my mind. Studio time without the band, without my manager, without the record label breathing down my neck. It might be just what I needed to figure out what I wanted to bring to the table and where I wanted to take Cosmere.

There was only one problem.

If I was going to record “Invisible Girl,” I needed to talk to Blaire first. Fuck.

7

Blaire

Honey held up my phone. “All set. Ready when you are.”

Nate King stood at my side, looking as scrumptious as ever. He’d come back from New York City yesterday and driven straight into town. Before he’d left, we’d agreed to film this dance sequence together. It was a newer trend, where you walked down the middle of the street, performing this specific dance number. Soccer and track were more my forte, but apparently, I didn’t have to be a great dancer to do this kind of dancing. My followers didn’t seem to care. And they cared even less when a hunk was dancing next to me.