Wright that Got Away (Wright)

“If we can get all the kinks out here, probably a couple months.”

“Really?” I asked. “That fast?”

“Yeah. Bands used to record a whole album in a night. They just record all day and night, and ta-da, it’s done.”

“But you don’t work that way?” The camera was on his face as he spoke to me about his process.

“I mean, I do. I could sit down today and lay out three or four songs. But to get them right, we have to spend the time on them. I don’t want to rush this.”

I smiled up at him. At the certainty about him. All that nervous energy he always had evaporated when he talked about music. As if when he had a guitar in his hands, he channeled it all into something epic.

“So, after this set, we break for lunch.” I looked up at him over my camera. He ran his hand back through his hair. “If you want to get lunch with me.”

“With you or the band?”

He grinned. “Me?”

“Maybe the band.”

“All right. Fair.”

He shot me one more grin before heading back into the studio. He slung his guitar over his head and talked through the rest of the song with them. Now that Michael was caught up, Weston returned to his perch.

I watched, mesmerized, as they worked through this new song. It was going to be a huge hit. I could already tell. Might even be the one that they opened the album with. And it all started because of me.

19

Campbell

Music spoke to my soul.

It sounded cliché, but it was the goddamn truth. We were making magic in this studio. Even as disgruntled as Michael appeared, he couldn’t resist the allure of the new sounds we were producing. Something that Bobby Rogers was going to be salivating for as soon as he heard “Rooftop Nights.”

It was that big top 40 hit we hadn’t had last album. The one that you just had to tap your foot to and bob your head and dance and rave and lose yourself in. I was already losing myself to it.

And it was all about Blaire. About fireworks in the night sky and kissing under the starlight and dancing the night away. It wasn’t what had happened. The girl didn’t run in my version, but it was a hundred and ten percent the beautiful siren seated in the booth, watching me. Having her here made it all the better, too. Like I was singing my feelings without having to tell her exactly what was between us. Without asking any of those questions. It was how we’d always worked together.

I wanted more, more, more.

One kiss was never going to be enough.

We played for another hour before Santi finally called it quits. “That’s it, man. I need sustenance to survive, bro.”

The rest of the band filed out after him, but despite the long hours in the studio, we were all aglow. As if the music filled them up just as much as it fueled me.

“So, where to?” Santi asked, slinging an arm around Blaire’s shoulders.

I crossed my arms in silent protest. Santi gave me a shit-eating look. He knew precisely how I felt about Blaire at this point. If the music didn’t say it, her being here and how I’d been acting clearly did. I’d dated briefly in the years since we’d been in Cosmere, but nothing was ever like Blaire. If I was reacting to anything at all, he counted it as a win.

“Uh, we’re close to Dirk’s. It’s a fried chicken place,” Blaire suggested.

“Done,” Viv said. She smacked Santi on the back of the head, and they all headed out the door.

“You coming, too, West?” I asked.

He shook his head. “You go on ahead. I’m going to work on this.”

“Want us to bring you something back?” Blaire offered.

“I’m good.”

He waved us off, and we followed the band out. Blaire directed us to the restaurant. We grabbed a large round table at the front and put in our order. Cartoon artwork covered every available inch of brick wall space. I’d never seen anything like it.

“This place is cool.”

“It’s named for the former mayor and Lubbock-area cartoonist,” Blaire explained. “This is all his original artwork.”

“I dig it,” Yorke said with a nod.

Viv looked over Santi’s shoulder after his phone pinged. Her eyes widened. “I’m so jealous.”

Santi grinned wider, and I only had to guess at what she saw on his screen. Santi was infamous for asking for nudes from women. And neither Santi nor Viv had shut up about Eve since they’d met her. Viv wouldn’t do anything unless Kris was here, which meant Santi had won out this time.

“You should be,” Santi agreed.

“About what?” Blaire asked.

I huffed. “Don’t bother.”

“Eve,” Santi said dreamily.

Blaire looked between them in surprise. “What about my new roommate?”

“She moved in with you? I didn’t know that,” I said.