Controlled Chaos (Love and Lyrics 1)

“I didn’t think you’d want to spend your Friday night eating chicken fingers and cake,” I say with a laugh. “Surely, a famous rock star like yourself has other, more interesting plans.”

“I thought I heard you out here,” my mom says, stepping outside.

“I thought you were at your book club.” I glance at Camden.

“We were. Sophia held it here this week.” She envelops Felix in a hug. “This is such a pleasant surprise. Sophia made brownies. Would you like one?”

“Yes!” Felix lights up.

“Oh, actually, we were going to go to Juniors,” I tell her.

“Nonsense. We have tons of sweets here,” she says as the other women in the book club file out, saying goodbye to all of us. “I feel like I haven’t seen my grandbaby all week. Have you been hiding?” she asks Felix playfully.

“I made Daddy a card for his birthday, and Mommy got him a cake, but he yelled at Mommy and made us leave.”

Mom’s eyes fling over to me as my heart sinks. Guess he understood a bit more than I thought.

“Daddy’s just having a bad day,” I explain, the defense of David’s disgusting actions tasting like sour lemons on my tongue.

“There he is!” Gage booms, stepping out of a Town Car, followed by Declan and Braxton. “We’ve been blowing your phone up. Lush. Tonight.”

“Did you say Lush?” Bailey asks, rushing out the door. “I’ve been dying to check out that club. It’s hard as hell to get into, but of course you got an invite. I’m in.”

Declan snorts. “Who said you’re invited?” He pulls Bailey into a side hug and ruffles her hair.

“Me,” Bailey sasses. “What time are we leaving?” She glances at me. “Layla and I need time to get ready, and I need to let Cynthia know. She’s been dying to check out that club.”

“Wait… what?” I say, confused at the turn of events.

“Not sure,” Declan says. “Camden, what time do you want to head out?”

“Eh…” He shrugs. “I think I’m going to sit this one out.”

The guys, all at once, start giving him shit.

“You should go,” Mom says to me. “You haven’t been out in a while. I can spend the evening with Felix.”

“We were supposed to go to Juniors,” I say again.

“I wanna stay with Grandma. Please.” Felix hits me with his damn puppy eyes. “I’ll go with you to Juniors tomorrow. C’mon, Grandma, let’s go eat brownies. Bye, Mom!” he yells, dragging my mom inside the Blackwoods’.

“You in?” Declan asks me.

“Sure, why not.”

“Nice. Now, what time are we leaving, Pretty Boy?” Declan asks, calling Camden by his nickname the guys dubbed him years ago because he doesn’t look like your typical rocker. He’s, well, pretty. With gorgeous emerald eyes, soft, wavy hair, a natural tan that women would kill for, and a face that looks way too innocent and sweet to be singing the crude words he sings on a nightly basis, Camden is the face of Raging Chaos. He’s also, without a doubt, the prettiest of the four guys, who are in contrast rough and dark and exactly what you’d imagine a bad boy rock star to look like—covered in tattoos with piercings in various places. Camden, on the other hand, has no tattoos or piercings… as far as I know.

“I thought you said you weren’t going,” I say to Camden, whose eyes are locked on me.

“I am now.” He glances at the guys. “Let’s leave around nine.”

“Oh, should I be filming this?” I ask, switching into work mode.

“No,” Camden says. “You should focus on having a good time.”

It’s my first time at a nightclub, and I’m having a blast. The liquor is flowing, the music is thumping, and Bailey, Cynthia, and I are dancing our hearts out on the dance floor. Cynthia is sweet and totally has googly eyes for Bailey. They’re so cute together, and I hope it works out between them.

When I stepped out of Bailey’s room, dressed in one of her strapless mini dresses, I could feel Camden’s heated stare. My tattoo was on full display, and if the way his eyes seared into me was anything to go by, he was thinking about when he saw it peeking out from under my towel the other day—when I lied and told him it was a drunken mistake.

Because it’s November in New York and cold as hell outside, I covered up with a thick coat, hiding it away. But the second I removed it at the club, he was back to staring at it. If the other guys noticed it, they didn’t comment.

We were escorted straight to VIP with the guys’ security, where we’ve spent the night drinking and dancing. Camden hasn’t said much, but the way his eyes haven’t left me almost all night feels like he has a lot to say—only I’m too chicken to find out what.