* * *

  Subject: Re: Meet up

  * * *

  Campbell,

  * * *

  Sure. I could do this afternoon. What time is good for you?

  * * *

  Best,

  Blaire

  I blinked and blinked again. That was the most innocuous…almost-nice response I had ever thought I’d get from her. Should I have read condescension in every syllable? Was her sure more of a surrre? Did it matter?

  She’d said yes. She’d meet me. I could tell her about the song.

  A pit opened in my stomach. Well, fuck. Now, I had to tell her about the song. In abstract, it had seemed like a good idea. The right thing to do. And now, it felt daunting.

  But I had to do it anyway.

  To: blaire@blaireblush.com

  From: campbellsoup@cosmere.com

  * * *

  Subject: Re: Meet up

  * * *

  4pm? I’m coming from a much needed haircut. The Wrights hooked me up with their hairdresser, Lisa. Work for you?

  No backing out now. Not unless she decided to change her mind.

  To: campbellsoup@cosmere.com

  From: blaire@blaireblush.com

  * * *

  Subject: Re: Meet up

  * * *

  4 it is.

  * * *

  Oh, and while you’re here…do you think we could do the I See the Real You challenge? It wouldn’t take long to film. My followers keep asking me to do it, and I think it would be a big surprise.

  A big surprise.

  Fuck me. Just seeing that she’d written that was a huge fucking surprise. She hated that song. People must have really been hounding her to do that fucking challenge if she was desperate enough to ask me to be in the video.

  But shouldn’t she be doing it with Nate?

  I might or might not have stalked her videos and seen that he’d come into town to see her. She’d posted a few videos of them walking around downtown Lubbock, dancing like they were in some high school musical number. They were charismatic. If the effect wasn’t a bit cheesy. Or maybe I just didn’t like the part where she’d put her hand in his and smiled at him like they were a hundred percent an item.

  But she was asking me to do this one. Not him.

  Which had to count for something, right?

  After all, it was her song. I’d written it for her. It only made sense for us to do it together. Except for the fact that I’d spent the e years since the song released protecting her identity. If I showed up in a video with her, there was bound to be speculation.

  She must have already done that math and decided it was worth it. And if she thought it was, then who was I to deny her? It was Blaire. I couldn’t say no anyway.

  To: blaire@blaireblush.com

  From: campbellsoup@cosmere.com

  * * *

  Subject: Re: Meet up

  * * *

  Yeah, I’ll do the challenge. Need me to bring anything for it?

  Fuck. It was happening.

  To: campbellsoup@cosmere.com

  From: blaire@blaireblush.com

  * * *

  Subject: Re: Meet up

  * * *

  Great! Just you and your guitar. On second thought, your leather jacket too.

  Well, this was going to be interesting.

  9

  Blaire

  Afternoon light streamed in through the living room windows. I yawned from my perch on the couch as Honey went through the list of videos we needed to record for the rest of the month. I had my main videos for most of next month already planned out, but there was always room in my schedule for new trends and responses to questions in my videos. Sometimes, it was easier to video-respond to personal questions than to try to type it out.

  It was really what I was most comfortable with anyway. My following had grown so much from trends and that sort of thing, but Blaire Blush was my baby. It was the place I’d invented for other women to feel safe to discuss their issues and to show that our bodies were normal just how they were. Stretch marks, hip dips, skin folds, skin textures, and more. All of those things that the media Photoshopped away, I tried to bring awareness to their normality.

  Women were beautiful in every form and were always a cause for celebration.

  I made sure that enough of my videos showed who I was without the glitz and glamour of makeup and Photoshop and editing. Sometimes, those things were fun. But not at the expense of a woman’s heart.

  “I can’t do another one today, Honey,” I told her. “I am wiped.”

  “All right. No problem. I have a full list here.” She glanced at the Apple watch on her wrist. “It’s almost four o’clock anyway.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Four o’clock. That was when I clocked out for the day. Metaphorically.

  My job was twenty-four/seven, but I had some boundaries. And four was usually my time to send Honey home, stop looking at social media, and try to be present in the real world. If it wasn’t the summer, I’d go for a run outside. But it was currently a hundred degrees outside, so no, thanks.

  A knock on the door jolted me from my thoughts of finally relaxing. Honey’s leg bounced energetically from her spot at the table.

  “Want me to get that?” she asked.

  I groaned. “No. I got it.”

  I came to my feet, pushed my bangs out of my face, and headed to the door. I yanked it open, prepared to see a package had been delivered.

  But in the doorway stood Campbell Abbey.

  My heart lodged in my throat at the sight of him. He’d cut his hair since the last time I’d seen him. It was still long on the top but shaved closer on the sides. His eyes were the light blue of the Caribbean Sea, and his jaw had been chiseled from marble. And I should have hated the same ripped black jeans he always wore and the distressed black T-shirt, but it all paled to how he looked in a leather jacket with his goddamn guitar at his side. It was the Campbell Abbey I’d fallen head over heels for in high school. Almost a vision of the past. As if no time at all had passed between us.

  Then I blinked, and the vision was gone.

  “What are you doing here?” I gasped.

  His brow furrowed, and he stilled, as if struck. “What? What do you mean? You invited me over.”

  “I did no such thing.”

  Campbell’s eyes darted away and then back to me. “I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t responded to my email.”

  “What email?” I asked, dumbfounded.

  Now, he looked thoroughly perplexed. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “You really have no idea what I’m talking about.”

  “No, I don’t. I don’t even check my emails. I…”

  Then, the thought occurred to me. I don’t even check my emails. But someone else did.

  I saw red.

  “Honey!” I yelled, whirling around.

  Honey jumped out of her seat and came running. She was chewing on a lock of her long blonde hair. A sure sign that she was in distress. “Hey, boss. Gah, I meant to tell you.”

  “That you emailed Campbell?”

  “He emailed me!” she cried. “Um, you. He emailed you.”

  Campbell’s jaw dropped open as he came to the same realization that I had. Honey had invited him over to the house at four o’clock when she knew we’d be wrapping up for the day.

  Fuck. What else had she learned by pretending to be me?

  “Did you email me?” I asked him.

  He nodded. “Yeah, I did.”

  I exhaled slowly, trying not to rise to the anger boiling up in my chest. “Could you wait here a minute?”

  “Uh, sure.”

  Then, I latched on to Honey’s arm and dragged her away from the front door. I didn’t stop until we were out of range for Campbell to hear what was about to come out of my mouth.

  “What were you thinking?” I hissed.

  “I know. I’m so sorry. I should have told you. But you hired me to help grow your business, and this will help you grow your business.”

  “Campbell?”

  “Yes. He agreed to do the ‘I See the Real You’ challenge with you.”

  I nearly blew a gasket. “I’m not doing that challenge. And Campbell would never agree to do it with me. He doesn’t even get on social media. He barely knows me.”

  Honey shrugged. “He said he’d do it.”

  “And what else did he say?”

  “Nothing. Just that he wanted to talk to you. And then…I asked if he’d do the challenge.”

  “Honey,” I said, squeezing the bridge of my nose.

  “He said yes though.”

  Well, at least it hadn’t been anything personal. I’d have to read the entire exchange to make sure she didn’t know anything more private. But, Jesus Christ, I’d thought it would be a blessing to get Honey to take over my always-inundated inbox. Now, I was wondering if it was a nightmare.

  “This is crossing a boundary, Honey,” I said, looking her in the eye. “You know that any personal emails that come through are to be flagged for me, unopened. You know that it’s an invasion of my privacy to talk to my friends on that account as me.”

  “I know but—”

  “And furthermore, all decisions about the business go through me. I have the last say on what videos we’re making, what pictures we’re using, what questions I’m answering. I’m Blaire Blush. You don’t get to unilaterally decide what I am doing.”

  “You’re right,” she said automatically. “I just did it for you. I see now that it was too much.”

  I exhaled. “You should go home.”

  Tears welled in her big brown eyes. “Are you firing me?”

  “No,” I said. “But you can’t do anything like this ever again.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  “I’m giving you the rest of the week off. We’ll start again on Monday.”

  She nodded, mollified by my words. “Okay. I am so sorry, Blaire. You know that I’d never do anything to hurt you. I only want what’s best for you and the company.”

  “I know.”

  She gulped and then slunk out of the room. I braced an arm against the door when she was gone. Because this wasn’t over. I still had to face Campbell.

  And the worst part of all of it was that Honey was right. As mad as I was with her for how she had gone about it, Campbell was exponentially more famous than me. We knew each other. As far as Honey knew, we were even friends on speaking terms. A guy who could joke about asking me out. From her perspective, why wouldn’t I film a video with him?

  If only it were that simple.

  I tucked my hair behind my ears, mussed my bangs, and then headed back toward the door. Campbell still hadn’t come inside. He was leaning back against the doorframe, staring down at his phone.

  “Hey,” I said. “Sorry about that.”

  “Did you fire your minion?”

  “I didn’t. This is the first time anything like this has happened. So, I’m giving her another chance. You have no idea how hard it is to find good employees.”

  “I thought the emails were suspicious,” he admitted. “I guess I just wanted to believe that you were that comfortable with seeing me again.”

  “God, what was in those emails, Campbell?”

  He met my gaze evenly. “Nothing. I just asked if we could meet up, and then you—she—agreed. I never mentioned anything about the past, and clearly, she doesn’t know that we know each other.”

  “Well, that’s a relief at least.”

  “Yeah,” he said, his gaze darting away again. “I guess I should go then. I can’t imagine you actually wanted to see me today.”

  I hadn’t. And…I had.

  I absolutely would have told him no if I were the one who had gotten the email from him. But now that he was here, I just couldn’t send him away either.

  “Might as well come inside.”

  “Really?” he asked, straightening in surprise.

  “Yeah.” I opened the door wider. “You said you wanted to talk to me?”

  “I do.”

  “Then, come on in.”

  Campbell glanced at me uncertainly one more time before stepping across the threshold and into the house. I closed the door behind him, releasing a quick breath. I was doing this. I was inviting Campbell into my house when no one else was home. It felt like a recipe for disaster or just a remembrance of that girl who had been wild enough to sneak him into her bedroom every night. Carefree enough to fall in love.

  “Sorry about Honey again,” I said, suddenly self-conscious with him so close.

  He propped his guitar against the dining room table. Then, he shucked off his signature leather jacket, draping it across the back of one of the wooden chairs. I couldn’t imagine how he could have been comfortable in this heat in that jacket. I knew it was what he always wore, but still.

  “I probably should have guessed. I don’t usually check my email either unless my publicist tells me to,” he admitted.

  “What a life.”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged.

  “Why were you wearing that?” I blurted. “You do know it’s a hundred degrees outside.”

  “A hundred and two actually.”

  “That’s outrageous. You don’t have to live your LA life here in Lubbock. No one cares if you survive by wearing shorts.”

  His eyes finally found mine. “You—well, I guess, Honey—asked me to wear it.”

  “She did?” I asked, horrified. “Oh God.” I sank into an oversize armchair. “I am so sorry.”

  He brushed it off. “It’s no big deal. I wear it onstage until I’m sweating through it most shows anyway. I’ve kind of gotten used to it.”

  “Still.” I shook my head. “Why did you even agree to any of this? I thought you weren’t even on social media.”

  “I’m not. Not really. I have it. It’s mostly managed by someone else, but I find it difficult to navigate and be creative.”

  “No kidding.” I exhaled harshly. “So…why would you film this challenge?”

  He stared fixedly at the floor. As if he couldn’t even meet my eyes. Couldn’t get the words past his teeth.

  I crossed my arms across my stomach, bracing myself for his answer. It couldn’t be good. There had to be a catch. Something that was going to hurt me. I didn’t know what, but he was silent for a reason.

  Then, finally, with a practiced slowness, he looked at me. “For you, Blaire? Anything.”

  I swallowed around those words. Dear God, those words. If only they were true. If only he had been willing to give me everything. We wouldn’t be sitting here in this hollow moment, aching for something we could never have.

  I jumped to my feet. “Fine. Then, let’s do it.”

  “What?” He stumbled over the word. “Do what?”

  “Record the video.”

  Confusion clouded his features. “I thought you didn’t want to.”

  “Well, I don’t, but Honey, as wrong as her actions were, was right. The followers are clamoring for me to do this challenge. I’ve been avoiding it—for obvious reasons. But you’re here.” And he was here. So close to me. Closer than he had been in years. I had no idea what he wanted to talk to me about, but I just knew that I didn’t want him to go. “So, we might as well.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  And that was all the answer I needed.

  10

  Blaire

  The challenge itself was simple. Especially how Nate had started it out as a glow-up to “show the real you.” But that wasn’t my message, and I knew that it wasn’t what Campbell had meant when he wrote the song. He’d meant that I wasn’t the girl I showed everyone else. I was his girl. He had seen the truth.

  Which meant that in the video…Campbell had to see the real me again.

  I set up the camera with him out of sight. Just me in the first frame, staring off into the distance. I pulled my hair up into a high pony and brushed my bangs out of my face. Campbell strummed the tune of his most popular hit, and I lip-synced the words to the camera. Coy and distant. The girl I’d been in high school.

  Then, I cut the camera. I didn’t even watch it to see if it needed a second take. I didn’t know how many times I could hear him sing that song. Let alone on an acoustic guitar with just his rich vocals a foot away from me. It ripped through every layer of the walls I’d put up around myself.

  No. One take was going to have to do.

  “I have to get changed for the second shot.”

  “All right,” he said, strumming a different tune. One that I’d never heard before. His eyes focused on the strings. “What should I do?”

  “You’re going to be in this one with your guitar, singing. Maybe put your leather jacket back on.”

  “And you?” he asked, meeting my eyes, still playing that strange melody.

  I liked it. It was catchy. Not like anything I’d heard from him before. I wondered what it was.

  “You’ll see.”

  I hurried into my bedroom and leaned back against the door. This was harder than I’d thought. Frankly, I hadn’t had much time to think about how it would affect me. I’d pay for this later.

  But I didn’t have time now.

  So, I pulled on my big-girl panties and got to work. I curled my hair into long, voluminous waves and worked my signature fringe bangs for all they were worth. My makeup wasn’t heavy, but it was still statement makeup. Smoky eyes, winged eyeliner, a cherry-red lip. I considered wearing a sexy outfit to complete the official glow-up, but that wasn’t what I was going for. Instead, I reached farther back in my closet and pulled out a long, flowy black skirt with a million pleats and an ash-gray crop top. I tugged on my Docs just to give it enough of an edge. It wasn’t sexy in the traditional sense. But it was me…and it matched Campbell.