Campbell’s face went from irritated to dismayed to a forced rockstar smile. “Wow,” he said, blinking into the lights. His eyes went to Blaire, who was smiling brightly. “You did this?”

  “We all did.”

  Then, he kissed her, and we all cheered a second time.

  Music came on, and everyone moved onto the dance floor. Campbell walked around the room, thanking everyone for coming. When he finally landed on me and Weston, his smile dropped.

  He punched West in the shoulder. “You motherfucker.”

  West laughed and rubbed his shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

  “Hey, ass, it was Hollin’s idea,” I said with a grin.

  “What are you accusing me of?” Hollin asked. He pulled our brother into a hug.

  Campbell rolled his eyes. “You decided on this party?”

  “Me and Nora did. Aren’t you so excited?”

  Campbell snorted. “Y’all are all assholes.”

  “You know he’s in a mood when he pulls out the y’alls,” Blaire said.

  Weston punched him back. “You should let us do this shit more often. Why are you so against surprises anyway?”

  “I’m not,” Campbell lied.

  Hollin and I shared a private smile. Campbell glared at both of us.

  “Don’t fucking say it,” Campbell warned.

  Hollin grinned devilishly. “What? About the clown at your twelfth birthday that scared you shitless?”

  “The time you ran out of the house, screaming, when it jumped out at you?” I added.

  Campbell looked to the ceiling. “Thank God I have siblings.”

  Weston cracked up. “Oh man, I need this story in its entirety.”

  “Not a chance,” Campbell growled.

  Blaire shook her head. “Tell me about it later.”

  “About what?” Julian asked, stepping up to our party. His brother, Jordan, at his side.

  “Something about a clown?” Jordan asked.

  I was lucky to have my cousins in Lubbock. Jordan and Julian were related to West on his dad’s side, but their mom was my aunt. So even though we were both related to them, we weren’t related to each other. And since Jordan and Julian had lived in Vancouver through my childhood, I’d never gotten to know them. But with them here and Jordan now engaged to Annie and Julian living with Jennifer, I knew they were here to stay. My family had shattered after my mom died, but it was starting to stitch back together after all these years.

  “Fuck both of you,” Campbell said to me and Hollin.

  We just hit knuckles. Ganging up on Campbell was half the fun.

  The rest of the party dispersed as Campbell turned his attention to our cousins. I was left alone with West, and I knew this was the moment I should take.

  Our eyes met. “Hey.”

  “The party turned out great.”

  “Thanks,” I said, on steady ground when talking about work. Though I knew I couldn’t let last night stand.

  West had been gone this morning when I woke up. He’d left Gatorade, Tylenol, and a note that said, Hope you feel okay. Heading to the gym. —West. It was thoughtful, but I was sure it was also a way to avoid the awkwardness to follow.

  “Sorry about last night,” I forced out.

  “Sorry?”

  “You know, about…getting super drunk and everything that happened afterward.”

  He laughed and ran a hand back through his floppy, dark hair. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Nor.”

  “You sure? I remember a very embarrassing almost kiss, where I then started laughing at how drunk I was.”

  He grinned. Not at all miffed by that. “You remember that, huh?”

  My cheeks heated. “I do.”

  “Look, it was good to see you cut loose. You should do it more often.”

  “It was nice to not think for once. Though I felt pretty dumb when I woke up.”

  “I liked seeing you that way,” he admitted.

  Something heated in my core at those words. He’d liked the loose, flirty, almost-sexy Nora Abbey. I’d liked her, too. I wished I could find her right now.

  “Maybe we should do it again. I’ll be in the studio all week with Campbell—because he’s a workaholic—but maybe next weekend?”

  “Sure.” I bit my lip. “I’d like that.”

  “Good. It’s a date.”

  I swallowed at that word. Date. A date with Weston Wright. Even if it definitely, absolutely, for sure was not a real date with Weston Wright.

  9

  Nora

  True to his word, I barely saw Weston the rest of the week. He would come back in the evenings, guzzle water, and promptly pass out. He’d mentioned something about what he and Campbell were working on in the studio, but it was technical, and all these years with my rockstar brother hadn’t equipped me to understand. I’d thought the album was done. But there was a lot more that went into it when perfectionists like Campbell and West were working on it.

  “Hey,” West said as he strode into the house, still holding his guitar.

  “Hey, you got back early.”

  “Blaire got irritated that Campbell’s home and spending every waking second on a new song even though the album is supposed to be done.”

  I laughed. “That sounds right. Is the song good?”

  “Yeah. Honestly, it’s absolutely necessary. We just didn’t know we were missing it.”

  He tipped his head to the side, and I followed him into the bedroom between our two rooms. It had been converted into a music room with guitars, keyboards, an upright piano, and every other type of instrument I could name. Weston played all of them, including harmonica, saxophone, and trumpet. I had no idea how he could play them all.

  He set the guitar into its position and sank down at the keyboard. I knew the piano would always be his favorite. He started to sketch out a melody. “What do you think of this?”

  “Is this the new song?”

  He shook his head. “Just something I’ve been working on.”

  “I like it.” It was soft and lilting, strung together on a series of high notes. It drifted and spiraled and came back to the same tune again. “It’s beautiful. Doesn’t sound like Cosmere though.”

  “No. Not for them.” His fingers continued as he stared up at me. My stomach flipped at that look. He was off in his own music dream world, and somehow, I’d been pulled into it like a tornado. My face heated at the connection. Then, abruptly, he stopped and looked away. “Something else.”

  “Well, it’s good.”

  “It was always my dream to play keys. I wanted to headline on them but realized quickly that it was impossible. Getting to do this with Campbell,” he said wistfully as he shook his head, “it’s a dream come true. Feels like everything is in my grasp finally.”

  “You’ve earned it.”

  He shrugged. “Just happy to be along for the ride.” He looked me up and down. “Are we still on for tonight?”

  I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m up for it if you are.”

  “You bet, Snickers.”

  My stomach fluttered at the ridiculous nickname. “I have no idea what to wear.”

  “I can help.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Try on the options for me.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. We’d decided on a cocktail bar, and I felt clueless.

  “Last time was to get your feet wet. Practicing on frat bros and such in that bar was easy enough, but they’re not the kind of guy you want to date. You can use the same moves on people you would actually go on a date with.”

  “Right. That makes sense.” I stared down at my sweats and laughed. “Probably not this then.”

  “Probably not.”

  “Give me a minute,” I told him.

  I headed into my room. I had plenty of nice dresses. I wore a lot of them when I was working weddings, but I wanted something with a wow factor. Something that would make me get noticed. I’d spent so long in the shadows that I didn’t know how to look in my closet and pick something to get attention.

  I grabbed a short black dress from the back and slid it over my curvy frame. I had more shoes than anything in the closet, and I settled on a pair of booties.

  I strutted back down the hallway and found Weston still at the piano, notating the song onto sheet music. I cleared my throat. He turned around and went perfectly still. His eyes crawled down the length of my dress—from my exposed cleavage to my bare thighs.

  He nearly choked. “You look great, but maybe something with color.”

  My body heated from the way he’d seemed barely able to get the words out. So, maybe Weston Wright wasn’t completely impervious to me.

  With that in mind, I returned to my closet and slid on a royal-blue dress that I’d worn out with Tamara once and promptly never wore again because it was way too short and tight. I had a feeling he was going to veto this one. I knew I looked hot and was interested to see if I got the same reaction.

  “Well?” I asked, doing a small twirl for him.

  His jaw clenched, and then he slowly released a breath. But I didn’t miss the way he took me in from top to bottom, as if he were about to devour me whole.

  “Not that one,” he managed to get out.

  A small smile of triumph rippled through me. Well, well, well, maybe I wasn’t just his best friend’s little sister.

  I returned to my room, reached farther back in my closet, and grabbed a red dress with a flowy skirt that I’d never worn. I always felt like it was a little too showy for weddings, which was where I wore most of my cocktail attire, but it felt just right for this. I grabbed black heels with little buckles across the top that made my short legs look so much longer.

  “That one,” Weston said as soon as I entered the music room. He coughed into his hand and then nodded. “Yep, that one.”

  I did a twirl for him, the layers of the skirt floating upward as I did so. “You like it?”

  “I love it,” he muttered.

  “All right. I’ll do my hair and makeup, and then we can go.”

  An hour later, I slid the dress back onto my body and came out to find Weston already waiting for me. My jaw dropped, and I hastily recovered.

  Weston Wright was dressed up in a white button-up, black dress slacks, a thick black belt, and dress shoes. I could hardly believe it. He was the perpetual ripped jeans and T-shirt guy. He drove a Subaru with over a hundred thousand miles. He let his hair grow out until it bothered him before a haircut. I hadn’t expected him to even own a suit. Let alone be able to fill it like a fucking god.

  “Wow, West,” I muttered.

  He grinned. “Figured if you were dressing nice, I should make an effort.”

  “This is a little more than an effort.”

  He held out the tie that he hadn’t yet tied around his neck. The white button-up was undone to the second button, and personally, I was a fan. “Still not used to this thing though.”

  I slid the material between my fingers, dragging it out of his hand. “Eh, you don’t need it.”

  “Well, that’s decided.”

  His eyes traveled to where I now held his tie. Part of me wanted to say fuck the pretense and kiss him. He might find me attractive, but that didn’t mean he wanted to kiss me. It didn’t mean he wanted to complicate our roommate situation or betray Campbell. He felt a great obligation to my older brother, and I doubted he’d do anything to jeopardize their friendship.

  So, I tossed the tie to the couch and smiled brilliantly up at him. This was my flirt coach. That was all it was. “Round two?”

  He nodded. “Let’s go.”

  We got into the Subaru and headed away from the house. When he veered away from downtown, I looked at him in confusion. “Where exactly are we going?”

  “You don’t actually want to date frat bros. So, we’re going to need higher-end clientele.”

  “And where would that be in Lubbock, Texas?” I asked skeptically. I’d dressed the part, but I hadn’t considered that we had nice enough bars for me to practice in.

  “Manhattan 9.”

  “I haven’t heard of it. How do you know about it?”

  “Well, it’s a speakeasy, and they have live music on the weekends. I played piano there a few times when I first moved into town.”

  “What? You didn’t tell me that.”

  He shrugged. “It was sort of an escape. It was hard when I first moved here and Whitt and Harley were still in Seattle.”

  I nodded in understanding. “So, I’m trying to get a guy to ask for my number again?”

  “No, we’re past that. You were a natural, as I’d suspected.”

  I laughed. “I was far from a natural.”

  “Either way, you excelled. Did that guy call you after all?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Exactly. So, tonight, you’re going to try to meet a guy you can see yourself agreeing to go on a date with when he inevitably calls you. More than a drink or a phone number. If you hit it off, then you’ll spend the night hanging with him at the bar.”

  I gulped. “That’s a big ask.”

  “You’ll do fine.”

  “What if he wants to go back to his place?”

  Weston stiffened. “Look, only you can answer that question. If you want to go home with him, that’s on you.” His eyes cut to mine. “Do you have a condom?”

  I sat frozen in place at that question. “What? No! That’s…that’s way too soon.”

  He released a breath. “Well, that’s your answer then.”

  “I mean, Jesus, I’ve only ever been with one guy.”

  Weston arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “I mean, yeah. I’ve only dated one, only slept with one. That’s the whole point of all of this.”

  “Those things don’t always mean the same thing.”

  My cheeks colored. “They do for me.”

  “Nothing to be ashamed of,” he insisted. “Only do what you’re comfortable with tonight. Just try to have fun and don’t think too much.”

  Easier said than done.

  10

  Weston

  Nora struck out the first hour, but when she was finishing up her first drink, she started talking to a new guy. I knew it was the one she was going to practice on based solely on the fact that her shoulders were no longer up to her ears. She almost looked relaxed.

  I clenched my jaw.

  This was what I’d wanted. This was what we’d planned for. This was the entire reason we were here.

  I knew the owner of the speakeasy. I knew the bartenders were trained to spot anyone suspicious. They looked out for girls who were there and were fastidious about safety. That was why I’d thought it would be an okay place to start. The kind of guy who would come here was leagues different than the idiots we’d first started with.

  But somehow, now that she was talking to a guy in a suit and tie with his blond hair spiked in the front and a million-dollar smile, it all became real. And I didn’t like it.

  “You look like you could use this,” the bartender said, sliding a shot toward me.

  “Thanks, Layla,” I said with a nod.

  Layla had been working here for a few years. We’d become friends in those first few months when I came to the city and played the keys in here to pass the time.

  “So, who’s the girl?”

  “My roommate.”

  She grimaced. “Rough, man.”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged. “Do you know the guy she’s talking to?”

  “Bryan something,” she said with a nod. “He’s in here a lot. Tips well.”

  The important thing.

  “You going to watch her talk to other guys all night?”

  I was. That was the plan at least.

  I hadn’t considered how frustrated I’d get by the process. This was what I should be doing. It was the right thing to do. I was helping her get over August. Bringing her out of her shell. And it wasn’t like we could do anything. I still couldn’t stop the beat racketing through my chest.

  “I guess I am,” I told her.

  “Well, drinks on me then. You’re a good guy, West.”

  A good guy. That was who I’d always been. Until those six months in LA when I’d let loose with the band. I could spin Nora Abbey so hard if I wanted to. I could break all the rules and have her in my arms by the end of the night. But I wasn’t that guy. I didn’t want to be that guy.

  Even if the way she’d looked, twirling around in her little dresses, made me think all sorts of filthy thoughts about her. Had she known she was driving me insane with every spin? Fuck.

  Nora flashed the guy another smile. They’d been talking for a half hour. Jesus Christ, I didn’t want to sit here and watch this.

  I messed around on my phone, texting with Whitt for a while until, suddenly, Nora was standing before me again.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. It must have fallen apart somewhere. We could work on it a different night.

  “Hey,” she said buoyantly.

  “How’s it going?”

  She grinned. “Good. You were right. This is easier than I thought.”

  “Oh really?” My eyes drifted back to where Bryan something was seated with a group of his friends. He was looking right at us. He didn’t seem particularly pleased that she was now talking to me.

  “Yeah. I already knew Bryan. He and I had a class together at Tech my senior year. I’d completely forgotten about it until he mentioned it.”

  Her senior year. Which meant she’d been with August. Made sense that she hadn’t noticed the guy, but that he’d noticed her.

  “Plus, you see the redhead? That’s Jana. She used to run tours at Wright Vineyard for a while.”

  With Tamara was implied but not said.

  “Well, that’s good.”

  “And they—well, Bryan, asked if I wanted to hop to Funky Door with them for cocktails.” She did a little jig, like she’d won the lottery. “That’s good, right?”

  “It is. You still planning to come home tonight?”

  Her eyes flicked back to Bryan’s. He smiled brilliantly at her.