The Way Back Home (23 page)

“T
HIS PLACE IS
packed,” Adam shouts over the music at an after party later.

“Right?” I say. “But packed with megastars. It's like a weird dance club where everybody you pass is a little more famous than the last person you saw.”

“Exactly!”

Every time Adam and I end up in a conversation with a huge celeb, we are downright starstruck. We completely gush over their music, but the cool thing is that it's not long before we and the celebrity find common ground and are just talking shop, like we've been friends forever. This event is like a fantastic otherworld, where every person here is in awe of some other person here. Rather than any one of us being the star of the room, we're all regular people having a good time. My brothers and I didn't hit up any after parties last year, so it's been fun to experience something completely new with Adam.

But it's been a long night. “How long do these things last?” he asks, trying to suppress a yawn.

I shrug. “Is it lame to leave?”

“Lame to call it a night at two in the morning?” he asks. “Not at all. And now we have His and Hers Grammys to snuggle.”

I elbow him in the rib cage. “Lay off, Dean. You'll win your own soon enough.”

“Hello, stranger,” a low voice says behind me.

“Jason!” I say when I turn around. We do the standard Hollywood double-cheek air kisses, and even though nothing even close to romantic ever happened between us, I am a little nervous when I turn to introduce him to Adam. “You have got to meet my boyfriend, Adam Dean.”

Adam doesn't look tired anymore. In fact, he looks quite alert as he reaches out a hand and shakes with the guy who inadvertently caused us trouble during our first go 'round.

“Hey, from ‘Make Her Mine,' right?” Jason asks enthusiastically. “That song is terrific. I always blast it in the car. It's country but rock, and it's got a lot of heart, man. Jason Samuels is a big fan.”

Adam's eyebrows nearly hit his hairline he's so shocked. “Thank you. I had a pretty tempting muse,” he says, nudging me with his shoulder.

“Bird, did you see Devyn? I'm sure she'd love to catch up,” Jason asks, the most innocently clueless man on earth. “Or Kayelee? They're running around here somewhere.”

“I haven't seen them,” I say, trying to be sweet. “I've been on tour and haven't spent much time at our LA place lately. I did see Bria and Bridget on the—”

“Adam!”

I spin around, knowing that voice anywhere, and am dumbstruck when the devil herself comes running up to him with her cleavage about to spill out of her very low-cut dress.

“Hey, Kayelee,” he says as she throws her arms around his neck and rubs her boobs all over his chest. He clumsily pats her back and tries to pull away, glancing at me like a kid in trouble with his mom.

“How are you?” Kayelee squeals as she finally pulls away from
my boyfriend
and completely ignores both Jason and me.

“Good, good,” Adam says awkwardly.

“Are you loving this after party?” she shouts, sliding one hand over his chest and tipping back a mixed drink with the other. The music is loud, but she's clearly not aware of how much louder she is… or of the average personal space bubble.

“Yeah.” He nods, looking around. “It's a lot of fun.”

“So, Bird, what've you been up to since I saw you last?” Jason asks, realizing as I do that we are being completely iced out of their conversation.

“Still on tour,” I say, turning my back to Kayelee. “My label added more dates, so it looks like I'll be playing in Europe in May.”

“That's spectacular,” he says. “You have to text me for suggestions. Jason Samuels knows Europe.”

“Not as well as Colton Holley knows Europe,” Colton Holley himself says, slinging an arm around Jason's shoulders. I look around, wondering how and why all these people just keep popping up out of nowhere. It's like I'm in some kind of weird horror movie. “Bird Barrett, you vixen. It's always a pleasure to see you,” Colton says, his eyes shining as he grabs my hand and brings it to his lips. “You are as ravishing as ever.”

“Hello, Colton,” I say politely. I glance over my shoulder at Adam, who looks miserable as Kayelee blabs on and on about the direction of her next album, repeating herself a lot and having trouble keeping her balance. I don't even think she realizes that she's backed into me twice, because knowing Kayelee, she would revel in it much more if it were on purpose.

“Bird and I once had a very romantic evening in Las Vegas,” Colton tells Jason now, his voice suggestive and his eyes full of mischief.

Jason looks over at me, astonished. “Really?”

“Unfortunately,” Colton continues with a pout, “with Vegas being the cruel wench that she is, I did not get lucky.”

“Oh, ‘unfortunately'?” Kayelee repeats, spinning around and staring daggers into Colton's face as she stumbles between us. “Well, ‘unfortunately,' I just spilled my drink.” And taking everyone off guard, she slings her cocktail right into his face, splashing some on Jason and causing everyone nearby to gasp and stare.

“Bird, that's our cue,” Adam says softly, tugging at my elbow. I don't even say good-bye to Jason. Instead, I let Adam lead me right out of that drama and we don't look back.

“That was insane!” I say once we've put some good distance between us.

“She's completely blitzed,” Adam says, shaking his head. “She's got so much talent, but she's such a mess.”

“You still ready to go?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Definitely.”

We weave a path through the crowd toward the front entrance, where people are bottlenecking at the doors. I'd rather wait out the crowd than push my way through, so we hang back to the side in a quiet hallway and sit on a little ledge. “Was tonight what you expected?” I ask Adam as I lay my head on his shoulder.

“It was better,” he says, kissing my head. “You won
two
Grammys, Bird. How sick is that? How amazing is that?”

I smile. “I'm not the same girl you met a few years ago, that's for sure.”

“All that's changed is the wrapping,” Adam says. “Your hair is redder, you wear nicer clothes, you go to Cinderella balls with a studly Prince Charming…”

I laugh.

“But none of that has anything to do with who you are,” he says. He takes my hand in one of his and rubs circles on the back with his thumb. I feel him tilt his face down, and then his lips are at my hairline. “You're still the girl I fell in love with at the Station Inn,” he murmurs. “And again at the Pancake Pantry. And again last Christmas Eve. And yet again during the food fight in Chicago.”

I blink, feeling like the wind has been knocked out of me as I look up at him.

“You are still the most amazing person I've ever known. Money or fame or press or bad days? None of that is going to change the way I feel about you.”

He stares at me, vulnerable, those eyes with brown-and-green-and-yellow flecks and lashes that go on for days searching mine. He stares at me and it's like I feel him looking at my bare soul, as if he knows my heart and already feels the sensation that courses through my veins, bringing my love for him to every fiber of my being.

“I love you, too, Adam.” I say it with strength, with power, so he'll know it's not just a return-the-volley reply, but a truth that is as much a part of Bird Barrett as my blue eyes and beating heart.

When he kisses me, I feel my body go to jelly. Movie stars and rock stars buzz around us, but we are swept up in another realm, a different moment in time where I didn't win two Grammys and he isn't about to release his first album. We aren't two celebrities, we're just two people in love.

Adam pulls away and looks at me with a full smile. “You know I'm going to write a song about this,” he says.

I feel my own smile rival his. “Not if I write one first.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Kayelee sneers behind us. Reluctantly, I turn around. Her makeup is smeared, it looks like she's been crying, and she has ripped her couture gown. “Get a room. And not this room. Like a real—”

Kayelee pauses, looking like she might vomit.

“Are you all right?” I ask. “You look like you might be sick.”

“
You
make me sick!” she shouts.

A few people in the hallway turn around, and the last thing I want is an awards show after party video of us going viral, so I stand up and softly suggest, “Hey, Kayelee, let's go into the bathroom. There's one down this way with no lines. Maybe splash some cool water on your face?”

“How 'bout instead you go straight to—”

And then she slaps her hand over her mouth. She heaves but doesn't puke.

“Come on,” I say, getting behind her and pushing her toward the bathroom. Adam grabs one of her arms and, amazingly, she doesn't fight us. “Okay, in here,” I say as she dives into the door at the end of the hall. It's not long before we hear her losing it and a partygoer flees the restroom with a look of disgust on her face. “Now this is a party!” I joke with Adam. “To think we almost left.”

“Whoa,” he says, looking a little pale. He has to step away when he hears Kayelee gagging again.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just—weak stomach.”

I look down the corridor and see a few people snickering, the gossip mill turning already, but nobody comes to Kayelee's aid. “Where are her people?” I ask. Adam shrugs.

I start to pace, not knowing what to do. I don't owe Kayelee Ford anything, but I don't think it's right to leave her in there by herself, either.

“Are
you
okay?” Adam asks, seeing the inner turmoil all over my face.

I pick at an already chipped nail and think it through. “I
am
okay because I have you. And Stella and my family and Dan, Troy, and Anita—and thank God for Bonnie. I have a lot of people, Adam. But Kayelee? I don't think she has anybody. Not really.”

“Yeah.”

I walk to the end of the hallway and scan the crowd, hoping to catch sight of Randall or Colton or Devyn or
somebody
. “Who'd she even come with?” I ask Adam as I walk back toward the bathrooms.

He shrugs again.

I sigh mightily, knowing what I have to do. “I'm going to check on her.”

Adam's eyebrows nearly jump off his face. “Really?”

I nod and walk toward the bathroom, but before I can open the door Adam is at my side. “See? Different on the outside, but the same sweet Bird on the inside.”

I smile. “All right, Romeo. Just go find somebody that'll take her home.”

“Kayelee?”

I push open the handicapped stall and see my arch nemesis, Kayelee Ford, passed out in her own puke on a public restroom floor. I'm pretty sure I need to establish she's breathing and wake her up, but I'm also pretty sure I don't want her to ruin my cocktail dress. It's Valentino, and it's Valentine's weekend, and of the three gowns I've worn tonight, it's the only one I don't have to give back. This is not how I imagined my night at the Grammys.

“Ugh,” she groans.

Good. She's alive.

I step into the stall with her, and the stench is so disgusting that I worry I might get sick, too. I hold my breath and flush the vomit down, then I wipe the seat with toilet paper and flush that as well. I walk over to the sink to get some paper towels and catch my reflection in the mirror. I pause for a moment.

“Okay, Bird,” I say, giving myself a pep talk. “This is your moment. You've made some big mistakes yourself, right? You wanted people to forgive you, right? So practice what you preach. Do it. Now or never. Let's go.”

I grab a bunch of paper towels and run water over them, then head back to the situation at hand. “Kayelee?” I say softly, wiping her cheek and chin. I formulate a plan as I clean her up. “Okay, you know what? First, let's take off these Jimmy Choos. I couldn't even walk in these sober. And we have to clean off your dress, okay? It's disgusting. Kayelee? Can you hear me?”