Calvin tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“Am I closed off and snippy? Obnoxious, high maintenance. Do I give the impression that I don’t care about people?”
My friend gaped at me. “You’ve always had my back, Laure. You’ve never once let me down. You’re my hero. Of course, you care.”
“I care aboutyou, yes. But maybe I’m an ass to other people that I don’t know like I know you.”
“You’re not. You can act a little distant, true, but that’s understandable when everyone wants something from you all the damn time.”
I slumped against the sofa’s backrest.
“I don’t have any friends, Cal. There’s nobody but you. I don’t trust anyone, and nobody trusts me. And I think it’s my own fault.”
“Barclay is your friend, and Hunter, too.”
“They know me through you.”
“And Sam?”
“He works for me. And he’s fed up with me.”
“Sam likes you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have stuck around.”
Poor Sam. Did the guy have a private life at all? It was proof of what an ass I’d been to him that I didn’t even know if he was dating anyone.
“His last birthday, I had him order his own present,” I told Calvin.
“Because you were on tour, doing five concerts in three different countries every week.”
I let out a helpless laugh. “It was less than that, and stop defending me!”
“You’re too hard on yourself.” Calvin expertly adjusted his grip on the kid, holding him with one arm, and brought his cup of tea to his lips. Ray chewed on the plushie’s head, soaking it in spit. He was adorable, but eww. That poor plushie.
“I haven’t written a song in ages,” I said. “I can barely look at my guitar. I left it at the chalet.”
“That’s good. You need to…” Calvin gestured with his tea mug, frowning as he searched for words. “Cleanse your mind, replenish your energy, and recharge your creativity. It’ll come back once you’ve given that genius brain of yours a chance to rest.”
“But what if it doesn’t come back? What if I end up being a friendless, talentless has-been fit only as tabloid fodder?”
“Stop it, Laurel. That’s nonsense, and you know it.”
I paused at Calvin’s strict tone. “I’m throwing myself a real pity party, aren’t I?”
“Yes. What brought this on? You’ve had creative crises before, but what’s with the guilt?”
Damn it. I couldn’t tell Calvin it was Monty’s fault. And Jordy’s. Not that Jordy said much to me, but I could tell he agreed with Monty, even though he’d objected to the delivery.
Two random alphas told me I was being an ass, and instead of sending them to hell, I was having a meltdown.
Because I’d been acting like an ass for real.
I had everything. Money, this face, health, fame. Everyone wanted to be me. Luck and success had been smiling at me since I was seventeen years old, and I’d been spitting in their faces.
And now I was sitting here, feeling sorry for myself.
Infinitely patient, Calvin was waiting for my reply.
“Since I’ve been staying at Monty’s and Jordy’s, I’ve gotten to know them better. They live a simple life, you know? Monty has his business, but he doesn’t make a big deal out of it. They just work, run through the forests for fun, and they’re happy. Sure, Jordy has that mysterious dark side going on, and who knows what he got up to before he came to Beauville, but he’s doing great, isn’t he? You only have to see him at the pub, in his element, nodding to the beat, smiling at people like he’s genuinely glad to see them. He gets to be himself, and he likes it, you know what I mean? I swear, it’s like he makes love to thosebeers with his looong fingers. The patrons talk his head off like it’s therapy, but he’s chill. Doesn’t bother him at all.”
