Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24614 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
I'm not giving up. Not until she's mine.
Chapter Three
Evie
"The show is sold out."
"Wait. What?" I blink at my mom, sure I heard her wrong.
"You sold out, baby girl," she says, beaming at me through my phone screen. "I just got off the phone with Addison. She said the last tickets sold overnight."
"Oh my gosh." I drop into a chair in my kitchen, my legs shaking. Actually, I think my whole body is shaking. "But…that's like…"
"Twenty-five thousand people," my mom says, still smiling like she wants to climb through the phone and throw her arms around me. "You did it, baby girl."
I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry.
I kind of want to, though. My first stadium show in Los Angeles officially sold out.
Holy shit.
"Dad didn't buy all of them again, did he?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at her.
"He only did that once!" she says, laughing. "And it was your first show. He was excited."
"Excited?" I stare at her with wide eyes. "He paid Dax to go down to Broadway and stand on the street corner, giving them away, Mom! That's unhinged." It's also totally on brand for him. There's nothing he wouldn't do for us.
"Well, it worked, didn't it? It kept your brother out of your hair, and it got butts in seats for that show." She grins at me, her blue eyes gleaming, before setting the phone down on the counter, pointed straight up at the ceiling. "And look at you now. Your show is sold out, and he had nothing to do with it this time. You did this yourself, Evie."
I bite my bottom lip, fighting the urge to cry again. A year and a half ago, I was playing in dive bars, fighting like hell to be taken seriously, not as Kasen Alexander's nepo baby, but as an actual artist. Now, twenty-five thousand people are coming to see me. It doesn't seem possible.
"I wish you guys could be here," I whisper.
Mom immediately picks up the phone again, her expression soft. "I wish we could, too, baby girl. But your dad isn't allowed to travel yet."
"I know. I'll just miss you." Dad just had a bad case of appendicitis. If he had to stay in the hospital much longer, his doctor was going to murder him. They probably let him leave before he should have because he's a horrible patient.
"We miss you, too, baby girl. But Everly is there, and you're going to do amazing."
"How's he doing?" I ask, drawing circles on the kitchen table with my finger.
"He's fine," Mom promises, rolling her eyes. "The man refuses to stay in bed unless I sit on him."
"Yeah, that's probably the point," I say, giggling.
She snorts but doesn't deny it. She can't hide her smile, though. My parents are crazy about each other and always have been.
Things weren't always easy for them, especially after he left her the night before they were supposed to get married when they were kids, but he's spent his whole life making it up to her. And she's spent hers telling him that she forgave him a long time ago. That never stops him, though.
When I fall in love, I want it to be with a man who loves me the way he loves my mom. He never tries to hide the fact that she's the most important thing in his world, or that he's wild about her. If I can't have that, I don't want it.
My mind drifts to Kingston before I groan out loud, burying my face in my hands. I swear, the man keeps popping into my head for no reason! All night last night and all morning, he's just invited himself into my brain.
It's annoying as hell. I do not like him.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," I quickly lie, yanking my hands away.
"Uh-huh." Mom grins at me. "And is nothing named Kingston Monroe?"
"Everly told you?" I groan.
"Oh, baby girl," Mom says through laughter. "Your sister didn't have to spill the beans. It's been all over the gossip sites."
"Great. Has Dad seen anything about it?"
"He has. He's staying out of it."
I blink at her, shocked and suspicious. My dad doesn't stay out of anything, ever. Literally, ever. If there's trouble, he's probably causing it. "What? Why?"
"He trusts you."
"What does that mean?" I ask, even more suspicious now. Kingston literally fell at my feet in front of the world and then told the media the lamest story ever—that he was trying to speak to Hughes, the man who was standing beside me.
No one bought it. Literally no one.
I don't know why I stepped over him like I did. It only added fuel to the fire he started. My Instagram comments are a shitshow right now. Everyone wants to know if we're dating.
"It means you've built an incredible life and career for yourself," Mom says, her tone gentle. "When you meet the man for you, you'll build something beautiful for yourself there, too. You don't need your dad telling you what to do. You're smart enough to figure it out on your own."