“You’re almost asleep. Let’s put the drink on the table and kick off your shoes. I’m going to walk Annie out. You stay put.” Bristol pointed at Lizzy as though she were a child. Bristol grabbed Annie’s hand and made a whimpering sound. “I’m so sorry about this. As much as I want to kick her out, I know she needs me.”

Annie hugged Bristol. “I understand. Good luck with her.” She paused and held Bristol’s hands. “This will keep.” She placed a swift kiss on Bristol’s lips and walked out of the suite.

Bristol took three deep breaths before turning to her drunk friend, who was quickly fading on the couch. She was angry at the lack of privacy with Lizzy around. Another three deep breaths. It wasn’t her fault. Lizzy was being herself, and this was what she did. With her hands on her hips, she looked at Lizzy, who was now softly snoring and speaking gibberish. She sighed, pulled off Lizzy’s shoes, and covered her with a blanket. She put a glass of water on the coffee table and found a small trash can that fit between the couch and the table if Lizzy got sick in the middle of the night. She grabbed her phone.

I can’t even tell you how mad I am right now.

Annie responded immediately. Don’t worry. Take care of her. We can pick up later. Thank you for such a wonderful night. Get some sleep.

Bristol flopped down on her bed, cooled from Lizzy’s interruption, but still on fire. When was the last time she’d made out with anyone or even had sex? She stripped, slipped under the covers, and sulked until she fell into a fitful sleep.

Chapter Twenty-one

It had been three days since the party, and Annie and Bristol couldn’t find time to be alone. With the tour ending, Bristol’s every waking moment was spent giving interviews, meeting charities, even shooting a commercial. Annie couldn’t get close to her no matter how hard she tried. She didn’t want to seem desperate or, worse, not interested.

Sterling was blowing up her phone, trying to sign her. Dani, her lawyer, sent her two names of entertainment managers that she still had to call. She had gotten an email from Americana Records asking to sit down with her. Americana was a lot smaller than Top Shelf or Four Twelve, but they repped Seth Wylie and Prairie Girls, folk musicians Annie adored. Seth Wylie—with his dreamy curls and poetic lyrics—had inspired her to start writing music as a teenager. Her guitar case still had an “I Heart SW” sticker. She couldn’t believe she was on Americana’s radar.