waist, his body moving with mine. When I sang along with Mac Miller, Devon’s eyebrows shot up. “You know this song?”
“I do. He’s one of my favorites.” It struck me as a huge coincidence that Devon had chosen this particular album to play for me out of the hundreds he had in his collection.
He slowly shook his head. “Where the hell did you come from, Lady?”
“Sunnyville, California.” I circled my arms around his neck. “We have similar taste in music.”
“Yep. We both hated my last couple albums.”
“Hate would be strong. Missed your old sound is more like it.”
His hands slid to cup my bottom. “I like how you tell me the truth, Kat. I’ve got a lot of people around me who tell me what I want to hear or what they think will make them the most money. Not too much truth in there.”
We were barely moving now. Just rocking back and forth, holding one another and talking. It was pretty perfect.
“You can always call me up. I’ll be your truth-teller,” I said.
“Yeah?” He nipped at my bottom lip. “I might need a lot of truth.”
“Are you saying you’re going to be calling me a lot when you leave?” An unexpected thrill swirled in my belly at the idea.
“I might. Are you saying you’d answer?” Again, that vulnerability showed in his face before he lowered it to nuzzle my neck.
“I might.” I hadn’t considered staying in touch beyond Devon’s stay in Sunnyville. In my mind, there was a clear end to all of this, and that would be that. It was easy to think of whatever was happening between us that way. But if he called? At this moment, I had trouble imagining myself not answering.
“Hard-ass,” he murmured, his lips brushing my skin.
“You say the sweetest things.”
Laughing, he brought his face up and smacked his lips on my cheek. “That’s the gentleman in me.”
He twirled me until I was dizzy even though the song didn’t call for twirling. Then he gave me a tour of the rest of the house, and it went on forever and ever. Bedroom after bedroom, all stark white, clean to the point of sterile. It didn’t feel like Devon in here at all, but I only knew Sunnyville Devon. Was this the real him? If so, I’d take Sunnyville Devon in his rental cottage every day of the week.
He pushed open double doors at the end of a long hallway. His bedroom was nearly the size of my entire house. The walls were slate gray—a welcome break from all the white. The bed was fit for a king. The headboard was almost ceiling-high, made from intricately woven wood slats, and the bedding was plush and an even darker gray. The curtains over the floor-to-ceiling windows were gauzy, letting in floods of light. It was pretty, designed down to the very corners, but just as cold as the rest of the house.
“It’s nice,” I said.
Devon circled his arms around my waist, his chest against my back, and rested his chin on my shoulder. “You’re an atrocious liar.”
“There’s just not much of you here.”
“I’m not here a lot. When I’m not on the road, I spend most of my time in New York. This is a place to hang my hat when I’m on the west coast.”
I spun to face him. “Are you saying your New York place is more you?”
His eyes slid to the side. “No.” He huffed a humorless laugh. “No, not really. It’s a carbon copy of this house, but with less sunshine.”
My nose crinkled. “Once you get your album recorded, you should really make your homes more comfortable. Maybe you’ll want to stay for a while if they are.”
He shrugged. “So instead of sitting alone in a stark, sterile house, I’ll sit alone in a comfortable house? I’ll get right on that.”
“No one says you have to be alone.”
He lowered his forehead to mine. “Let’s not talk about that. Can we act like this is my life? Like you’re not counting the days until you’re rid of me?”
I pressed into him, trying my best to soak up some of his sadness. And that’s what it was. He’d become more and more melancholy since we’d landed, which I hated for him.
“The day you drive out of town will be one of my least favorite days, so yeah, let’s not think about that while we’re here. I’m here for a peek at the glamorous celebrity life—not the nitty-gritty. Give me white smiles and designer