The Treble With Men (Scorned Women's Society #2) - Piper Sheldon Page 0,57

yeah, it’s been a while for me too.”

“It has?”

He gave me a look.

“Sorry. Don’t answer that. Boundaries,” I mumbled.

“I knew this was a bad idea,” he said softly, almost to himself.

“The storm …” It had shaken me more than I had wanted to admit, but the second we’d climbed into bed together I’d fallen right asleep. I’d slept better than I had in ages. It was like our bodies had just made a decision in our sleep for us.

“I understand. I really am sorry. Did I—” he cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. You have nothing to be sorry about. You didn’t do anything. I mean I was the one on top of you. I was the one—”

“It’s okay.” He took another deep breath. He lifted the pillow to look and quickly put it back.

“You knew it was a bad idea?” I felt shame with that. A different sort of shame. I was the one who walked in on him in the shower. I was the one that was basically dry humping him in his sleep. I kept crossing the lines while he worked to keep them in place. How long until he’d want to stop working with me all together?

“You’re a beautiful woman. I’m a man. I’m alone a lot—not that it excuses it. Our bodies must have just—” He was rambling, talking almost to himself.

“Totally. It was a subconscious thing.” I situated the blankets to cover my smile.

For all of my talk about not caring for being called beautiful by men, when Devlin said it—as though it was just an obvious fact, as though he’d always felt that way, and it was just something he was used to—well, I was ashamed to say that it lit me up. I felt sexy. I hadn’t felt sexy in a very long time. I’d kept myself muted. He only knew me as a muted shade of brown, and yet he thought I was beautiful.

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“It’s only 5:30.”

“I usually get up at this time. I won’t be going back to sleep,” I said.

“Me neither.”

Our gazes clashed again, and I smiled. He smiled back, but it was tensed. “This could have been very awkward.”

“Thank goodness it’s not awkward at all. We can just get up and have coffee. We should check the roads. No need to ever talk about it again.” I shrugged. I played it off so he wouldn’t get freaked out. I’d pushed too far.

“Good idea,” he said.

“Right. So, I’ll just go make some coffee?” I asked.

“Sounds good. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

“Okay.” I blew out air from pursed lips.

The arousal had worn off and I was left with a wired restlessness. I rolled my head side to side and stretched my arms over my head.

He cleared his throat. “I’m just going to go take a quick shower.”

“Okay.” I nodded with an expectant look.

He shifted before scratching at his beard. He subtly tilted his head toward the pillow in his lap.

“Oh. Right. Well, I’ll just go get that coffee going.”

A smile crept on my face as I made my way down the hall.

Chapter 22

Practice is not an option.

KIM

Weeks passed. Spring melted into summer.

Devlin and I worked every available weekend. My courage increased. I spoke up more and more. He always listened to my suggestions. Our relationship matured. My attraction to him was ever present, yes, but I was beginning to long for more. My fingers itched to check in with him and ask about his day. We texted almost daily now. At first, it was about music or our schedule, but now we were just talking. Sharing stupid memes about platypuses and music jokes. I learned more about life with an older brother and a set of wonderfully typical parents. He knew my schedule and accommodated it. He snuck me snacks when my blood sugar dropped. I would give him coffee and a solid hour to fully wake.

We still didn’t talk about the mask. We never referenced a time after the Smokey Mountain Suite would be complete.

I wanted so much more.

Now, June was passing in a blur. As I walked into the SOOK rehearsal on what I thought was just another Monday, I quickly realized something was up. Nobody was set up, and in fact, most of the musicians stood around whispering. Typically, strings would be plucked and tuned, horns would be tested, and drums thrummed.

I spotted Erin and made my way over. “What’s going on?” I asked.

Erin widened

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