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“How convenient.” I chew the inside of my cheek at his dry tone as his gaze glides around the rustic open kitchen and double living room layout. When he comes full circle and meets my stare, his shoulders drop. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that—”
I wave his apology off. “Are you tired?”
“Not really,” he says, taking in the wooden beamed ceilings.
I nod toward the wall of windows in the living room. “Wanna sit on the balcony and watch the sunset?”
“Let’s do it.”
“I’ll show you where you’re sleeping first, and we can put our stuff down.”
Devin follows me up the stairs. “You mean no more sharing a room? Dang. I was hoping we’d be sharing a bed.”
“In your dreams.”
“Just last night, in fact.”
If we weren’t on the stairs, I’d shove him. Or maybe I’d jump him. It’s a toss-up at this point. “Well, don’t I feel special.” I laugh, stopping at the first door on the right. “This is you, Hotshot. I’m just across the hall. You’ve got your own bathroom in your suite.”
“Well, thanks, Miss Hospitality.”
“I’ll meet you downstairs in a few.”
I shoot Mom a text letting her know we’ve arrived, then use the bathroom and wash my face. Tossing my hair into a messy pile on top of my head, I pull on an oversized sweatshirt, grab a pair of wool socks from the winter clothes we store in the closets, and then head for the stairs with a smile. I love this house. I love the memories of holidays spent by the fireplace, winter breaks spent snowboarding, and summers spent hiking.
The rattle of glasses and a cabinet door closing still my descent. A hummed melody, deep and smooth, reaches my ears.
Devin.I grip the handrail. Falling asleep last night was damn near impossible. Why did he have to tease me with the possibility of another kiss? I wasn’t thinking when I pressed my lips to his. It was instinct—a desire piqued by the surreal outdoor setting and bright fireworks illuminating his face— and I hadn’t felt he thought much of it until he left me wanting in bed. It was barely a kiss, a cinnamon-tinged graze. But that brief connection…
Ugh.Nothing serious can happen. I know that. Even if I was acting on the dinner cruise, I meant most of what I said. It’s not that I don’t believe in long-distance relationships, but I never wanted that with Logan. And Devin has all but screamed his playboy status to the universe, though that doesn’t mean I would hate having a little fun with him. He’s freaking gorgeous, and his playful taunts have only heightened his appeal for some stupid reason. Maybe it’s my healing broken heart’s desire to be wanted. Or perhaps it’s just Devin and his hot boy charm.
I crouch on the top step, keeping out of sight on the open staircase, and steal a peek of him rifling through the double pantry cabinets, making himself at home. His humming ends and begins again, and I grin when I recognize the melody. Standing, I bounce down the steps before he catches me creeping.
“Champagne Problems, huh?”
Devin jolts with a groan. “It’s damn catchy, so sue me.”
“We listened to her entire discography, and that’s the song stuck in your head?”
He closes the cabinet and leans against the doors. “You only have yourself to blame. I’m picking the music when we get back on the road.”
“Oh yay, more pop-punk rattling my brain.” I bite back a smile.
“It’s a hell of a lot better than your country deserting pop princess.”
I can’t help it. My head falls back with a laugh as I steer for the balcony door. Devin trails behind. We settle side by side in a pair of weathered red Adirondack chairs as the sun meets the horizon, smearing the sky in blush and tangerine.
“My grandparents died in a plane crash in the early nineties.”
Devin’s stare lands on the side of my face.
“It’s actually how my parents met. The crash drew national news, of course. After her mom died, my mom saw an article listing the deceased and found there was another teenage girl who lost her parents on that flight. So, she wrote my Aunt Amber a letter, my dad answered, and the rest is history.”
“Wait. Your Mom’s mom and your Dad’s…”
“Both his parents. Yeah.”
“That’s crazy.”
