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Abreath escapes her. “I’mnot sure a designer dress will fit me.I’mnot exactly the right shape.”
Givingher a thorough once-over,Itake in every gorgeous curve while she fidgets nervously.She’sfucking stunning, even standing there in jeans and aT-shirt, without any makeup on.
Shae’snever been insecure about her body before.NotthatI’veever noticed anyway.Whatthe hell happened?
Inan instant,I’min front of her.Itip her chin up with my finger. “Youare beautiful,Bambi.Insideand out.Youlook gorgeous in anything you wear, and the designer who gets the privilege of dressing you will be damn lucky.”
Herlips part, drawing my attention to them for a moment beforeImake eye contact again, hoping she can sense my sincerity.Butbeing this close to her, having her look up at me with so much trust in her eyes, something sharp and hot flares behind my ribs.Thesame thingIfelt yesterday in the pool whenItouched her.Somethingthat feels almost possessive.Ilet my hand drop away and step back.
“Devon’sright.Youalways look beautiful,Shae,”Beausays. “You’lloutshine every other woman on the red carpet.”
Hecomes over and presses a kiss to the top of her head.Shesmiles up at him, her eyes soft, and a shot of jealousy hits me in the chest.
Icurl my hands into fists and take a deep breath.Ican’t allow myself to feel that way aboutShae.
Ihave no right.
AsIturn to leave, there’s only one thought going through my head.
Ihope to god inviting her to stay with us wasn’t a terrible mistake.
ChapterSix
Shae
“Whereare we going?”IaskDevonas we drive out of the parking garage.Islip my sunglasses from my head down onto my nose as we emerge into the light.It’smy third morning inLA, andI’mactually getting used to the constant blazing sunshine.
Devonflashes me a grin. “Justfor a drive.”
“Hmm, mysterious,”Isay, narrowing my eyes at him in mock suspicion.
Hechuckles. “There’ssomething we need to do.”
“Okay, if you won’t tell me,IguessI’llhave to do a terrible job of controlling my curiosity then.MaybeI’llspend the whole drive trying to guess our destination.”Itap my chin, then snap my fingers. “Iknow.TheGRAMMYMuseumso you can check out theHowtoWinaGrammyexhibit again.Youknow, to help with your possible nomination this year.”Ismile at the memory of when he andBeautook me to the museum the very first timeIvisited them inLosAngeles, before they even joinedCrossfire.Andhow they’d joked about taking notes so they could win aGrammyone day. “Or—Iknow,”Isay. “We’reheading to theHollywoodBowlHallofFameso you can wander around for a few hours, daydreaming about the day you’re inducted into it.”
Heshoots me a smirk. “Goodguesses, but wrong.Thoseare on the schedule for tomorrow.”
Ilaugh, then relax into my seat.It’ssoothing to be driven around by someone else.Ilike sitting back and looking out the window.Itgives me a chance to do some people watching and check out the shops and buildings we pass.
AndIcan’t lie.Ilove watchingDevondrive.There’ssomething super sexy about a man as gorgeous as he is driving a stick shift.Particularlywhen he’s wearing a short-sleeved shirt andIcan sneak glances at his forearms as he navigates through traffic.Isn’tthere a name for that?Forearmporn or something?
It’sparticularly hot when he changes gears.Maybebecause he’s so in control in that moment, with his eyes fixed on the road ahead, the movement of the muscles in his arm smooth as he goes up and down a gear.Whatwould it be like if he took control of my body the way he—
Iquickly look back out the window, my cheeks hot.Ishouldn’t be putting the wordsDevonandcontrolandmy bodytogether.Nogood can come from that.
Ikeep my attention fixed firmly outside the car for the rest of the trip.It’snot too long before we’re pulling up and parking down a relatively quiet side-street.
“Ichose this place because it’s out of the way,”Devonsays, pulling a ball cap down over his head.
Ilook around for a hint of what might have brought us here, but there’s nothing in sight that seems to fit the bill.
Heclimbs out of the car, andIget out too. “Whatare we doing?”
Hejust grins. “Thisway,” he says, putting his hand on my back and guiding me to the end of the street and around the corner.
Andthat’s whenIsee it.Anart supply store.
“Sinceyou couldn’t bring your painting stuff with you,Ithought we could pick some up now.”
