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It’s weird, having him here. Not weird in a bad way. Just…weird.
I didn’t think he’d fit in earlier, clustered around the dining room table my dad had found on the street in mint condition and hauled back to Brooklyn forty years ago. Just like I didn’t think I’d miss waking up to a wheezing air conditioner and drinking my coffee on the front porch while watching the cows in the field.
I was wrong on both accounts.
“These for light reading?”
I smile and shake my head. “They belong to my roommate in law school.”
“Ah, that’s right. Makes sense.”
“She’s the one from South Carolina. She’s back home for the weekend.”
“What about your other roommate?”
“She went to the Hamptons.”
A relief because I never told Serena or Lauren my work trip was to see Kyle Spencer, and I’m sure they’d have a lot of questions about why he was in our apartment if either of them were home. Questions I don’t have answers to since we haven’t discussed what it means that he’s here.
After a few sips of water, I muster up the courage to say, “My bedroom is this way.”
Kyle’s attention snaps to me.
I walk toward the half-open door, assuming he’ll follow.
His fancy SUV picked me up outside my building to go to my mom’s for dinner. Dinner was chaotic and crazy, like usual. We laughed about it on the drive here, and he nodded when I asked if he wanted to come up and see my place. The elevator ride was silent, brimming with awareness and tension.
For the first time, I’m aware Kyle is famous.
Does he do stuff like this? Does he meet parents and tour overpriced apartments in the Village? Or does he have one-night stands with models and actresses in five-star hotels? Get blow jobs from groupies after shows?
It was easier in Texas. That part felt more natural, separated from the real world and following his lead.
All I know about his romantic past is that he was very popular in high school, he would sneak out instead of spending the night, and he dated Sutton Everett. Even though he said his relationship with the gorgeous pop star was totally fake, I have a hard time believing it. Not just that he wasn’t into her, but that she wasn’t interested inhim.
As far as I can tell, there’s a very short list of women not attracted to Kyle Spencer.
And I’m not on it.
“Why is thisexactlywhat I imagined your bedroom looking like?”
I glance at Kyle, who followed me in here and is grinning at my walls. “Why were you imagining what my bedroom looked like?”
“Been bored since you left.”
He saysthat, then goes back to inspecting the vintage concert posters I have framed on my walls. They’re the center of attention, a mix of colors and typography that stand out against the cream walls and white furniture.
“How’d you get all these?”
“Yearsof looking. Some of the online listings were scams. Some sellers didn’t bother packaging them right, and they got damaged in transit. There are still a few I’d love to find, but haven’t been able to.”
“I can get you a Kyle Spencer one. Cheap.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, that’s what I want on my bedroom wall. Your face.”
He turns away from the frames, smirking. “I’ve been reliably informed lots of women have my face on their bedroom wall.”
“Probably to pretend it’s you they’re fucking.Ihave the real thing.”
