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Owen buffeted his shoulder. “It’s been too long, dude. Way too long. Why’n’cha ever come to one of our shows? Joe sent you tickets every time we played on this coast.”
Dev didn’t reveal by so much of a flicker of an eyelash that Joe had done nothing of the sort, probably on Nash’s orders. “Mmmphmmm.”
“And dude…” He leaned closer, lowering his voice to what he probably imagined was a stage whisper, but after decades behind his drums, between amp towers, was more of a stage bellow. “LA is awesome. You gotta come.”
“Thanks, man. Appreciate the offer.” Dev turned to Eli, whose personal style as well as his stage presence had always rivaled Equinox Mountain—unmovable and remote, yet somehow magnetic. He held out his hand. “Eli.”
Eli didn’t shake—he was probably in touch-avoidance mode today—but he inclined his head and murmured, “Dev,” before turning back to the lilac bush.
Studiously ignoring Nash seething next to him, Dev faced the unknown man in the driveway. “Hi. I’m Dev, and you must be—”
“That’s Harry,” Nash said, and then sidled closer and hissed, “your replacement. Your total replacement, know what I mean? But that’s why we’re here, right?”
Dev’s smile cranked closer to a grimace when he caught Casey’s startled blink. He dialed his expression into something more welcoming—he hoped—and stepped away from Nash. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”
“It’s Haru, actually,” Casey said. “Haru Inada.” He smiled at Harry—who, apparently, wasn’t Harry at all, but trust Nash to ignore other people’s preferences. “Have I got that right?”
Haru nodded, but his smile was tight. “You do.” He held out a hand to Dev. “It’s an honor to meet you at last, although I feel like I know you already.” When Nash snorted, pink tinged Haru’s high cheekbones. “From your music. Your songs. Your style.”
“Which you still haven’t managed to master,” Nash said. He invaded Dev’s space again and placed a hand on his lower back, just above the curve of his ass. “Now, why don’t we cut the bullshit? Take me to my real room.” He leered. “The one I’m sharing with you.”
Haru’s smile vanished and his expression turned almost painfully blank.
Fuck, did Nash just do that?
If Nash’s not-so-subtle insinuations were accurate, Haru was his new boyfriend as well as POV’s lead guitarist, and Nash had just thrown him under the bus in front of his bandmates, his manager, the fucking driver, and a couple of—to Haru—perfect strangers.
Same old Nash.
“Dude,” Owen muttered.
Dev edged away from Nash again, took Casey’s hand and gazed down into his eyes. “I was about to tell you. I moved all your stuff over to the cottage.” He kissed Casey’s forehead, earning a delighted hoot from Owen and a snarl from Nash. “Is that okay? You’re there every night, anyway.”
Casey’s smile was a little shaky. “That’s fine.”
“We’ll put Nash in your old room. Eli can have the green bedroom, Owen—”
“Oh! Oh! Casey said you put me in the nursery, right?” Owen turned to Haru. “You should share with me. It’s a huge room. Three beds. And the haunted attic is right overhead.”
Dev lifted his eyebrows. “Don’t let Owen snow you,” he said to Haru. “Harrison House is not haunted.”
“It so is,” Owen said to Haru out of the corner of his mouth.
“We’d arranged for each of you to have your own room,” Casey said, “but if you’d rather share—”
“Come on, dude.” Owen nudged Haru in the ribs. “We’ve shared worse rooms on tour.”
Haru glanced at Nash, whose frowning attention was still on Dev. “I—”
“How about this?” Casey said. “I’ll take you all up and show you what we’ve got arranged for you. Since you’ll be the only ones staying here, you’re free to mix and match accommodations however you like.” He spread his palms. “None of the rooms have an en suite, so other than window placement and furniture arrangement, they’re equally comfortable.” Casey bent to pick up a suitcase.
“Leave that, Casey,” Dev said. “Time enough for everyone”—he emphasized the word—“to cart up their luggage after they know where they’ll be sleeping.”
“All right. This way.” Casey trotted up the porch steps, with Eli trailing morosely at his heels, Haru following after a last glance at Nash, and Owen bounding ahead to open the door for all of them.
Nash watched them go, but didn’t move. Typical. That was Nash. No rules applied to him that didn’t align with his own agenda. “So,” Nash drawled, “that’s my replacement? You couldn’t do better? Jesus, Dev, do you know how insulting that is?”
Dev planted his feet wide and crossed his arms. “If we’re talking insults, how about the way you treated Haru just now?”
