Devlin, who’d been four seats away, moved over and sat right next to me, taking Killian’s chair. “Hey. Is it okay if we start over?”
“Do you want to, for real?” I asked, surprised.
“I might be an idiot from time to time, but I’m not blind. I can see K’s crazy about you.”
He noticed that? So that moment at the table wasn’t just me? The fact that Devlin noticed made me feel good. It made it seem less like something I might’ve imagined.
He continued, “I don’t want any bad feelings between us. Really sorry for what happened earlier.” His voice was steady, and he didn’t try to avoid eye contact or shoot me a pretty smile to get me to forgive him.
“Apology accepted.” Devlin and Killian were band mates, and ultimately, they had to work together. I didn’t want to be the reason they had a falling out, especially when Devlin was apologizing.
“You aren’t going to hold it against me for the rest of my life, are you?” He gave me a slightly suspicious look. “You’re saying it in a tone that says you might.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t do or say things that require an apology.”
He shrugged. “Wouldn’t have been necessary if Killian had just flown out to Spain like I told him to.”
“Why didn’t he?” Kingstree wasn’t bad, but Spain had to be gorgeous. If I’d been burned out and had a lot of money like Killian, I would’ve gone to a beach in Spain to recover.
“He gets really anxious every time he has to fly. Absolutely hates it. I mean, it isn’t like we fly crammed next to a toilet or anything. But no matter what cabin we’re in, or even if we fly private, he acts like we’re about to die. I sent him some studies on airline safety.” He laughed. “Didn’t help.”
Devlin’s explanation made sense. Sympathy stirred. I remembered what Mir had told me about their parents’ death. It must’ve been traumatizing, enough to make Killian avoid flying if he could.
“You should’ve just left him alone,” I said. “Then none of this would’ve happened.”
Devlin frowned, then looked at me like he didn’t understand what I’d just said. Maybe he couldn’t compute why he’d have to take responsibility for anything.
Then he shrugged again and grinned. “You’re different than I thought.”
“Why? Are you sad I’m not the type to fall to my feet at the fame and good looks of Killian and you?”
He leaned closer. “You think I’m good-looking?”
I almost rolled my eyes. Should’ve known he’d latch on to that. “You’re missing the point.”
“No, I’m not. You think I’m hot.” He sat back, all smug and self-satisfied.
“Careful. If your head gets too big to fit into an airline cabin, you might have to check it.”
“It’s not bragging if it’s true.”
“No, it’s still bragging. You’re just bragging about something true.”
He laughed. “Okay. So only Killian’s worth banging?” I almost choked. He continued, “Don’t be shocked. Pretty much every woman in the world thinks it’s her life’s goal to bang him.”
This was such a weird conversation, but maybe he was trying to shield Killian, in case I was a gold digger. Killian was filthy rich and handsome and young, and hadn’t he said that women had tried to take advantage?
My gaze darted briefly to the Sextet, who were busy channel-surfing. If Killian and I had never met, they’d be banging him, as Devlin had put it.
I looked back at Devlin. “Banging someone isn’t a life goal,” I said. “It’s a bonus, frosting on the cake at the most.”
“Huh. Figured you’d be more sentimental about it.” He propped his chin in one hand. “You’re a romance writer.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t snorted any coke yet.” When he raised his eyebrows, I added in my extra-sweet voice, “You’re a rock star.”
He laughed. “Okay, you have a point. And I like you. So I’ll make it up to you.”
“How? I’m not interested in your body or anything else you could offer.”
He shrugged. “I don’t want your body either. I don’t bang my buddies’ girls, and I don’t like women who don’t look at me like I’m on their bucket list. But I’ll think of something, ’cause I’m awesome like that.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Killian
My gut tightened as I watched Dev move next to Emily and start talking with her. What was he saying? Probably nothing about the orgy he’d invited every band mate to last year. That had been embarrassing. And resulted in over a hundred thousand dollars in damage at the hotel because some of the girls who’d attended got out of control. Devlin was totally over Ashley, but he’d been hooking up with more and more unsuitable women even though he could do a lot better. It was as though he was purposely trying to avoid a situation where he might fall for a woman he was with.
The urge to quit cleaning up and evict him and his harem swelled. I hadn’t wanted to invite him or the girls in for breakfast. If Abby hadn’t shown up, I would’ve told them to go feed themselves somewhere else, because I was still annoyed about the way my morning with Emily had been ruined.
But Abby smiled at the girls like they were wondrous, mythical creatures, and I hadn’t had the heart to kick them out. And if I asked them to get out now, that would make me look like a dick. I was experienced enough to know that pissing off the mother of a woman I liked was a terrible idea.
“I can’t believe Emily’s dating a rock star!” Abby’s voice shook, her eyes still wide and bright. “She never even hinted.”
“Really?” Emily had thought I was a pest trying to steal her ice cream and shatter her peace and quiet, but wouldn’t she have had a chance to tell her mom about me? Or tell everyone, for that matter? Every woman I’d dated since the band’s breakout hit had bragged everywhere about dating me.
My reactions used to range from mild irritation to outright hate, depending on the result of such bragging. But now I was annoyed Emily hadn’t said anything about me to somebody as important as her mother.
Inconsistent, but there it was.
“She didn’t know who I was when we first met,” I said, as I took the plate she handed to me and loaded it into the dishwasher. For some bizarre reason, I didn’t want Abby to think Emily hadn’t mentioned me because I wasn’t important enough.
“She didn’t?” Abby straightened. “Well, she isn’t into music.”
“Yeah, she told me.”
A soft sigh. “It’s Brandon’s fault.”
Brandon? Some ex-boyfriend, or…?
Abby saw my expression. “Her father. My husband.”
“Oh, okay. He doesn’t like music either?” I asked cautiously, not wanting to trigger another bout of crying. Consoling a woman who was sobbing over a cheating husband was beyond my experience.
“Oh, he loves music. That’s why she stopped listening to it. That’s also why she eats junk food rather than cooking for herself.”