Page 11 of Big & Burly Rockstar

Devon’s eyebrows arch and he opens his mouth to reply when something behind me catches his attention. He grimaces. “Party’s over, boys.”

I turn to look out of the window and am blinded by a camera flash.

“For fuck’s sake,” Michael grumbles, his surly features drawn together, while Devon scowls around the bar.

“I wonder which of those fuckers called the press,” he says.

Finn shakes his head. “It was Pete.”

Everyone’s eyes go to him. “What?” Devon asks.

Finn silently hands him his phone.

His jaw clenched, Devon looks at the screen. I glance over his shoulder and see a text from Pete.

FYI, I’ve told the press where you’ll be. If Eleanore is to serve her purpose, she needs to actually be seen with Devon. Make sure to give them a show. ;)

Devon takes in a shuddering breath, his eyes sparkling with suppressed fury.

“I hope there’s a special place in hell for people who use winky-face emojis like that,” I say, trying to defuse some of the tension, but Devon ignores me. He glances at Finn and some wordless exchange passes between them. He turns to me, a small, sad smile on his lips. “Come on, princess. Let’s go.”

He stands up and pulls me to my feet. Heart thundering in my chest, I follow him outside where Devon’s bodyguard meets us.

The paparazzi swarm us, and their loud shouts and flashing cameras disorient me. I clutch Devon’s hand like it’s a lifeline, stumbling blindly after him.

“Who’s the girl, Devon? Is she your girlfriend?”

“What’s her name?”

“How did you meet?”

He doesn’t respond. After what feels like forever, we reach the car. I expect Devon to climb inside, but instead he half turns toward the press. And then he spins me around so I face him and cups my face in his large hands. Before I can think or move or even breathe, he kisses me.

The shouts of the paparazzi and the flashes of light fade into the background. Devon’s mouth is warm and surprisingly soft on mine. His kiss is gentle at first, barely a whisper of touch, but suddenly he crushes me against his broad chest and my arms go around his neck.

I don’t know which of us moved first or who deepened the kiss. All I know is that I’ve never been kissed like this before. Like I’m precious, and beautiful, and desirable. Like I matter.

But then Devon pulls back abruptly, looking at me with wide, stunned eyes. It’s like a button is pushed and suddenly I can hear the screams of the paparazzi and Jake’s quiet laughter. Wordlessly, Devon pushes me into the car and the guys pile in after me. I stare out of the darkened window, feeling lightheaded.

I shouldn’t be surprised he kissed me. And I’m not, not really. Pete told him to give the press a show, and that’s what he did. No, what surprises me is my reaction to it.

Devon sits opposite from me. Every time I chance a glance at him, he doesn’t look at me. My stomach sinks. Maybe he hated the kiss. Maybe—enough, I chastise myself. I have a goddamn stalker and I’m worrying about whether an arrogant rockstar likes the way I kiss? I shake my head, annoyed with myself. Devon has gotten under my skin, and I have no clue what to do about it.

The men’s voices barely cut through the hum of the engine. I don’t want to know what they’re saying, anyway. I couldn’t bear to hear them make fun of what just happened.

The car comes to a halt and I blink. “That was fast,” I say, more to myself than to the others.

“We’re just letting the guys out,” Devon says, and his deep rumble makes heat sweep my body. I swallow. “Oh.”

Once we’ve said goodbye to Jake, Finn and Michael and the car door closes behind them, the ensuing silence is painfully awkward. Still, neither of us breaks it. Not until we’re at home and I’m about to go upstairs and into my bedroom.

“Elli?” Devon calls from behind.

I turn to see him looking at me with a soft smile playing around his lips. “What?”

With three long strides, he crosses the distance between us and brushes a kiss on my cheek. “Sleep well.”

He turns and walks away while I stay frozen to the spot, my heart thundering and my mind a swirling maelstrom. The reckless part of me doesn’t want to go to bed. It wants to go after Devon. To maybe have a drink or two, and see where it leads.

I force myself to walk up the stairs, my steps slow and heavy. I need to keep my wits about me. I can’t afford to be distracted by Devon. No matter how much I may want to be.

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