She wanted to scream at him to get out, to leave her be, but he kept on haunting her, kept on becoming part of her. “Yep,” she said and rose to her feet. “I better go to bed so I’ll be bright and shiny for the shopping trip tomorrow.”

“Good night, Kit.”

“Good night, Noah.” Why can’t you see me like I see you?

Kit was both surprised and not when her phone rang at ten the next day. “Want some company for that shopping trip?” was Noah’s response to her hello. “I’m about to reach the gates to your house.”

Her fingers clenched into her palm. “You really want us plastered all over the tabloids?”

“Nobody believes we’re a couple, not after we so totally debunked the last lot of rumors.”

Those rumors had begun when a very smart reporter picked up on the edgy chemistry between Noah and the soap actress Kit had been at the time. However, when Noah made it clear he was dating everyone but Kit and Kit started dating a costar, the rumors had died a quick death. Their demise had been helped along by the fact she and Noah had both laughed it off, as had the other members of the band.

In one memorable quote, Noah had said, “Date Kathleen? It’d be like dating my sister.”

So yes, he was probably right about the tabloids not making a big deal of it. “Since when do you like shopping?”

“I’ve been watching that show with the designers. I can make it work.”

Her lips twitched at the well-known catchphrase. That was the thing with Noah—he could charm, but he also had a great sense of humor. Sometimes it was wicked, other times sarcastic, occasionally quiet, but the only people who ever saw it were those he trusted. That list was very short.

Stop it, Kit. Stop trying to make yourself special to him.

Only she knew she was special to him. He might not want her as a lover, but he valued her friendship. Maybe what she needed to do was desensitize herself to his presence, really beat it into her head that all he wanted was to be friends—if she didn’t avoid him, if she repeatedly exposed herself to his indifference to her as a woman, sooner or later, her heart and her body would get with the program.

“Fine,” she said on that pragmatic and painful decision. “I’ll tell Butch to buzz you in.”

Having been about to head out anyway, she was waiting for him when he rolled up in that black Mustang that was all grunt and swagger. “Do you know how much gas this car guzzles?” she asked when she slipped in, not waiting for him to come around to open her door. “I thought you were going to sell it?”

“Turns out I can’t part with her.” Turning the car around after giving the steering wheel an affectionate pat, he drove back toward the gate. “I happen to know that you buy perfume that costs as much per spritz as a tank of gasoline.”

Damn it, he knew too many of her vices. “My taste in expensive perfume is all my mom’s fault.” Adreina had given her the specially blended perfume on her eighteenth birthday with the instruction that she was now a woman and should have a signature scent.

Kit hadn’t expected to like it—her mother’s taste in perfume ran to the sultry and voluptuous—but Adreina had surprised her with a clean scent that carried just a touch of the earth. It fit Kit perfectly. “And anyway,” she added, “I’ve never actually had to buy it. Mom gives me a bottle every birthday.” It delighted Adreina that even after all these years, Kit preferred that perfume to all others.

“Talking about your mom, does she know you’re not rolling in it after your house purchase?” Noah zipped through a yellow light that changed to red halfway through. “Since she’s asking you to spend up for her luncheon.”

“Neither of my parents have any idea, or they’d throw so much money at me I’d drown in it.” Undependable Parker and Adreina might be, but loyal and protective they most certainly were; it was a duality Kit had accepted long ago.

Noah’s glance was perceptive. “You won’t tell them though, will you?”

“I won’t be in such a tight spot as soon as the cosmetics deal is finalized. Another big movie or two, and I’ll be home free, no pun intended.”

“Would you have gone to your folks anyway?”

“You know I wouldn’t.” Noah came from money, as did Abe, but Kit knew the two men hadn’t used any family money to build Schoolboy Choir. No, Fox, Abe, David, and Noah had done it on their own from the ground up. All four men equal and all four men proud of what they’d achieved.

Kit had always been envious of their since-childhood friendship. She’d had friends in school, of course, but no one with whom she’d bonded deeply enough that they’d stayed in touch after graduation. Not anyone’s fault, just the roll of the dice. Becca was her longest-standing friend. They’d clicked at their very first meeting on the set of Primrose Avenue, been close ever since.

And now she had Molly too. She could already tell that friendship would last.

“Hey.” Noah’s voice, a curious smile. “Where did you go?”

“Just thinking about a coffee date I have with Molly.” They planned to go to a little place Thea had recommended.

“Anyway,” she said, “my folks both earned their wealth.” Parker’s parents had ensured that he had the best tennis coaches and could attend the most elite training camps, but he was the one who’d put in the court time; he was the one who’d begged off from nights out and vacations away.

Kit was pretty sure her father had never gone on a spring break blowout, gotten drunk and partied. He’d been too driven, too dedicated to his goal of achieving a Grand Slam—which he’d done not once, but twice. As for Adreina, she’d been born dirt-poor, clawed her way out through sheer grit and determination. It was partly why she lived so flamboyantly now.

“I want to stand on my own feet too,” Kit said, remembering the pleasure of her first paycheck, of how good it had felt to know she’d earned it through her own hard work. “I bet you’ve never taken money from your mother or father either.”

Noah’s expression turned grim. “I have a trust fund that’s been gathering interest and dust for decades. I should donate it or something, but…” He shook his head, his golden hair catching the sunlight and making him appear a young god. “Let’s not talk about my nonrelationship with my folks—I heard your dad’s going to be organizing one of the big tennis tournaments, right?”

“Yes.” Despite his pleasure-seeking lifestyle, her father had never lost his interest in, and passion for, the game. “Mom’s really excited and already making plans for the parties she’ll throw the players and their teams post-match.”

Noah shot her a dark look before returning his attention to the road. “It kind of weirds me out that your parents actually still like each other. Like, for real.”

Kit laughed, unsurprised. Celebrity marriages did not, as a rule, last, especially when you were talking two giant egos. “It occasionally surprises me too.” Her mother could appear so shallow, her father so self-involved, but while they were flaky parents, they were devoted lovers.

“The thing is,” she said to Noah, “Mom and Dad always back each other. They argue in private like the two passionate personalities they are, but in public, say a single bad thing about one to the other, and you’re persona non grata.” Kit loved that aspect of her parents’ marriage.

“And though it makes me squirm to even think about it, my parents continue to find each other hot.” She shuddered. “While I was still in high school, I once walked into the conservatory at our family home to find my naked mother straddling my clothed father.” She scrubbed the heels of her hands over her eyes as Noah’s laughter, deep and unrestrained, filled the car. “I’m pretty sure she was undoing his belt at the time.”