I finally spot the syllabus at the bottom of the pile. I flip through it until I find Rhys’ number and plug it into my iPhone. “Nope. I just found it.” I scoot the syllabus back to the bottom of the stack. I change out of my ratty old choir fundraiser tee and into a pair of jeans, a soft black flutter sleeve t-shirt, and a pair of flats. As I dab gloss over my lips and check my appearance in my mirror, I see Corinne pluck out her ear buds one by one behind me.
“You’re going out?” She checks the time on the bottom of her laptop screen and then stares back up disbelievingly at my reflection as I drag a brush through my hair. “It’s a Tuesday. You don’t even go out on the weekend.”
Grabbing my bag and keys and shoving my phone deep inside the back pocket of my tight jeans, I flash a quick smile. “I just have to grab something for one of my classes tomorrow. It shouldn’t take me long.”
Her green eyes follow me to the door. “You look really awesome for a Wal-Mart run,” she calls after me.
My stomach is tangled into a mess of nervous knots as I text Rhys from the elevator, asking him where I can met him to get my books. Before I reach the bottom floor, he responds with an address. A few seconds later, another text comes through.
10:39 PM: I’d meet you somewhere, but my roommate’s having a going away party tonight. This time, you come to me, Evelyn.
That last line—that’s the one that screws with me all the way there.
My GPS has me getting to his place in five minutes, and I realize pretty fast that he lives only a few blocks from Ippy’s, which is probably convenient for when he’s bartending. Thanks to the cars filling the driveway and parked along the street, it’s simple to determine which side of the duplex he lives on. I park my Hyundai about a hundred feet down the street, hoping I’m not taking someone else’s usual spot as I walk up the sidewalk to the brick two-story building.
Although the door is wide open and I can see right in through the screen door, I can hear my mother’s voice yelling how impolite it is for me to just prance right in someone’s home without an invitation. I ring the doorbell. A few seconds later, a huge guy built like an offensive lineman answers.
“Damn, I don’t know you either.” He looks behind him at a dark-haired woman with bright red lipstick who’s just as tall as him and model thin. “Another one of your friends?” he asks, and she pokes her head out the door to stare at me inquisitively.
“Nope, not this time,” she informs him in a surprisingly sexy, deep voice. “You lost, honey?”
I move my head to either side, trying to get a peek inside. “I’m actually here to see Rhys. He’s expecting me.”
“Ahhh, Delane. Why didn’t you say that?” The big guy moves aside so I can come in and turns his attention on the ruby-lipped woman. “Do me a favor, babe, and tell Rhys there’s someone here for him.” He looks me over carefully and then shakes his head, changing his mind. “You know what, just take her directly to him.”
“Come on.” She motions for me to follow her, and I stay as close as possible to her skinny body as we maneuver through all the bodies packed inside the small apartment. “I saw him go into his bedroom a couple minutes ago, so he’s probably still in there.” She looks over her shoulder, leans her head to the side to size me up and then smiles at me. “I’m Daisy, for what it’s worth.”
“Evelyn.” For some reason it feels right to use my whole name when it comes to anything dealing with Rhys. When we shuffle past a face I recognize—the strawberry blond guitarist from Ippy’s, Rhys’ ex-girlfriend—before entering a short hallway, my back straightens. Daisy’s eyebrow jerks up.
“Are you and Delane together?” Then she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment and shakes her head quickly. “Shit, sorry. That was nosy, wasn’t it?”
“No ... he’s just my voice instructor.”
Stopping outside a closed door at the very back of the hallway, she releases a low whistle and rests her hand against the wall to stare down at me. “First time I’ve ever heard him referred to as a just anything in the four years I’ve known him.” She bites the corner of her lip, flashing me a smile that’s surprisingly not covered in lipstick a second later. “But if that’s the case, nice to see someone not here just to throw pussy at him.”
Ignoring the fact that my mouth drop opens, she turns and bangs hard on his door. “There’s someone to see you, Rhys,” she shouts, pronouncing his name like “Rice.” When the door opens, and he greets us there in the doorway, he’s shirtless with his jeans hanging low on his hips and his black hair is disheveled.
Daisy bobs her head at me. “Good to meet you, Just-A-Voice-Student.”
Once she’s gone, he and I stand on either side of the threshold staring back at each other. It’s a struggle to keep my gaze from drifting down over his chest. Really, Rhys ... really? He’s all hard, lean muscle, with one of those delicious “V’s” that I’ve only seen in magazines up until now, and I can’t help but wonder when he has time for working out, what with the music and bartending.
And then, I also can’t resist wondering how his chest would feel under my lips.
“I came for my books,” I tell him. But I’m totally cool with ogling you.
He walks backward inside the room, which is dimly lit by a single lamp standing in the corner. It’s sparsely furnished—a queen size bed, dresser, and a nightstand, and there’s a guitar propped up on a stand in the far right corner—so it’s nice and tidy.
“No you didn’t.” He crooks his finger, moving it slowly, motioning me to him. “I promise you’re perfectly safe.”
I don’t doubt for a second that I’m safe—at least physically—but I still stand close to the door after it’s shut behind me. “Of course that’s what I came for,” I say when I finally find my voice.
“There you go.” He gestures to the dresser a few feet away from where I’m standing. My books and sheet music are sitting in a neat pile beside a stack of unopened mail. “It’s all there.”
“Perfect.” But I don’t move. “Thanks.”
Turning away from me, he gets on his bed and rests his back against the plain oak headboard. Shooting me a cocky smile, he nods to the door behind me. “Now that you’ve got what you came for, I’ll see you tomorrow, Evelyn.”
Dammit.
Why does he have to look at me like that? Peer pressure is the biggest bitch I’ve ever met.
Dragging in a deep breath, I hesitantly walk over to the bed where I sit on the edge to keep a safe amount of distance between myself and his partially nude, and very distracting, body. “I’m sorry I took off like that yesterday.”
“It could have been worse,” he says, and at my raised eyebrow, he drawls, “You could’ve done it after we were naked.”
Ugh. The images that comment brings to my mind, especially when he’s already halfway there and I’m in his bed. Fussing with my bottom lip, I weigh my next words carefully. “I don’t think I would’ve had the willpower to leave if we were that far.”
He glances down at the bed beside him before grinning. “Normally I’d suggest we try it, but I don’t think my pride can take it if you run out on me with so many people here.”
“Normally?”
“Are you gonna overanalyze everything I say while you’re here tonight?” he challenges.
I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my face, so I stand up with my back to him. “Your roommate’s the big guy, right? Daisy’s boyfriend?” When he confirms with a murmur, I steal a peek over my shoulder at him. “Where’s he moving to?”
“Jase is leaving for a five month gig in Brazil as a freelance interpreter in a couple weeks.”
Impressed, I nod. Silently, I pace his bedroom, feeling his gaze hot on my back. Out the corner of my eye, I spot the only photo in the entire room. It’s sitting a few inches from my books on his dresser, and I lean down to study it. Rhys is smiling with a couple that look to be in their late 50s, early 60s, and wedged between them is a little girl with short dark hair. Her lips are smooshed up against Rhys’ cheek.