Chapter Two - Devon
Devon had lied. Sure, the last time he saw Mindy Cassidy, she hadn’t been his type. That had been years ago when she was still in braces and didn’t have all those curves everywhere.
But now? He stood in the green room, a shot of vodka in his hand, and he couldn’t drag his gaze away from her. All that fiery red hair, and the sprinkle of freckles across her face. And he could see a smattering of them on her breasts, thanks to the scoop neckline of her purple t-shirt.
Bret glanced at Devon and narrowed his eyes. “You remember those rules.”
“No one has answered my question. How does this work?” Mindy asked again. Her cheeks were flushed and she used a hand to fan herself.
Bret spoke up from his place on the couch with Mindy. “You’d come on the road with us. There are photo ops every day. You’ll go down to breakfast together, you’ll come to the shows and be in the wings, smiling that sweet smile. You pretend to adore Dev, hard as that may be, and we keep our recording contract.”
“You can handle all that, right?” Devon asked her. He couldn’t help trying to goad her.
Mindy quirked her lips to the right, her face thoughtful. “I’m not the one who needs a relationship.”
Dev tossed back his vodka and exhaled quickly as the fire slid down his throat. “What does that mean?”
“Well, doesn’t it need to be the other way around? Doesn’t Dev need to look like he adores me?”
“I can hold up my end, honey. You just show up and let me work my magic.” He locked gazes with her, and the attraction flowed between them. She still wanted him. And she was no kid, not anymore.
Bret stood up between them. “There will be no magic worked.”
Right. Of course, Bret was right. This was his best friend’s little sister. It didn’t matter if the two of them had a thing happening, some kind of chemistry. What mattered was that he save the band’s record deal. And prove to his father, once and for all, that he was no screw-up.
He hadn’t seen Mindy in so long because he didn’t go back to Indiana, ever. They skipped it completely on tours because he couldn’t even stand to be in the same state as his father.
“So what do we do first?” Mindy asked. She knotted her fingers together in her lap. She was going along, but she wasn’t comfortable with it.
“First off,” Devon said, “relax. You look like you’re ready to jump out of your skin. Come here.”
Mindy stood in front of him, her arms at her sides. “Now what?”
He took her hands and pulled her into his arms, so he could look down into her face. The quickening in his body didn’t mean anything. He could ignore his attraction for her. She was a pretty girl and he was a red-blooded male. Didn’t mean a thing. “Mindy, meet my eyes.” He glanced at Bret. “I don’t know if this is going to work.”
Bret took a step back and examined them. “No, you look good enough together. Cute, even. Everyone will love you going for the-girl-next-door after your past relationships.”
“That’s not what I mean. She’s stiff in my arms like she doesn’t want to be here, and she won’t meet my gaze. There’s not a woman alive who wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.”
Mindy pushed him away and took a step back. Now her gaze snapped to his. “God, your arrogance is incredible. Get over yourself. Some of us don’t trade partners in and out like tissues. It’s going to take some getting used to. Give me a minute, for heaven’s sake.”
“We don’t have that long. We’re walking out of this building together, getting in a car, and going to our hotel room.”
She put a hand to her crimson cheeks and glanced at her brother. “Did he just say ‘our hotel room?’”
“Well, yeah. You’ve got to share a room. But it’s a suite, and Devon can take the couch. There’s a party first.” Bret took his sister’s hand. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t think you can handle it, Min.”
Devon wasn’t entirely sure he could do this and maintain the distance he knew Bret expected of him. Could he do the right thing and keep his hands off Mindy? He wasn’t sure he’d ever been a good enough guy to not take advantage of the close quarters they’d be sharing.
“What about my clothes?” she asked, out of nowhere. Leave it to her to focus on details that didn’t really matter. “I didn’t pack for more than a day or two.”
Devon was still lost in his own thoughts. He strolled back to the bar and poured another healthy shot of vodka. Bret spoke up, “We’ve got that covered, too. I hired an image consultant. You’ll get an all new wardrobe. Devon’s treat.”
“I’ve got a certain standard to live up to.” Why was he being so unkind to her? Maybe because he didn’t trust himself.
She looked at him then, and the hurt shone in her eyes. He wanted to apologize for being such a bastard about all this, but what was the point? The more they could dampen this fire between them, the better off they’d both be. “I’ll do this, but not for you, Devon. You’ve become a world-class ass. I’m doing this so you don’t ruin my brother’s future.”
He drained the shot of vodka, letting it burn him clean through. He had become a world-class ass. And he’d do it for her brother, and all their band mates as well. But he didn’t like it. This wasn’t going to lead anywhere good. “Let’s get to the party. You might want to change into something a little more… attractive.”
Glaring at him the whole time, she grabbed the small bag beside the couch. “Where can I change?”
Bret took her by the arm. “I’ll show you.” He shot daggers with his eyes at Devon.
Devon looked at it this way—he could keep his hands to himself, or he could not be an ass. Doing both wasn’t possible.