by Lily Graison
He walked back into the room, cursing under his breath, and threw his phone back into the bag before slamming the door. He looked up at her, watching her eyebrows rise in amusement. “What?”
“Do you normally talk to yourself or is this psychotic behavior something new? Since you’re still here, this is need to know information. I have to be able to tell the police how crazy you were when they find your cold lifeless body on the side of the mountain.”
Devin couldn’t help but laugh at seeing the wide smile on her face. “Actually, I was trying to call you a cab, but I guess now you'll have to walk.”
“Me? I'm not leaving. You are!”
“Oh, now there's where you're wrong, precious. This is my cabin and I'm not leaving.”
“No, this is my cabin and stop with the stupid pet names,” she spat out. “My name is Holly.”
“Fine, Holly,” Devin said, drawing her name out intentionally. “I can’t get a signal on the phone and I sure as hell am not walking back down the mountain.”
“Fine,” she said. “Wait right here.”
She darted up the stairs, returning moments later with a cell phone in her hand. She locked eyes with him after punching in a few numbers. The smile on her face was smug. Devin couldn’t help but grin when he heard the tell-tell signal of a dying battery.
Her smile disappeared and she looked at the phone before grunting in frustrating and darted back up the stairs. He stood by the door, listening to her talk to herself before she yelled, “Fuck!”
“Anytime, darling,” he yelled up to her. “Just get your cute ass back down here and I’ll get straight to work on that.”
She appeared at the top of the stairs and glared at him. “Are you always so crude?”
“I don’t think I’m crude.”
“Of course you don’t,” she said, descending the stairs for a second time. “I can’t find the damn phone charger.”
Devin laughed. More so when her face turned bright red as she stomped to the sofa and flopped down, burying her hands in her hair and saying, “This is not happening.”
Crossing the room, Devin stopped at the end of the sofa and waited until she looked up at him. “Normally I wouldn’t give a rats ass whether you froze to death on the side of the mountain but, since you gave me such a lovely show upon entering, I’m sure we can come to...some sort of arrangement.” A cozy fire, two adults stranded alone. What more could a man ask for? He leaned his head to the side and gave her a good long look from head to toe.
Her eyes widened to cartoon proportions and her mouth flew open. He smiled down at her, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips, and he bit it to keep from voicing his thoughts.
She sprang from the couch, her mouth snapping shut as she closed the distance between them. “Listen here buster,” she said, poking her index finger into his chest as she stood toe to toe with him. “There will be no... arrangements of any kind! This is my cabin. It's stocked with my favorite foods and the only one leaving is you! Now, if you walk fast, you can make it back to the resort by sun-up.”
Devin grinned. He couldn't help it. Her face was bright red, her chest heaving with every harsh breath she took and he wasn't sure why, but seeing her get so worked up over the whole thing amused him. Just seeing that much fury contained in such a small package was the most thrilling thing he had been witness to in over two years, pathetic as it was.
He chuckled and reached into his pocket, pulling out his smokes and plucking one from the pack. “You know damn good and well I'm not going to do that. The resort is ten miles from here and I'm not about to walk that far for anyone.”
“Well, I saw a nice little cave on the way up. It didn't look too far away. You can sleep with the animals for all I care and don't even think about lighting that thing up in here.”
Devin stilled his hand in mid-motion, his thumb ready to fire the flint and light the cigarette dangling from his lip. He sighed as his amusement started to wane. She was becoming bitchier by the minute and no matter how much fun it would be to see her get riled up even more, he wasn't sure he was ready for what she may do if he pushed her too far. He really didn’t want to walk to that resort. Not that he would.
Pulling the unlit cigarette from his mouth, he placed it behind his ear, and grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine. So, what do we do now?”
“Um, you can leave so I can go to sleep?” Holly grinned.
“Not hardly,” Devin snorted. “You leave.”
“Not gonna happen.”
Devin stared at her, watching her jut her chin up defiantly. He grinned. Taking a step back away from her he turned, sitting down on the sofa. He made a huge production of fluffing the pillows stacked up at the end and lying down, closing his eyes after giving her a wink.
Holly gaped at him. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”
“I'm being a gentleman and letting you have the bed, but if you keep up all that bitching, I may just change my mind.”
Holly stood there, completely speechless as she stared down at him. She didn't know what to do or say. This total stranger had just lounged out across her sofa and made himself at home. Her anger boiled hot. “Look, buddy.”
“Devin.”
Holly watched him smile with his eyes closed. He started humming and completely ignored her. “Fine…Devin,” drawing his name out the way he’d done hers. “You are not staying here. I was here first. The way I see it, the cabin is mine.”
Holly watched him, her gaze sweeping over his form and she gritted her teeth. He was ignoring her. He continued to hum, getting louder by the second.
The fact he was ignoring her wasn’t as annoying as the song he was torturing her with. How many times had she heard it? Every radio station in the country played it every half hour and Roxy sang it daily, saying the words of the song were almost orgasmic.
When he continued to just lay there, she shook her head and grunted in frustration, turning and making her way to the stairs. She stopped the second he started singing.
She listened to the words, the tone of his voice as he sang, and her heart rate increased with every verse. Turning her head, she looked over her shoulder to where he laid. She studied his face, recognition slowly clearing her foggy brain. Her eyes widened a second later.
It can’t be.
His hair was short. That wasn’t right. His hair should be long, falling over his shoulders. It was in the last picture she saw of him. She glanced at his arm. The tattoo was the same. The hair color, his name, the trademark black jeans, but…
He opened his eyes and flashed her a devilish smirk. Now that was definitely familiar. Was it really him?
When he winked at her, she gasped. “Holy shit,” she whispered. “You're Devin Shaw.”
Devin sat up slowly, a cocky grin on his face. He lifted one brow and gave her a nod of his head. “Bout damn time you recognized me. Now pipe down, I need my beauty rest.”
Three
Holly stood rooted to the floor until her mouth had gone completely dry from hanging open. Her heart raced in her chest and she blinked a few times before closing it.
She stared down at who she now knew was the very famous, although troubled musician, Devin Shaw, front man for the band, Wicked, the hottest thing to hit the music scene in years.
Her hands started sweating instantly. Devin Shaw. She was in the same room as Devin Shaw. Roxy would shit bricks when she found out!
He’d lain back down after giving her one last grin and she stared at his silent form wondering what to do. All that pretty flesh was spread out right before her eyes and she had to shake her head to remain focused on the problem at hand and not him.
But, how many nights had Roxy drooled over every member of that band, Luke especially, going into detail of what she’d like to do to them given the chance?
And here she was, her hungry gaze devouring Devin Shaw in the flesh.
She bit her cheek to keep from smiling and turned, making her way quickly to t
he upper loft.
She searched her bags again for the phone charger. How could she forget to pack it? Sitting on the bed after the third time rummaging through her things, she sighed.
Now what?
What Devin Shaw was doing here was a better question. Weren’t rock stars supposed to be living life in the fast lane? Yet, here he was, sleeping on her rented sofa in the mountains of Tennessee.
What did she do now?
Roxy would know what to do. Of course, knowing her friend, she would tell her to take advantage of the situation and ride Devin like the stallion he was, but that was something Holly couldn’t do. She’d never been the go-get ‘em kind of girl. Besides, just because he was a rock star didn’t mean he was fuckable.
Her inner eye recalled all that sinful flesh laid out on the sofa and she grinned. Okay, so maybe he was fuckable. That didn’t mean she would throw herself at him like some love-crazed groupie.
The thoughts of actually sharing the cabin with him lasted about as long as it took for her mind to register how bad of an idea that was. The last she’d read, he had been in rehab for substance abuse, and what that substance was, had never been revealed.
He was ill tempered, arrested after he attacked someone at one of his concerts, and every detail of his life splattered on every magazine cover and trash paper imaginable.
Then again, how many times had Roxy gone on and on about how the press lied to sell magazines? She was probably right too. Every time that band appeared in a magazine, Roxy snatched it up and devoured every word written about them, proving her point.
She sighed, lifted her hand, and pushed her hair back away from her face. What was she going to do? She couldn’t possibly share the cabin with him. The idea was insane. Devin Shaw? How would she ever survive two weeks with him underfoot? Maybe he isn’t staying that long. She frowned and went to lie down across the bed.
****
Devin let out a long breath and turned his head to look up at the bedroom loft. Dim light shown on the walls but he couldn’t sense any movement. The cabin was quiet; the only sounds were that of the fire popping and the wind outside whistling through the trees.
Holly had looked completely shocked when she finally realized who he was. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little disappointed it had taken her so long to figure it out. He was used to screaming girls recognizing him from four blocks away. She was a first.
He didn't know what to do. His cell phone didn't work and hers was useless as well. He was here for the next month. There was no way he could spend that much time with her and still expect to get anything done. He was here to write and get his shit together.
Having her underfoot would be a distraction. He’d yet to meet a woman he didn’t eventually sink his cock into. Women threw themselves at him daily and he was happy to oblige. Of course, bedding Holly was in no way a burden. The girl was a looker. A little plain compared to the girls he’d been with but that didn’t make her less attractive. She looked sweet and innocent, like a grade-school teacher with curves and tits that would stop traffic. The vision of her sweating and screaming his name put a smile on his face. Seeing her by the fire, naked and beautiful, was proof enough. He’d fuck her silly given the chance.
He sat up and stared into the fire. If you can’t get rid of them, fuck ‘em. It had worked for years. Why not now? Besides, how long had it been now? Too damn long.
Four
Holly stretched out her limbs and opened her eyes. She was still lying across the bed in her clothes. She turned her head toward the window, looking out across the mountain. She could hear the birds singing their praises to the early morning light. The fluttering of life outside brought a smile to her face.
The sun was cresting the mountain and showering its rays across the valley below. It was too beautiful for words. Turning and grabbing the edge of the blankets, she pulled them up and under her chin, and stared out into a new day. She lay there, watching nature stir to life for long minutes.
This is what she had wanted when she left the city. Peace and quiet.
“What the fucking hell?”
Holly jumped at the sound of Devin’s voice before rolling her eyes. “So much for peace and quiet.”
She listened to a montage of colorful words before she sighed and sat up. Throwing the blankets back, she crawled from the bed and walked to the railing, looking down.
Devin was in the kitchen opening every cabinet door, looking inside, before cursing and slamming it shut. He still wore nothing but jeans, his chest and feet bare. His hair was disheveled, sticking up in various places on the top of his head. The morning sun coming through the kitchen windows illuminated him, casting a small halo around his form. If possible, he was more gorgeous in natural light. She rolled her eyes at the thought. Don’t even go there, Holly. He’s not staying.
She watched him for a few minutes before she cleared her throat. “Do you mind? Some of us enjoy peaceful mornings, not the obscene ramblings of the clinically insane.”
He turned his head, looking up at her before he smiled. “Well, good morning, princess. Sleep well?”
“Knowing there is an insane man sleeping under my roof? Oh sure. Best night of my life.”
“That's what most women say,” Devin grinned, before turning back to the cabinets.
Holly stared at him for long minutes, chewing on her bottom lip to keep from smiling. He could be such an ass. A cute ass, but still an ass.
Rolling her eyes she stepped back from the rail. Walking over to her luggage she almost growled in frustration at the smile still trying to form. “He’s not cute,” she mumbled under her breath. “He's smug and arrogant and, and… his hair looks stupid all curly and wild like that. There.” She nodded her head to prove her point.
Clothes in hand, she grabbed her toiletries before making her way down the stairs. She kept her focus on the hallway but she could see Devin out of the corner of her eye.
He was watching her.
She walked around the sofa, making her way to the hall. A small glimpse into the kitchen revealed Devin leaning against the cabinet, arms crossed over his chest. He was still watching her! What is his defect?
Entering the bathroom, Holly locked the door behind her. She laid her things down on the sink and sighed heavily, looking around the room.
She’d only had a brief glance at it the night before and the fluorescent lights did nothing for the beauty she saw now. Much like the cabin, it was a work of art.
Bright morning sun filtered through the tinted glass that made up the ceiling. The shower was the most impressive thing she’d seen in years. There wasn’t a shower door, only a wide opening. The entire back wall was smooth rock. The large showerhead jutted out from between the rocks making it almost invisible.
She crossed the room, finding the control knobs on the wall, and turned it on.
“Wow.” The rocks glistened as the water ran over them; the sound it made reminding her of a trickling stream.
She undressed while waiting for the temperature to adjust before stepping inside under the spray. Her smile was huge by the time the water hit her skin. She washed quickly, not taking the time to enjoy the shower like she should have, and was finished in record time.
Dressing in jeans and a simple blue shirt, she towel dried her hair. The desire to dry and fluff her hair, slather on make-up, and dash her body with perfume caused her to roll her eyes.
She sighed while looking at her reflection. If Devin weren’t here, she’d walk out there as is without another thought. Why, just because she knew a famous rock star was in the other room, did she feel the need to be someone she wasn’t?
You’re not interested, so why bother?
The argument sounded good in her head but her hand stilled on the bathroom doorknob. What if he found her unattractive? There wasn’t anything glamorous about her. She was plain, nothing special about her at all.
Maybe a little make-up wouldn’t hurt.
Growling in frustratio
n she shook her head. No. She wouldn’t dress up for him. She would be herself. If he didn’t like her, then so be it. But what did it matter anyway? She wasn’t interested. Nope, not interested at all.
She stepped out of the bathroom and her stomach growled a second later when the scent of bacon and eggs reached her. She smiled and straightened her spine, fluffed her slightly damp hair, and made her way down the hall.
Devin was sitting at the kitchen bar reading a magazine when she walked into the living room and she put her things down on the coffee table. He glanced at her briefly, his gaze roaming over her body from head to toe, before returning to his food.
“Smells good,” she said, crossing the room and entering the kitchen.
“That it does,” he said, never lifting his gaze from the magazine he was reading. “Tastes even better.”
Holly flashed him a smile and looked at the kitchen cabinets. The smile vanished when she realized there was only one plate. His.
Her lips tightened into a thin line and the look she shot him should have killed him right where he sat. He never moved. Never even acknowledged her as she stood there staring at him. Her blood boiled hot.
She gritted her teeth, stomped to the cabinets, and started opening them.
Finding the assorted boxes of cold cereals, she pulled one from the cabinet and slammed it down on the countertop before searching for a bowl.
She fixed her cold breakfast, a flurry of comments running through her mind like a tape recorder in fast-forward. If she hadn’t thought him irritating before, this certainly qualified him for jerk-off of the year.
Sitting down at the bar, she made a huge production of chewing the hard, crunchy bits of cereal as she stared at him. He never looked up, just continued to eat in silence.
Why would he do that? What reason did he have to only fix one plate of food?
Because he’s an asshole?
