“No. I cut him off at two so I can get some sleep. He usually listens.”
“You’re being nice,” she said. “I know he’s a nightmare to room with. I’ve been there.”
A nightmare wasn’t exactly how he’d label it. Hunter couldn’t imagine college without Dev across the room from him. That worn-out, cramped space at the top of the frat house felt more like home than anything else had in his life. But of course he couldn’t say all that. “He’s better than my last roommate. That one was messy as hell and farted in his sleep.”
“Oh, nice,” Devon said, throwing him a look. “I’m a step above Pigpen the Farter. I’m honored.”
“Don’t get your feelings hurt. You know I like you best, pumpkin,” he said, trying to inject the normal ease they had between them, trying to show Devon all was A-OK.
Oakley looked between the two of them, her smile sinking at the edges and her brow wrinkling. “Wait, are you two dating?”
Hunter stiffened.
Devon’s gaze met Hunter’s briefly, but then he just rolled his eyes. “Right. Like I would’ve kept it from you that I was dating a hot baseball player. Come on, Oak. Give me some credit.”
Her focus flicked to Hunter, confusion still there.
Hunter shrugged, the move feeling tight. “I’m not his type.”
“Yeah,” Devon agreed, gaze locked with his. “Straight.”
“Oh.” Oakley laughed, though it sounded a little forced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
Hunter lifted a hand. “It’s fine.”
Oakley changed the subject quickly, obviously thinking she’d offended him, and they all hung out for another hour. But Hunter was too caught up in his own thoughts to pay much attention. By the time they said good-bye to head over to the hotel room the record company had booked for Devon, Hunter felt like his brain had been put through a meat grinder.
Devon climbed into the limo first, and Hunter tried to ignore the little flare of awareness at the sight of Devon bending over, his T-shirt riding up and exposing the low rise of his jeans. What the fuck? Now he was checking out his best friend’s ass? He scrubbed a hand over his face.
Hunter climbed in, and Devon laid his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. “What. A. Night.”
“Yeah.” Hunter shifted in his seat, unable to resist the chance to look at Devon unobserved, to poke and prod at these new, unfamiliar feelings. Dev’s purple streaks were fading, leaving just the rich brown color beneath, and he had glitter streaked across his cheek from where his sister’s makeup had rubbed off on him during their final hug. All of it should have made him look feminine—other. But Devon was all man. Tall, well built, strong jawed. Any attraction Hunter felt toward him couldn’t be explained away by labeling Dev as anything female-like. The person he’d kissed had been one hundred percent dude.
And the way Devon had been with his sister—protective, in charge, solid. It’d made Hunter realize the depth of maturity that underpinned Devon’s seemingly devil-may-care attitude. The guy was a rock. A good man who’d been through a lot and had come out on the other side of it. A guy Hunter would want in the foxhole with him.
Or maybe other places.
Devon lifted his lids, sending Hunter a wary gaze. “You sobered up yet?”
“I’m good.” He rolled his neck, trying to fight the tension there. “Your sister seems like a sweet kid.”
“Mmm,” he said with a nod. “She’s the best. But I worry about her. She’s still so young. I’m not sure the payoff is worth the stress she has to go through. Sometimes I wish I could just pull her away from it all, move her in with me, and let her have a normal life.”
“Why don’t you?”
He fished out two bottles of water from the chiller and tossed one Hunter’s way. “Because I’m not her dad. And music is her passion. Who am I to tell her not to chase her dream? Plus, it’s not like I have the money to support her yet. My family can’t afford to help and wouldn’t anyway unless she moved home and cut off contact with me. If she stops the music, the money goes away.”
Hunter frowned. “That sucks. I know what that feels like.”
Devon lifted a brow. “You’re loaded. How do you know what that feels like?”
“None of the money’s mine. If I make one wrong move, my dad will cut me off. He uses that money like a weapon. He threatened to do it when I told him I was coming to California for college instead of going to his alma mater. If not for the excuse of the baseball team being one of the best, he would’ve played that inheritance card. That’s why I’m hoping to get into the majors. I want to make my own money so that I don’t have to play his game when I get back home. I can just tell him to go fuck himself.”
Devon took a long sip from his water, never taking his eyes off him. “What are you like at home?”
He shrugged. “Quiet. Keep my opinions to myself. Grin and bear it. Political Son 101.”
Dev shook his head. “I can’t even imagine that version of you.”