“How long have you lived here?” I asked.
“Three years,” he replied.
My gaze swept over his as I searched for anything personal. I guessed the instruments counted, but there was nothing else. We were standing in a sea of white, gray, and a speck of black. “Wow. It looks like you just moved in.”
His mouth twitched. “I don’t spend a lot of time here. Things aren’t important to me and neither are homes. It’s a place to sleep.”
“Says the rich musician,” I murmured. When his eyebrows raised, crinkling his forehead, my hands shot to my mouth to cover it. I was supposed to be here to confess my sins, not insult my victim.
He bowed his head and released a low chuckle. “You aren’t wrong.” His phone chimed from inside his pocket. He took it out and tapped a hurried message. “Our dinner’s here. I hope you like Thai.”
“I—I do.” I was supposed to be coming clean, not actually eating dinner. What was I doing? My palms were itchy and sweaty. My mouth was so dry, my tongue kept sticking to the roof.
“Good. I don’t like anyone comin’ up here, so I’m goin’ to the lobby to get it.” He touched my hair. He was always touching my hair. “Stay here. Snoop around if you want. When you’re done, please feel free to find what you’d like to drink in the kitchen.”
My giggle came out choked. If I sounded nervous or suspicious, he didn’t react, leaving me in his apartment. For someone who grew up with criminals, he was far too trusting. I mean, I could have stolen his underwear and sold it to his crazed fans for a mint…if I were that type. Which I wasn’t.
My thirst overpowered my need to snoop, so I headed to the kitchen. It was more of the same in this room: cream, gray, black, with a dash of stainless steel in the mix. The cups were easy to find since the cabinets had glass fronts. I filled it up at the sink and drained it quickly.
The sole splash of color in the whole apartment caught my eye. A tiny potted plant sat in the corner of the icy white marble countertop. I recognized the painted pot immediately and cradled it in my hand.
“You didn’t throw it away,” I whispered.
Callum had taken Adam’s plant home with him. My heart tripped over itself, and I sighed. Of course he had done something sweet and adorable. That only knotted my stomach up tighter.
A small piece of folded paper fluttered to the ground after it became unstuck from the pot. Stooping down, I picked it up and placed it on the counter. Then I read my name written in messy scrawl on the outside.
Callum had left me a note?
I exchanged the plant for the paper and unfolded it before I could overthink what might be inside.
All the breath left my lungs, his words punching through my chest.
Little Bird,
Don’t shrink. I know.
Callum