The look he gave her was shrewd, but he didn’t press. “So where do you live when you’re not on tour?”
“Malibu.” She gave a small shrug. “It’s expensive and hot and I’m not overly fond of it, but that’s where a lot of the work starts out, so that’s where I am. I live with a friend when I’m not on tour.”
“And no boyfriend, right?”
“The last one was enough for me, thanks.” She grimaced.
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not going to leave me hanging at that, are you?”
She sighed, her cheeks flushing at having to go into detail. “It’s a really stupid incident. One I’m not sure you’d be interested in hearing about.”
“Well, now I’m extremely interested.”
Kylie squirmed in her seat. “There’s not too much to tell, really.” God, she’d been so messed up when she was with Jerred. How to make their fucked-up, ugly relationship sound decent? “I had a boyfriend two years ago, and we were pretty serious.” At least, I was, but he mostly just liked fucking. “We spent a lot of time together and we decided that it would be a good time to move in and test the waters.” Jerred thought he would be getting free maid service and a blow job every night if we lived together so he thought it was a good idea. “So I let my apartment go, sold all of my extra stuff, and moved in with him. Unfortunately, I lost my job at a department store as soon as I did. Just bad timing.” She shrugged and stared at her coffee.
Bad timing. More like Jerred was constantly trying to get her to skip work. To be late, because it wasn’t as important as spending time with him. Then, when she lost her job, it was suddenly her fault.
Cade made a noise indicating she should go on.
Right. “About two weeks after I lost my job, he said I wasn’t helping him with the rent.” That she was a burden, but she couldn’t say that word. It stuck in her throat. “We had a pretty big fight. And a week after that, I came home to find that he’d thrown all my stuff to the curb and changed the locks. I couldn’t do anything because I wasn’t on the rental paperwork just yet, so I had to pack up my boxes and figure out what to do with myself.”
Cade’s eyes were wide. “What did you do with yourself?”
“Cried a lot,” Kylie said with a smile.
Cade didn’t laugh.
She shrugged. “It wasn’t so bad. It just . . . taught me a lot about people.” That you could never, ever ever be a burden to someone if you wanted to keep their love. “I spent a few days sleeping under a bridge—”
“Under a bridge?” Cade exploded. “What?”
“And I got back on my feet soon enough. It’s fine,” she soothed. “Like I said, it was a good learning experience.”
“How can you call that a learning experience? He sounds like a nightmare.”
“Looking back, I’m glad things didn’t work out between us. Hence the learning.” Her smile was rueful. “And it taught me something about myself, that there’s nothing I hate worse than being an obligation to someone.”
His jaw set and he looked unhappy. “Is there a remote chance that I’m ever going to meet this man?”
“I doubt it very much.”
“Good,” Cade said. He looked ready to spit nails, which surprised her. They barely knew each other. Why so defensive of her? She . . . didn’t know what to make of it.
An uncomfortable silence fell. “Why don’t we go back to talking about jobs?” Kylie asked. “Please?”
“All right.” He shrugged. “Do you travel a lot?”
“I do. One of the perks, I suppose.”
“Do you enjoy traveling?”
“For the most part, yes. You never stay someplace long enough for it to get old. But sometimes you get tired of hotels.” She shook her head. “And you get really tired of having no roots. Like, I can’t even have a pet because I’m gone so much. My address is basically just a place to send bills.” She gave him a wry look. “You? Where are you from?”
“New York City,” he told her. “It’s expensive, not as hot, and has this strange smell in the summer. But I still like it a lot. There’s always something going on.”
“I like New York,” she said. “Every time I’ve gone through there, it seems like a vibrant place to live.”
The waitress set their plates down and left again. Cade eyed his waffle, and then hers. He lifted up his coffee mug in a toast. “To intestinal fortitude?”