His room is not what I expected. But again. Nothing about him is what I expected. Everything is in perfect order, but I don't know if it's because he hates the mess, or it's the maid that takes care of everything.
He has so much music, vinyl, and old first edition albums that I can't believe I'm even here and I can see them.
"You have a guitar?"
I gasp after I've sat on the bed and see the Fender propped by the wall. "No way. Do you play?"
"Occasionally."
Of course he does.
"Can I see it?"
"Uhh, sure. Yeah."
I get up and my hands go for the guitar directly. It's an awesome original one and I run a hesitant hand over the strings.
"I should've figured you play."
"Yeah, how?"
He snorts and leans back on the bed. Nathan pulls a cigarette out and lights it.
He is so hot
