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I’ll actually get to see him.
I’ll get to touch him, and hold him, and kiss him.
I’ll get to tell him—
“I was hoping you could come … you know, out to Pennsylvania … to see me.” There is insecurity in his words that softens my heart. I obviously haven’t done a good enough job of convincing him that I really do want us, and everything that goes along with that.
“I’ll be there. I don’t want you to go through that alone.” And he would have to go through it alone. Devin has no one. His father has been absent for longer than I can remember, and he’s an only child.
“You will?” he asks, his voice full of disbelief. “You’re going to fly out there?”
“Yes,” I say. “Of course, I’ll have to rearrange a few things. I’m supposed to work on Saturday and Sund—”
“You don’t have to take off, Katie.”
“Stop it,” I scoff, walking out of my bedroom and into the kitchen. I pull my work schedule out of the drawer to see who’s off that might want to pick up some extra shifts. “I want to take off; it’s just short notice so I’ll have to find my own coverage.”
My mind drifts to all the other things I’ll have to do like book a flight and find a hotel—because I don’t want to be presumptuous and assume that Devin wants me to stay the night with him. And honestly, I don’t even know where Devin will be staying.
“I’m getting a hotel,” he says, catching my attention.
“Huh?”
“You said you don’t know where I’ll be staying.” Shit. Saying stuff out loud is becoming a habit for me. “I’ll be staying at a hotel, and if you come, you’ll stay with me.”
The way he says that, as though I don’t really have a choice, causes my mind to conjure up all of the things I’ll get to do to—I mean with, do with—Devin over the next four days.
“Okay,” I say, cringing when my words come out way too raspy.
“Other than take off work, what else do you have to do?” he asks. “You’ve got someone to help with the farm, right?”
“Yes. I’m not worried about the farm, and other than that, I’ll just have to cancel dinner plans with Wyatt and—”
“Dinner plans with Wyatt?” he i
nterrupts in a tone I haven’t heard in about a decade.
Dropping my work schedule on the table, I stand up straight. Did I hear him right? Is he mad? He can’t be mad; I haven’t even had a chance to tell him why I was having dinner with Wyatt.
“Yessss,” I drawl out. “Wyatt asked me to dinner Friday night, and with everything that’s happened, I felt the least I could do is meet with him.” Plus, it’ll be nice to tell Wyatt about Devin myself before he ends up hearing about it through the grapevine. It sounds asinine, I’m sure, considering that I still haven’t seen Devin. But if he really is coming home on leave in less than two months, and we really do decide to give this a whirl—which we are, otherwise I’m kicking him in the damn balls—then everyone will find out anyway.
The last thing I want is for Wyatt to think I broke things off with him to be with Devin, because that’s far from the truth. Plus, I was hoping Wyatt would be able to get some closure, once and for all.
“So you said yes?”
“Of course I did.” My brows furrow, and I bring my hand to my hip. “He was my best friend for years, Dev. He picked up the pieces that you left behind, and—” Devin sighs and I close my eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad … and I’m sorry, but it’s true. You have to understand that he’s been there for me through everything, and I broke his heart. He needs closure and I owe that to him.”
“Fine.” My blood runs cold at the sound of Devin’s voice. “I understand. Do whatever you’ve got to do.”
“Don’t be like that,” I plead. “The dinner means nothing, and I’m going to cancel it, just like I’m going to find a way to get off work. I promise you, I will try my absolute hardest to make sure I’m there with you the entire time you’re home, okay?”
“Okay.”
What? That’s it?
“Devin, I—”
“Look,” he says curtly, “I’ve gotta go pack. I’ll email you my itinerary. You just let me know if you’re able to rearrange your busy schedule.”
