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Twenty-Six
Wes
It’s amazing how quickly I’ve become completely accustomed to sharing a bed with Devon. I’ve never been an overnight kind of guy, and I definitely never imagined that this thing with Devon would get to the point where I can barely stand to be away from him, but that is exactly what’s happened. Ever since that break we took while he was in Paris, it’s like we just haven’t been able to get enough of each other. Sure, we don’t seem to have any other settings than fighting and fucking, but in some really weird and twisted way that actually works.
I love falling asleep with my arms around him, and I love that every morning we somehow end up in the same position—with me on my back and Devon plastered to my side like a barnacle. Sometimes I’ll ease away from him and let him sleep for a bit while I shower or make breakfast or get some work done, but other mornings—like today—I just enjoy lying here, my hand threading through his hair as he uses my body for a pillow.
I keep telling myself I don’t know what this is, but that’s a lie; I know exactly what it is, I just don’t want to admit it to myself. Especially not today, when I’ll be meeting my sister for lunch in a matter of hours. I have to tell her what’s been happening between Devon and me; Kira agreed not to tell anyone about us, but I know she won’t stay quiet forever, and I don’t want Emma to find out through the grapevine. Besides, Christmas is only a few days away and I want to spend it—or at least part of it—with Devon. That won’t be possible if we don’t come clean to our families.
“Morning,” Devon grumbles in a raspy voice and I glance down to see him blinking up at me with sleepy eyes.
I offer a soft smile. “Morning.”
“What time is it?”
I glance over at the alarm clock by the bed and let out a sigh. “Almost ten. I need to be going soon. I’ve got lunch with Emma today and knowing her she’ll drop in at my place an hour beforehand because she just couldn’t wait to see me,” I say with an eye roll.
Devon lets out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
I drop my hand from his hair, running it in a gentle motion over his shoulder and down his arm. “I want to tell her about us. If you’re okay with that?”
He peels himself away from my side, giving me a brief moment to wonder if I’ve freaked him out. But he’s simply repositioning himself on his front, with his arms propped up on my chest, so our faces are closer. “I’m totally fine with it. Are you sure you’re ready for it?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m ready. It’s not like we can expect Kira to take this to her grave. And to be honest, keeping it a secret just doesn’t seem that feasible anymore. I mean, how are we going to sneak some time in together on Christmas if we have to hide this from our families?”
He arches a curious brow, the corner of his mouth lifting up. “Christmas, huh? Isn’t that something boyfriends usually do?”
“I was thinking more…boyfrienemies.”
He lets out a soft chuckle. “Is that a thing?”
“Of course, it’s a thing!”
“Okay then, what do boyfrienemies do?” he asks with an indulgent smile.
“Well, they have really great sex, and they kiss, and hold hands, and go out. And they don’t do any of that with other people,” I explain. “And they get to insult each other whenever they want, and fight over anything but mainly TV and football, and they steal orange juice and t-shirts from each other…”
Devon grins. “Well, you’re an excellent boyfrienemy, then.”
I shrug. “Well, naturally. You still need to work on the sex part.”
He punches me in the shoulder, prompting me to let out a groan of pain before bursting into laughter. Reaching up, I wrap my hand behind his head and draw him down for a long kiss.
“So…” Devon says once we finally pull away. “Did you want me to come with you to lunch today?”
I let out a soft sigh and shake my head. “Nah., I think I should probably tell her on my own. I don’t want her to feel…outnumbered.”
“Why would she feel that?”
“I don’t know,” I say with a shrug. “It’s just…this whole time, I didn’t really consider Emma to be too big a factor, but what if I was wrong?” I flick at my lip ring with my tongue, suddenly anxious. “What if she thinks I was just…waiting in the wings, or something? Like I just pounced on you the second you guys broke up.”
Devon lets out a soft chuckle, reaching up to run a reassuring hand over my cheek. “She’s not going to think that, trust me.”
“But—”
“Wes, I promise you—Emma and I were over a long time before we actually broke up. To be honest, I’m pretty sure the only reason we didn’t break up sooner was because we’d already agreed to get married and neither of us wanted to back out of that commitment.” His expression turns thoughtful, and he lets out a soft sigh. “I think in the end it was the Paris job that gave Emma the kick up the bum she needed to realise a life with me really wasn’t what she wanted. And for me it was you calling me out on my shit,” he adds with a wry breath of laughter.
My brows shoot up. “Me?”
