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And in this moment, it feels as if Devlyn has always thought of me as more than a friend. Whether he wants to admit it or not.
“They’re beautiful,” I say after a long pause.
His breath wafts my hair and I close my eyes. “Couldn’t agree more.”
When it comes to this man, this beautifully broken, soft-spoken, timid man… I am screwed. No matter where we go from here, no matter if we remain friends or take the next step, I am, without a doubt, screwed. After all I have seen tonight, my heart no longer wants to fight what it feels. The only problem with that… Devlyn might not be ready to reciprocate. His walls may be slowly crumbling, but I doubt they will ever fully fall. Not anytime soon.
Devlyn may not be ready to confess his heart, but I am willing to push his boundaries. Willing to cross the line with him. For him. No matter the outcome, at least he will know where I stand.
Best buckle up and enjoy the journey. While it lasts.
FOURTEEN
DEVLYN
I must be havingan out-of-body experience. It’s the only logical explanation as to why I have practically erased the line between me and Shelly.
As often as I tell myself we are just friends, that we willonlybe friends, my actions and thoughts and feelings toward Shelly supersede that of a friend. I am a walking contradiction. Saying and doing things more like a lover than a friend. The subtle touches that come off as normal, but are far from it. The whispered words close to her ear as I inhale her intoxicating scent. The constant need to be closer to her, to feel her warmth and weight.
Worst of all, I don’t stop myself.
I no longerwantto stop myself.
“Am I underdressed?” Shelly asks as we pull up to the restaurant.
I stare out the windshield at the glass-front brick structure. The restaurant gives off fine dining vibes, but is quite casual. Online reviews raved over the food, atmosphere, and service. I studied the menu long enough to learn it had decent variety. So I set a reservation.
“You look great. The website didn’t mention dress, so I wouldn’t worry.”
She laughs under her breath. “Easy for you.”
And I wonder what she means. Why would it be easy for me and not her? If anything, Shelly outshines everyone. Me? I’m the scrawny, quirky guy at her side. The person everyone will look past to glimpse her.
I park the car then jog to the passenger door to help her out. Not that she needs help. Shelly is a strong woman. Capable of standing tall on her own.
But having her at my side and on my arm tonight was a new, unfamiliar high. Something I never expected. Something I want more of. Her warm hand wrapped around my bicep, her eyes on my art. Nothing has ever felt so right and perfect and exhilarating.
Am I walking a dangerous line? Yes. I have never been on a slope this slippery. Do I care? At the moment, no. I’d tread the steepest incline for her.
When was the last time I felt a connection like this? When was the last time someonewantedme? It had been too long. Scary as it is, I crave Shelly. More than my next breath.
Instead of fearing what may happen, I offer my arm once more. Lock onto my favorite constellation and wait for her acceptance. And she does not disappoint. I don’t think it’s possible for Shelly to ever disappoint. At least not me. She hooks her arm with mine, wraps her dainty fingers near my elbow, the digits giving a gentle squeeze. I live for that squeeze. For any near or intentional touch she bestows. Each has my breath more erratic. Each little reassurance says she enjoys being on my arm.
I am so fucked.Weare so fucked. In the best way.
We step into the restaurant and I give the hostess my name. She escorts us through the restaurant, toward a table in the back near another set of large windows that looks out onto the Gulf. Shelly takes her seat, then I take mine across from her. As much as I would love to sit closer, to be within easy reach of her hand or knee, I love this unobstructed view. To see half her face aglow from the setting sun and the other half from a candle at the heart of the table.
There are a million and one ways to take in Shelly. To catalog her features in a new light. To discover a new angle of her delicate profile. A new light to absorb the beauty of this woman. Taking the time to learn them all has my body abuzz. Shoots thrill through my limbs and to the center of my chest.
I want to view all million and one.
“Devlyn.” My name is soft and worrisome on her tongue. I snap out of my Shelly-induced daydream, lower my menu and lock onto her wide eyes. She curves the menu to the side of her face to shield our conversation from other tables. The gesture is cute. “Did you look at the prices on the menu?”
I give her a half smile. “Didn’t cross my mind.”
Her eyes go impossibly wider. “You may want to.”
To appease her, I stare down at the menu. See a thirty-dollar chicken dish and don’t think twice. Not that I eat at places with price points like this on the regular, but it wouldn’t be the first time. Not with all the fancy dinners and fundraiser events I attended with my parents as a child.
