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Ihope not.Becausewe haven’t had a conversation about what this means.Forus, for our friendship, for his concerns aboutBeau.
Willhe go back to pushing me away tomorrow?Afterall,I’monly here for a few months, andDevonhasn’t exactly indicated that he’s looking for a relationship.
Ishiver as my skin cools.Imay have gotten myself in too deep here.
Still,Ican’t help but crave his touch, and when he cups my cheeks and presses his lips to mine once more,Ilet the worry go.Atleast for now.Becausehe’s hardening inside me again, and my hips are rocking against him, andIjust want to experience more.
I’llworry about the consequences tomorrow.
ChapterNineteen
Devon
Iwakeon my stomach and immediately stretch my arm out, expecting the warmth ofShae’sbody, but it’s cool sheetsItouch.She’sgone.
Iroll over and throw my arm over my eyes.Ididn’t just fuckShaeonce last night,Ifucked her four times.Twicedownstairs on the table—better clean that beforeBeaueats there next—once in the shower, and then the last time in my bed.
Everytime was better than the one before.Thelast time, here, with her on top of me, was like something out of a fucking dream.Herlong, dark hair falling over her breasts, her golden-brown eyes fixed on mine while her lips parted to let out her gasps and whimpers, her hips undulating as she rode me.
Jesus,I’mhard again.
Igrip myself, squeezing in hopes of controlling my urge to track her down and take her again.ThenIfreeze as the sound ofBeau’slaugh carries through my closed door.He’sback.Probablytalking toShaein the kitchen.Fuck.Itwas reckless not to at least set an alarm to make sure she wasn’t in my bed when he got back.Eithershe woke up early and went back to her bedroom, orBeau’sreturn woke her, and she managed to sneak out without him noticing.Regardless,Ineed to get her alone so we can have a conversation about last night and what it means.Andremind her not to say anything toBeau.
BecauseIdon’t want this thing betweenShaeand me to end; not until it’s run its natural course anyway.Which, unfortunately, means lying toBeaufor a little longer.
Ifling the sheets off and go to the bathroom to take a piss because my bladder is screaming at me.AsI’mwashing my hands,Iglimpse my reflection and freeze.Fora moment, it isn’t my face looking back at me, it’s my mom’s.Igrip the edge of the countertop as a memory overwhelms me.
I’msix years old and standing in our small bathroom, looking up atMomas she stares into the mirror and puts her makeup on.
“Idon’t feel good,Mom,”Iwhine, rubbing my stomach.
Herblue eyes, the same color as mine, meet my gaze in the mirror. “Ithink you just don’t want me to go out tonight.”
“Ireally do feel sick.”Ikeep trying, even though she’s right.Idon’t want her to leave me all alone again.
Ihate being alone.
Whenshe first started going out with her boyfriends and leaving me on my own,Itold her the truth, thatIdidn’t like it and didn’t want her to go.Butit didn’t make any difference.Sothe next time,Ilied and pretended to get sick.Shestayed, andIwas so happy.Itried it again the next time.Butshe knew, and she’d gotten angry at me.
NowIonly try lying whenIreally, really want something.Andtonight,Ireally, really don’t wantMomto go.
Mom’slips pinch together, and her smooth forehead creases. “Don’tbe so selfish,Devon.Mommy’sa grown up.AndIneed time with other grown ups.I’llput you to bed beforeIgo, and you’ll go right to sleep.”
“Canyou come home early?”Iask.
Sheshrugs and goes back to painting her face. “We’llsee.”
“Mom…”
“Devon,” she snaps, the reflection of her eyes in the mirror piercing into me. “Noteverything is about whatyouwant.”
Iblink, and the face looking back at me is mine again.Ilet out a breath.MaybeIamas selfish as my mom always told meIwas.NowI’mlying to my cousin to get whatIwant—for the second time.ButIdon’t want to giveShaeup.Ijust need to handle this situation without blowing everything up—my relationships withShaeand withBeau.Potentiallymy band.Idon’t want to lose any of them.
Iturn my back on the mirror and head into the bedroom to pull on a pair of sweatpants before joiningShaeandBeauin the kitchen.AsIround the corner, my attention is drawn to her immediately.She’ssitting on one of the stools at our breakfast bar.Maybeshe heard me coming, or maybe she sensed my presence, because she’s already turned toward me.Withthose beautiful eyes on me,I’mimmediately thrown back to last night.Mycock twitches, andItear my gaze away, looking atBeau, wondering ifI’llsee the knowledge of whatShaeandIdid written on his face.
Butthere’s no suspicion there.Noanger.Hejust looks a little hungover, and yeah, there’s a healthy dose of satisfaction there too.Doesmy face look the same?
Isay good morning in as normal a tone asIcan, then turn to the fridge for the carton of orange juice.
