CHAPTER 13
Willow
I wake to Herman breathing loudly in my face.
With a groan, I sink my hands into the St Bernard’s fur and push hard against his chest. Of course, he doesn’t budge. He weighs more than I do, and my strength is no match for the love he has for me.
‘Herman.’ I crack one eye open. ‘Buddy, you’ve gotta move. I love you, I do, but could you give me a little space?’
He huffs, hot and loud, but acquiesces and flops down beside me. I pat his big head and smooth down his ears before rolling to the edge of my bed. I sit there for a bit to make sure I won’t get dizzy, then push myself up to my feet, grateful when my vision doesn’t swim with black dots. According to the clock on the nightstand, it’s a little after seven, though to be honest, I’ve been in so many time zones lately that time in general doesn’t feel real.
My laptop sits open on my bedside table, next to an array of stuffed animals and below a poster of the K-pop group I was obsessed with in high school. The screen is dark, but one tap on the macaron-crumb-covered keyboard would bring up Photoshop and the Word document I brain-dumped a bunch of captions for Dev’s future posts into. I thought they were pretty damn good at three a.m. Let’s see if that remains true in the light of day.
That review can wait until I’m with Dev, and I’m hoping to put that off for . . . as long as I can manage. I came a little too close to making bad decisions yesterday, and I need some distance in order to steel myself against his charm. Sometimes I’m not sure he realizes how flirty he is, no matter who he’s talking to. But other times I think he knows exactly what he’s doing and the effect it has. Especially on me.
But I’ve spent years burying this crush. When I drunkenly confessed my feelings, I didn’t expect anything to come of it; hell, I tried to brush the whole thing off. He’s the one who made the first move. He’s the one who pushed me against the wall and shoved my dress up and let me feel parts of him I never thought I would.
But I didn’t say no. I didn’t put a stop to it until he pulled away. Even then, I didn’t want it to end, but fear kicked in, and I bolted down seven flights of stairs like an Olympic sprinter.
Some days I wish I hadn’t run. I wish I had stayed with my back against the wall and my legs wrapped around Dev’s waist. Who knows what would have come of it, but at least we wouldn’t be stuck in this strange holding pattern of lingering attraction we can’t act on. I’d give anything to go back to the way it was before I ruined it all.
It’s too late now, though. That’s for sure.
I groan as I lower myself onto the yoga mat under my window, needing to stretch and do a few strength exercises before I start my day. My lower back is achy from yesterday’s flight, and it’ll only get worse with all the travel ahead. I refuse to complain, though. I want this job, this place with Dev and his team, and I’ll do everything I can to keep the pain from slowing me down.
Herman watches me from his place on the bed, only lifting his head when my phone buzzes on the nightstand. He looks from it to me like he’s telling me to get my ass up and grab it.
‘You could bring it to me,’ I suggest, but all he does is grunt and put his head back down.
I haul myself up and pad over to grab the phone, my heart giving a funny thump when a text lights up the screen.
Dev:My mom wants you to come over for breakfast
So much for avoiding him.
——
The scent of masala chai embraces me as I step through the Andersons’ unlocked door – I can’t remember the last time I knocked – and kick off my shoes, calling out for Dev.
‘Willow!’ His mother is the one who replies, her lilting voice guiding me toward the living room. ‘Come here! I want to show you embarrassing photos of Dev.’
‘Ma,’ Dev complains as I make my way in. He’s sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table where his mom has a collection of photos spread out. ‘She knew me as a kid. She’s witnessed all of my embarrassing moments.’
‘Not all of them.’ She waves me over, smiling widely at me with the grin her son inherited.
Her skin is a few shades darker than his, and her black bob is streaked with grey, but the resemblance is strong. There’s no doubt Dev’s good looks come from her. ‘I need your help. I’m getting photos together for the wedding slideshow.’
‘How embarrassing are we talking?’ I ask, settling on the floor next to Dev and scanning the photos in front of me. I do my best to ignore his eyes on me. ‘I could use some blackmail material.’
Dev glowers as Neha laughs and hands me one of baby Dev splashing in the bath, a rubber duckie sitting on top of his head. ‘How’s that?’ she asks.
I’m already pulling out my phone so I can snap a picture of it. ‘Better than I could have asked for.’
Dev throws his hands up but seems to know better than to interfere.
I spend the next twenty minutes helping his mother pick out photos of Dev and Alisha as kids before she claps her hands and ushers me off into the kitchen. A glass of chai, a plate of khaman dhokla with several chutneys on the side and an omelette are set in front of me soon after. She watches me like a hawk as I eat every bite.
‘So,’ she prompts once I’m stuffed to bursting. ‘You’re working for Dev, yes?’
I scrutinize him from across the table. He’s swiping his finger through the last bit of coriander chutney on his plate. When he puts it in his mouth, I have to look away. My mind has no business going to the dangerous places a sight like that would instantly take me while his mom is staring me down.
‘That’s right,’ I answer, holding my warm chai glass to my chest. ‘He thinks I can revive his social media accounts, and I’m crazy enough to try.’
She hums contentedly, head bobbing. ‘Good for you. He needs a lot of help to fix his terrible reputation.’ At that, she shoots her son a disapproving look, but it disappears once she looks at me again. ‘Besides, I always thought you two made a good pair.’
If I’d been in the middle of sipping my tea when she uttered those words, I have no doubt I’d be choking on it right now. Dev isn’t so lucky, though. He coughs and thumps his chest with a fist, then turns to his mother and says something sharply in Gujarati that I can only dream of understanding. Despite his tone, she tosses her head back and laughs in reply. Dev’s narrowed eyes tell me that wasn’t the reaction he was going for.
He pushes back from the table, a muscle in his jaw ticking. ‘Willow, wanna show me what you’ve done so far?’
He’s clearly eager to get away from his mom and this conversation. And . . . is he blushing?
I nod after a beat of hesitation, setting my glass back down. ‘Everything’s on my laptop. I didn’t think to bring it.’
‘It’s fine,’ he says, already at the doorway. ‘I’ll just go over to yours. Come on.’
Well, I guess that’s that. Flashing a smile at his mom, I stand and thank her for breakfast.
‘See you later, Willow,’ she says warmly, catching and squeezing my hand before I can walk away. ‘Come back for dinner. I’m sure Dev would love that.’
I let out an uneasy laugh as I squeeze her hand in return, then head out to find Dev. He’s standing by the front door, tapping his thumb against the side of his phone impatiently. When he spots me, he hauls the door open. I slip my feet back into my shoes quickly, and then he’s ushering me out. I’m tempted to ask what’s up with him, but the way he avoids my gaze has me holding back.
‘I’m leaving for Dallas tomorrow,’ he announces as we cross our shared driveway. ‘I need to get some time on the simulator at headquarters.’
My stomach drops. He insisted that I fly all the way home, and now he’s abandoning me? ‘Oh. I thought we’d be here until we headed to Canada.’
‘You can say you’re gonna miss me, Willow. It’s okay.’
I almost scowl, but then I catch sight of his grin, so I elbow him in the ribs instead. ‘Shut up.’ But I guess this means he’s over the little fit that talking to his mom sent him into. ‘I just thought you wanted to do more content creation together. Kind of seems like a wasted trip.’
‘Sorry.’ He doesn’t sound sorry at all. ‘I didn’t know the team wanted me back there until last night.’ His easy tone turns bitter in an instant. ‘Guess they’re worried about how I’m going to perform, even though Nathaniel’s the one who crashed out the past two times we were there, not me.’
I observe him, taking in the tension around his eyes. ‘I’m getting the sense that you two aren’t besties.’
Dev snorts as we step up to my front door. ‘You could say that.’
When he doesn’t elaborate, I cross the threshold into my house and wave to my dad in his home office off the foyer. The lanky man is hunched over in his ergonomic chair with four computer screens in front of him. Before Oakley started racing, Dad was a software engineer, and now that he’s no longer managing my brother’s career, he’s gone back to his roots. Mom is a top cardiothoracic surgeon, so there’s really no reason for him to work, but I think he does it just to keep himself occupied. I know he misses Oakley’s racing days.
Dad returns our greeting with an enthusiastic wave of his own but is quickly distracted by something on one of his screens. I smile to myself as he turns away, then I head upstairs with Dev following close behind me.
‘So, we’ll meet up in Montreal?’ I ask him when we reach the top landing. I’m disappointed that we’ll be apart for nearly a week, but at least we have this time together. For business, of course.
‘If that’s okay,’ he answers.
I nod and push into my bedroom. ‘Yeah, it’s fine. I have enough content for daily posts and stories until we’re together again. But if you wouldn’t mind snapping a few pictures while you’re gone, I’d be grateful.’
‘Anything for you.’
It takes a second, but then the words and their potential meaning hit me square in the chest. As I turn to him, Dev seems to have the same realization about what he’s said, because he quickly follows it up with, ‘I mean anything you need for the job.’
After his slip-up yesterday and whatever he said to his mother this morning, I don’t quite buy it. But I force myself to, because the alternative is having another discussion about why we need to keep things appropriate.
‘Thanks,’ I say, flashing him a tight smile. I shuffle over to grab my laptop from my bedside table, then bring it to my desk and open it. ‘Give me a second to pull everything up.’
Dev grunts his assent, and I swipe through the photos, bringing up the ones I want to show him. I edited everything into black and white, except for the last photo I’ll include in the carousel. It’s Dev with his surfboard under his arm. He’s walking away, but he’s turned enough that his trademark grin is on full display. It’s a little crooked, and he’s squinting against the sun, but he looks . . . happy. It’s the Dev I’ve known my whole life.
The Dev I want the whole world to know.
‘Oh my god. You still have this?’ he asks from behind me with a laugh.
I freeze, still examining the photo, because who knows what he’s found. This room is full of relics from my childhood. When I turn, he’s holding up the small plush elephant I’ve had on my bedside table for more years than I can count. Ellie has been in residence in this space for so long that I barely remember she’s here any more. But suddenly, I’m very much aware of her again.
All because she was a gift from Dev a long time ago.
He won her for me at the county fair. Our parents had tasked him and Oakley with watching me that day, and when I laid eyes on the display of stuffed elephants at one of the game stalls, I couldn’t be dragged away. While Oakley threatened to get Mom when I wouldn’t comply, Dev shrugged and said he’d win one for me if I wanted it so badly. And so, he did.
Even at twelve years old, he had better hand–eye coordination than most adults, and less than five minutes later, the woman running the stall handed over the toy. Dev held the elephant for a moment, savouring his win, then he handed it over to me. If I had to pinpoint when I fell in love with him, that might be it.
Gasping, I surge up from my chair and then rush toward him. ‘Put her down!’
Dev holds Ellie above my head and gazes up at her. ‘I can’t believe you kept this thing.’
‘Of course I kept her.’ I scowl, reaching for the toy, but he keeps her just out of reach. ‘Ellie’s too cute to get rid of.’
‘Ellie?’ he repeats, still laughing. ‘Ellie the elephant?’
‘I was nine, Dev. Children aren’t exactly known for giving things the most creative names. Now give her back.’
I jump for her, pressed up against him in order to give myself a better chance, but Dev whips an arm around my waist and sweeps me off my feet. Then he unceremoniously drops me on my bed. It’s not pretty, but he’s gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt anything other than my ego.
Still, it leaves me spluttering in offence. ‘Oh, you asshole!’ But holy shit, that move has set something ablaze inside me.
He stares fondly at Ellie, paying me no mind. ‘You really have been obsessed with me for ever.’
I’m so stunned that he’s throwing that in my face right now that I’m pretty sure my jaw is hanging open. Never have I wished more that I hadn’t let the tequila loosen my lips that night. Maybe we do need to have another conversation about this, because I’ll die of embarrassment before we can even begin to fix his reputation if he keeps this up.
But just as I’m about to scold him, Dev says, ‘Good thing it’s mutual.’
Somehow, that’s worse than anything else he could have finished with.
I’m still lost for words, splayed across my bed, when he lovingly sets Ellie down and strides over to my desk like he hasn’t just said something to wreck my whole world.
A minute ago, he was trying to course correct, trying to keep me from reading into his words, and now he’s . . . uttering things like that. One old stuffed animal, and everything has shifted.
‘You wanna show me these pictures now?’ he asks, far more casual than I could dream of being.
Another beat passes before I can peel myself off the duvet. If that’s all it takes for Dev to throw me off my axis, I’m in for a world of trouble.
‘Sure.’ My voice trembles, and I clear my throat to keep it at bay.
I scramble up and make my way over to him. He moves aside, and I slip into my chair. I slowly page through the photos, holding my breath when he braces one hand on the edge of the desk and leans closer. His cologne and the lingering spices from the breakfast his mother cooked swirl around me. It both comforts me and has my heart hammering against my ribs, and when his chest brushes my shoulder, I swear I’m about to combust.
Finally, he nods in approval and shifts back some, though not enough for me to feel like I’m not still surrounded by him. I hold up a finger to signal that I have more to show him and pull up the Word document with the caption I wrote for the post.
In my periphery, he scans the text. Honestly, it’s more of a twenty-two-hundred-character essay than a caption, one that outlines why he disappeared – how he made a mistake and hurt someone who then wronged him in return – what’s been going on in his life (making sure to sing the praises of Argonaut) and wrapping it up with a few optimistic lines about starting fresh and reintroducing himself to the world. I like to think it comes across as organic and heartfelt, but not too mushy. Like it could have come from Dev himself.
He drops his hands from my desk when he’s finished and backs away, prompting me to swivel in my chair. Anxiety surges through my veins at the idea that he might not like the words I chose. I don’t mind starting over, and his feedback will make a second draft stronger, but—
‘This is perfect.’
The fear floods away, leaving me to exhale a surprised laugh. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, really,’ he affirms, dropping to the edge of my bed. His legs are spread wide as he puts his elbows on his strong thighs and leans forward, his focus never straying from me. There’s no smile on his face. No humour. He’s serious about how good this is. ‘I love it. I should have gotten you on this sooner.’
I suppress my delight, but it warms me from the inside out anyway. ‘English degree coming in clutch,’ I joke. It doesn’t crack him, though, so I clear my throat again. ‘You ready to get this out?’
He nods. ‘Let’s do it.’
With a few clicks and highlights and last-second edits, everything is copied, pasted, and uploaded to the pertinent places. All I have to do now is click post.
‘Here,’ I blurt, picking up my laptop and shoving it at Dev. ‘You do the honours. It’s your reputation.’
But he pushes it back to me. ‘You’re the one who did all the work. You do it.’
I slide the computer back into my lap, frowning at him. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Like I said before – I trust you.’
Okay. Fine. My heart may still be stutter-stepping, but here we go.
Shockingly, my hand doesn’t shake as I navigate the cursor over the icon and peer up at him one last time. When our eyes meet, some of the lingering worry disappears. He wants this. I want this. And we’re dedicated to fixing this. Together.
I click.