CHAPTER 31
Willow
Oakley knows.
I can tell by the look in his eyes. My lipstick may not be smudged, but there’s still no denying it like we did nearly a year ago. We’ve been caught.
‘What the fuck is this?’
It’s only then that Dev’s hands slip from my face. But, to my absolute surprise, he curls his fingers around mine at my side. We’re doing this, then. It’s not how I envisioned us breaking the news, but we’re caught. No sense in lying when Oakley knows exactly what he was looking at, despite the question.
God, I think I’m going to be sick.
‘Well, Oak,’ Dev says after a long inhale. ‘I was about to kiss your sister.’
I wince. My brother isn’t going to take that answer well at all. The journey of emotions that cross his face, starting with disgust and morphing into surprise, then grim anger, confirms that suspicion.
‘You fucking asshole,’ he hisses, stalking forward, though he’s forced to stop when I step between the two of them and hold an arm out. ‘I should have known something was going on.’
‘Oakley, please,’ I blurt, but I already know he can’t hear me over his own screaming thoughts. ‘Let’s just—’
‘And this.’ He waves a hand, motioning wildly between Dev and me. ‘This clearly isn’t new.’
From one glance, he’s got us all figured out. He knows us both so well – too well – that our connection is obvious to him. I might have appreciated that under different circumstances, but right now, his words are like a dagger to my heart.
As I struggle to explain, Dev cuts in.
‘You’re right,’ he says easily. ‘It’s not new. Not really.’
All I can do is shoot him a pleading look over my shoulder as my brother gapes at him. Oakley probably expected denial and guilty glances, but Dev is facing this head-on, even if I want to cower.
‘How long?’ my brother finally grits out. ‘How long has this been going on?’
I open my mouth, ready to answer this time, but Dev squeezes my hand, as if to say he’s got this.
‘Well, Willow has had a thing for me for most of her life,’ he replies, keeping his voice low and even. ‘And I’ve been obsessed with her since your birthday weekend last year when she accidentally confessed her crush. But it is new in the sense that we’ve only just acted on our feelings in the past couple of weeks.’
‘Weeks,’ Oakley repeats, his focus finally drifting down to me, his eyes hardening. ‘Since you started working for him?’
My throat tightens, and tears burn the corners of my eyes. ‘No,’ I say, the word wavering as I shake my head. ‘No, not that long.’ It’s the truth, but if Dev is going to be brave and tell the entire story, then I owe it to them both to do the same. ‘We kept it professional – friendly – for a while. But I didn’t want to ignore what was between us any longer.’
‘We didn’t want to ignore it,’ Dev corrects, squeezing my hand a little tighter, letting his strength flow into me. ‘We realized we wanted to be together.’
Oakley’s throat works as he swallows, his eyes still narrowed and bouncing from me to Dev and back again. I can’t blame him for being shocked and upset, and my heart aches that it came out this way.
‘So if I hadn’t let you work for him,’ he rasps, focused on me again, wearing that look of crushing betrayal, ‘this wouldn’t have happened.’
I want to deny it, but he’s right. Without Dev’s idea and Oakley’s approval, we wouldn’t have grown closer. It was the perfect set-up. And my brother had no idea what he was signing off on.
‘Jesus Christ,’ he says when I don’t answer, a maniacal note in his voice as he shakes his head. ‘I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you’d – that you’d lie to me like this.’ His eyes snap up to Dev. ‘Either of you.’
My heart pounds, and then suddenly stops. It restarts with a hard, dramatic thump as I take in his accusation. He’s mad about us . . . lying?
‘This whole time, you kept it from me,’ he goes on. ‘There were so many chances for you to tell me, but instead, you lied. Do you understand how fucked up that is?’
I peek back at Dev, who’s staring at Oakley like he’s still trying to wrap his head around what he’s saying.
‘I’m . . . sorry?’ Dev stammers, faltering for the first time since my brother stepped out of the bathroom.
Oakley rolls his eyes and scrubs a hand down his face. ‘It doesn’t matter that you’re together,’ he urges. ‘You’re an adult and so is she. I don’t run your fucking lives. But it matters that you lied to me.’
Oh god. We’ve gotten this all wrong. We were so worried about whether Oakley would approve that we forgot to consider how he’d feel when he found out we were keeping it from him in the first place.
‘We weren’t sure how you would react,’ Dev says, his voice low and gentle again. ‘You literally told me to never try it with her. When the whole Jeremy thing happened—’
‘Jeremy was a pathetic excuse for a man that we should have cut off years before we did,’ Oakley spits. ‘Don’t use him to justify your bullshit. He had it coming for what he did to her.’
‘Okay,’ Dev concedes, lifting his free hand. ‘But you know you wouldn’t have approved of anything happening between Willow and me. You can’t just write that off.’
Oakley works his jaw from side to side, his teeth grinding like he’s holding back his anger until he can express it more clearly. ‘Fine,’ he admits. ‘I don’t like the idea of you together. At all. I don’t like the idea of another one of my friends dating my sister.’
Behind me, I can feel Dev gearing up to defend what we’ve done, his chest swelling as he takes a breath. But before he can speak, Oakley pushes on.
‘How I feel doesn’t matter, though. Because that’s my problem. Not yours. So stop tap dancing around me like I’m an idiot who can’t handle being uncomfortable and just stop lying.’
We really did get this wrong, and I don’t know how we didn’t see it before.
‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper, reaching out with my free hand to touch his arm. Thankfully, he doesn’t immediately shrug it off. ‘I didn’t—’
‘If you had just told me,’ he barrels through my apology, ‘I probably would have been surprised, yeah. And definitely not happy. But I would have gotten over it a lot faster than I’m going to get over this.’
Oakley pulls in a deep breath, inspecting us both. Some of the anger that’s got him wound tight ebbs, but it’s replaced by a hurt expression that makes me feel even sicker.
‘Look,’ he says quietly, addressing Dev. ‘I’ll always be protective of Willow. But I also want her to be happy. And you’re supposedly my best friend. I want you to be happy too.’
‘Even if the two of us are happy because we’re together?’ Dev hedges.
I can only hope we’re finally starting to make progress here.
‘Are you serious about her?’ Oakley demands in reply.
There’s no hesitation when Dev answers. ‘I am.’
My brother’s eyes snap back to mine. ‘And you actually want to be with him?’
‘Yeah,’ I say, my throat somehow even tighter. ‘I really do.’
Oakley draws in a deep breath and nods sharply. With a quick step back, he holds both palms out. ‘Then fine. Fine. I just have to accept it. It’s my thing to get over.’
I almost collapse in relief. My knees go weak, and I have to slump against Dev to keep myself upright. It doesn’t escape Oakley’s notice, and the set to his jaw hardens.
‘But if you hurt her,’ he warns Dev, ‘I’ll break both of your hands so you never drive again.’
Dev nods solemnly, clearly not doubting the threat. ‘Understood. No plans for that to happen, though.’
‘And you,’ he barks at me, eyes narrowed. ‘If you hurt him—’
‘I won’t,’ I interrupt before he can finish the threat. ‘I promise, I won’t.’
Oakley stares at us both for a few long seconds, leaving my stomach to churn with anxiety. But then he abruptly slaps Dev upside the head and socks me in the shoulder, though not hard enough to hurt me.
‘Man, fuck you both,’ he groans.
And then he pulls us in for a hug.
‘You’re shitty people,’ he mumbles against the top of my head, clutching me to his chest while he has Dev in a headlock. ‘I hope you’re happy together, you absolute losers.’
That shocks a laugh out of me, and the tears I’ve been holding back finally pour over. ‘We are.’
‘Good. Someone better be, because I sure as shit am not.’ With one last squeeze, he shoves us away.
‘I’m not over this,’ he says, pointing at Dev and then me. ‘But since we’re here to celebrate love today, I’ll suck it up. All right?’
‘Got it,’ I squeak. ‘Thank you, Oak.’
With that, he rolls his eyes and stalks off.
It’s a few long seconds before I finally work up the nerve to turn to look at Dev, blinking in shock.
‘Did that . . .’ I trail off. ‘Did that really just happen?’
Dev wets his lips, fighting for his voice. ‘I think it did.’
‘He knows. He knows, and he didn’t kill us.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘We’re no longer a secret.’
‘We’re not,’ he agrees with a hint of disbelief. ‘No more hiding from him.’
‘No more hiding,’ I repeat, dabbing under my eyes to wipe away the slowing tears. My make-up is certainly ruined by now, but I can’t bring myself to care. ‘I can’t believe it.’
Dev huffs out a laugh. ‘Yeah. Neither can I. But I’ll take it.’
He slings an arm around my shoulders and tugs me into him. I go willingly, sliding my arms around his waist as I lean against his solid chest. It feels like we’ve survived a battle.
‘I don’t want to go back out there,’ I mumble against the purple silk of his kurta. ‘Not after that. I need to take some time to just . . . breathe.’
‘We don’t have to go back to the party,’ he says. ‘But there is somewhere else I want to take you.’
He pulls back, lacing our fingers together once again as he leads me down the hall. We turn a corner, then another, before we come upon a sliding glass door that leads to a patio on the side of the house. Dev lets go of my hand to unlock and open it, then ushers me outside.
From here, I can hear the music playing inside the tent, but we’re shielded from view of the backyard by a lattice wall of climbing roses. The flowers scent the air, petals fluttering in the soft evening breeze. I swear it’s the most romantic place I’ve ever been. I even spin to take it all in, my sari twirling around my legs.
‘I love this,’ I exhale, tilting my head back to take in the bright stars and the slim crescent of the moon.
When I look back down again, Dev is offering me his outstretched hand.
‘Come here,’ he says. ‘Dance with me.’
The laughter that bubbles out of me is light. It pushes away the lingering tension from our encounter with Oakley. I still don’t feel good, but the pain is easing.
‘You know I can’t dance,’ I remind him, though I kick off my heels and nudge them to the side in preparation. ‘Remember my parents’ anniversary party?’
‘I’ll never forget Jeremy’s howl when you stepped on his toes with your stilettos.’ He snickers, motioning me toward him with an arm extended. ‘Stand on my feet. I’ll move for both of us.’
‘Dev, I don’t want to hurt—’ My protest dies when he sweeps an arm around my waist and lifts me briefly. A moment later, he settles my feet on top of his.
‘Hold on to me.’
So I do. And he sways with me in his arms, moving our feet in tiny steps.
‘This can’t be comfortable for you,’ I giggle, glancing down at my bare feet on top of his very expensive designer shoes.
‘I’m always comfortable when you’re in my arms.’
‘Charmer.’
‘You know it.’
I have nothing else to say to that, so I rest my head on his chest and let him take over. Almost instantly, the song shifts into something slow and romantic. Like the universe just knows.
His heartbeat is slow and steady under my cheek, a reminder of the conditioned athlete he is.
When it ticks up a notch, I lift my head and eye him. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘You’re going to think I’m crazy,’ he says. ‘But you make me nervous, Willow Williams.’
‘Me?’ I have to scoff. ‘Why?’
‘Because I’m so in love with you that it hurts.’
My breath catches and my heart stutters at the open honesty on his face. I nearly tear up again, because I know exactly what he’s talking about. I know that deep soul ache. And I feel the same about him.
‘Me too,’ I whisper back.
He cups the back of my head with one hand, guiding my cheek back to his chest, to the steady beat of his heart.
We stay like that for several more songs until the rhythm changes again and the roar of the crowd in the tent breaks through the magic.
‘I was wondering,’ I say as I step off his feet and onto the smooth stone of the patio, my own heart racing. ‘Should we . . . Should we put a label on this? I mean, you’ve already technically called me your girlfriend, but still . . .’
And there it is, that famous grin, the one that internet poets have written volumes about.
‘Willow,’ he says, mock-scandalized, eyes wide. ‘Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?’
Refusing to smile back, I pinch my lips tight. But there’s no hiding how I feel. Not from him.
‘Maybe.’
‘Then I wholeheartedly accept.’
He drops his lips to mine. And, finally, Dev smudges my lipstick.