Chapter 9 #2
“Story of my life.” I fidget with my napkin, tearing tiny pieces off the corner like it’s personally offended me.
“But, um, if you’re not ready to call it a night…
You bought me coffee and cake… It’s only fair that I invite you back to my place for some crappy instant coffee and, maybe, if there is any bread left, I could offer you some toast. Can’t guarantee that there will be any butter though. ”
“You’re really selling it.”
“Well, I am studying marketing.”
He laughs, that deep throaty chuckle that makes me want to follow it down his throat.
His dark eyes meet mine. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”
The walk to my apartment is surreal. Anthony Devine is walking beside me through the streets of New York, hands shoved in his pockets, laughing at my commentary about the things we pass.
A rat dragging an entire slice of pizza.
A guy dressed as Elmo having an argument on his phone. Just normal NYC things.
“This is me,” I say when we reach my building. “Fair warning: it’s a fifth-floor walkup, and the stairs are held together by hope and questionable building codes.”
“I’ll risk it.”
By the time we reach my door, we’re both slightly out of breath. I fumble with my keys, very aware of him standing close behind me.
“Jade’s out,” I say as we enter. “She’s got a study group that usually turns into going clubbing…”
“Cool.”
We stand there awkwardly in my tiny living room. This is Anthony Devine. In my apartment. Looking at my hand-me-down furniture and the water stain on the wall.
“So, do you want that cup of coffee?”
His dark eyes are watching me intently. “Am I going to need to stay awake for a while yet?”
I turn the heat up in my own gaze. “Yeah, you are.”
“Okay, then you better make me a cup.”
I grin and head to the kitchen. When I come back with two mugs of definitely not-great instant coffee, he’s looking at Figgy Smalls on our bookshelf.
“Is this Figgy Smalls?”
“In all his dying glory, yeah.”
“He looks better in person.”
“Liar.”
He takes a sip of the coffee and winces. “This is…definitely coffee.”
“I warned you.”
“You undersold how bad it would be.” But he’s smiling as he sets the mug down, and I abandon mine next to his without even pretending I’m going to drink it.
“Want to see my room?” I ask, then immediately cringe. “That sounded less like a bad line in my head.”
He grins. “I’d love to see your room.”
My bedroom is messy, but that’s not what draws my attention. Instead, it’s my collection of Anthony Devine posters that I definitely should have taken down before bringing Anthony Devine to my room.
“Oh my god,” I say, cringing at his face staring at me from my wall. “This is—I can explain—”
He’s laughing. Actually clutching his stomach, doubled over laughing.
“You said you were my biggest fan.”
“Please kill me now.”
“No way. This is the best thing I’ve ever seen.” He steps closer to examine them. “Oh wow, this one’s from my first tour. Look at that hair.”
My face is burning, and I focus on the floor. This is it. This is how I die. Death by mortification in front of my celebrity crush, whom I’ve been messaging for a month.
“Hey,” he says softly. “Nick. Look at me.”
I force myself to raise my gaze to meet his.
“I have your spoof video bookmarked on my phone. I’ve watched it at least fifty times.”
That makes me feel marginally better. “Really? That feels slightly stalkery.”
We’re standing very close now. I can see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, smell his expensive cologne. God, I want him.
But suddenly, nerves slam into me. This is Anthony Devine. His last boyfriend was a famous runway model. His boyfriend before that was an NFL player.
Fuck. This is where my obsession with Anthony Devine is not a good thing. I know too much about his dating history. And I know I don’t measure up to any of it.
“I—” I start, then stop. My hands are shaking.
Anthony studies my face, then pulls out his phone. My phone buzzes a second later.
AntD
Hey
I laugh shakily.
NickKnackPaddyWhack
Hi
AntD
I think you’re really cute.
We don’t have to do anything right now.
But I would really like to kiss you.
I swallow hard, looking up from my phone to find him watching me with those dark eyes.
NickKnackPaddyWhack
Kissing can definitely be arranged.
He sets his phone aside and steps closer, one hand coming up to cup my jaw. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
And then he’s kissing me, and suddenly, I’m not worried about kissing Anthony Devine, multi-millionaire pop star.
I’m just concentrating on kissing AntD, the guy I’ve gotten to know so well over the last month. The guy I really, really like.
The kiss is slow and thorough, like he’s memorizing me. His hand slides from my jaw to the back of my neck, fingertips brushing the short hair there, and I actually shiver. When I part my lips, he makes a low sound in his throat that I feel everywhere.
I grip his hoodie to keep myself upright because my knees have apparently forgotten how to function.
When he draws back, we’re both breathing a little faster.
“We’re going to take this slow, okay?” he murmurs, thumb stroking along my jaw.
“There was nothing wrong with that kiss, right?” I ask because, apparently, my anxiety has no off switch.
He smiles. “That kiss was perfect. I just… I really like you. I don’t want to mess this up by rushing things.”
“Slow is not usually my speed,” I admit.
“Mine either. But you’re different.” His eyes search mine, and there’s something unguarded in his expression. “I’ve never liked anyone at the beginning as much as I like you. So I have a very high motivation for not screwing this up.”
Okay, that might be one of the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me.
“So we’re going to take it slow,” I say, stepping back. “So…ah…do you want to hang out for a bit? We could watch something on my laptop?”
He grins that perfect Anthony Devine smile. “Sounds perfect.”
I grab my laptop while he kicks off his shoes, and we settle on my bed. It takes me three tries to remember my password because Anthony Devine is on my bed. In my room. Asking what I’d like to watch like this is a totally normal Friday night occurrence.
“No pressure, but if you pick something with subtitles, I’m going to fall asleep,” he warns. “Post-concert crash is real.”
“Noted. Mindless entertainment it is.”
We end up with an action movie that requires zero brain cells to follow.
Anthony arranges my pillows and pulls me against him like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and I try not to think about how I could ever explain this.
“Yeah, so Anthony Devine came over and we just…cuddled and watched The Fast and the Furious.”
His fingers trace absent patterns on my arms, and his breathing starts to slow. He shifts slightly, burrowing deeper into my pillows like he belongs there, like we do this every Friday night.
I feel the moment he starts to lose the battle with sleep, his body relaxing completely, the patterns on my arm becoming less deliberate and more like gentle, unconscious touches.
Having Anthony Devine fall asleep holding me is the most surreal moment of my life.