Twenty-Six
Wes
It’s amazing how quickly I’ve become completely accustomed to sharing a bed with Devon.
I’ve never been an overnight kind of guy, and I definitely never imagined that this thing with Devon would get to the point where I can barely stand to be away from him, but that is exactly what’s happened.
Ever since that break we took while he was in Paris, it’s like we just haven’t been able to get enough of each other.
Sure, we don’t seem to have any other settings than fighting and fucking, but in some really weird and twisted way that actually works.
I love falling asleep with my arms around him, and I love that every morning we somehow end up in the same position—with me on my back and Devon plastered to my side like a barnacle.
Sometimes I’ll ease away from him and let him sleep for a bit while I shower or make breakfast or get some work done, but other mornings—like today—I just enjoy lying here, my hand threading through his hair as he uses my body for a pillow.
I keep telling myself I don’t know what this is, but that’s a lie; I know exactly what it is, I just don’t want to admit it to myself.
Especially not today, when I’ll be meeting my sister for lunch in a matter of hours.
I have to tell her what’s been happening between Devon and me; Kira agreed not to tell anyone about us, but I know she won’t stay quiet forever, and I don’t want Emma to find out through the grapevine.
Besides, Christmas is only a few days away and I want to spend it—or at least part of it—with Devon.
That won’t be possible if we don’t come clean to our families.
“Morning,” Devon grumbles in a raspy voice and I glance down to see him blinking up at me with sleepy eyes.
I offer a soft smile. “Morning.”
“What time is it?”
I glance over at the alarm clock by the bed and let out a sigh. “Almost ten. I need to be going soon. I’ve got lunch with Emma today and knowing her she’ll drop in at my place an hour beforehand because she just couldn’t wait to see me,” I say with an eye roll.
Devon lets out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
I drop my hand from his hair, running it in a gentle motion over his shoulder and down his arm. “I want to tell her about us. If you’re okay with that?”
He peels himself away from my side, giving me a brief moment to wonder if I’ve freaked him out. But he’s simply repositioning himself on his front, with his arms propped up on my chest, so our faces are closer. “I’m totally fine with it. Are you sure you’re ready for it?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m ready. It’s not like we can expect Kira to take this to her grave. And to be honest, keeping it a secret just doesn’t seem that feasible anymore. I mean, how are we going to sneak some time in together on Christmas if we have to hide this from our families?”
He arches a curious brow, the corner of his mouth lifting up. “Christmas, huh? Isn’t that something boyfriends usually do?”
“I was thinking more…boyfrienemies.”
He lets out a soft chuckle. “Is that a thing?”
“Of course, it’s a thing!”
“Okay then, what do boyfrienemies do?” he asks with an indulgent smile.
“Well, they have really great sex, and they kiss, and hold hands, and go out. And they don’t do any of that with other people,” I explain.
“And they get to insult each other whenever they want, and fight over anything but mainly TV and football, and they steal orange juice and t-shirts from each other…”
Devon grins. “Well, you’re an excellent boyfrienemy, then.”
I shrug. “Well, naturally. You still need to work on the sex part.”
He punches me in the shoulder, prompting me to let out a groan of pain before bursting into laughter. Reaching up, I wrap my hand behind his head and draw him down for a long kiss.
“So…” Devon says once we finally pull away. “Did you want me to come with you to lunch today?”
I let out a soft sigh and shake my head. “Nah., I think I should probably tell her on my own. I don’t want her to feel…outnumbered.”
“Why would she feel that?”
“I don’t know,” I say with a shrug. “It’s just…
this whole time, I didn’t really consider Emma to be too big a factor, but what if I was wrong?
” I flick at my lip ring with my tongue, suddenly anxious.
“What if she thinks I was just…waiting in the wings, or something? Like I just pounced on you the second you guys broke up.”
Devon lets out a soft chuckle, reaching up to run a reassuring hand over my cheek. “She’s not going to think that, trust me.”
“But—”
“Wes, I promise you—Emma and I were over a long time before we actually broke up. To be honest, I’m pretty sure the only reason we didn’t break up sooner was because we’d already agreed to get married and neither of us wanted to back out of that commitment.
” His expression turns thoughtful, and he lets out a soft sigh.
“I think in the end it was the Paris job that gave Emma the kick up the bum she needed to realise a life with me really wasn’t what she wanted.
And for me it was you calling me out on my shit,” he adds with a wry breath of laughter.
My brows shoot up. “ Me?”
He nods. “Yeah, you. And Natasha, I guess.”
Ahh, the emails. Shit, that feels like a million years ago now.
A thought occurs to me, and I bite my lip in hesitation before venturing it.
It’s something that’s crossed my mind a few times, but I’ve never been sure whether I wanted to know the answer or not.
Or whether the answer even mattered that much.
“So…is it true that you guys weren’t…um… very physical anymore?”
Devon arches a pointed brow, clearly amused by my stuttering question. “Are you sure you want to go into this topic?”
My face screws up in distaste. “Not really, but I think it could help to know.”
He offers an indulgent smile. “Okay, fine. Yes, it’s true.
It was easy to put it down to being swamped with work and wedding preparations, that sort of thing…
but in reality, there just wasn’t really a spark.
I don’t think there ever was, to be honest.” He grins and rolls us over so he’s straddling my waist. “ Not like there is here.”
I tug him down against me, claiming his mouth for a fierce kiss. “So many sparks,” I murmur against his lips.
He groans, nodding. “All the sparks.”
True to my prediction, Emma shows up at my house forty-five minutes before we were due to meet for lunch. Fortunately, I made it back home in plenty of time and have showered, changed, and am lazing on the couch with my sketch pad when she knocks.
I set down my sketch pad and go to answer the door, sweeping her into a fierce hug.
“Oh, wow. You’re cuddly today,” she says wryly as we break apart.
“What, I can’t be happy to see you?”
She grins at me and steps further into my flat, patting me on the arm as she passes by. “I appreciate the love, brother. Ooh, do you have some new drawings?” she asks, reaching for my discarded sketch pad on the sofa.
I quickly snatch it up before she can look at it. “Oh, no, it’s just half-finished stuff.”
She gives a little tinkling chuckle. “So? Since when are you shy about your artwork.”
Since I started drawing nude sketches of your ex-fiancé?
I shrug. “It’s not that. I just don’t really have anything worth showing in here. All my good stuff’s on the shop’s Instagram page.”
She waves a dismissive hand. “I’ve already seen all of that.”
“Well, then you’re up to date.”
She gives a little one-shouldered shrug. “Okay. Did you want to go now? I haven’t booked anywhere.”
I grab my coat and we head outside, wandering down the high street with Emma showing uncharacteristic pickiness, screwing her face up and shaking her head at a number of pubs and cafes that we pass until she finally gives the nod of approval to my local Chinese.
It’s not exactly what I anticipated for lunch today, but I know the food’s good and, really, right now all I want is to be out of the cold.
“Hi, Wes!” Mia, the owners’ daughter calls out to me as I guide Emma to a table by the window.
“Hey, Mia. How’s your dad doing?”
She rolls her eyes. “Still working even though the doctor told him he has to rest his back. You know what he’s like.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, sounds about right.” I’ve been coming to this place at all different times of the day and on all different days of the week for more than fifteen years now and I’d say there’s been a grand total of two times where Mr Wu hasn’t been working.
“Okay, so I kind of have some news,” Mia says after we’ve placed our orders. “And I want you to promise not to freak out on me. I swear, everything’s fine—“
Dread falls like a weight to the pit of my stomach at her words. Looking closer now, I can see she looks tired, and definitely a lot less put together than I’m used to seeing from my fashion-conscious little sister. “Oh my god, Em. What is it? Are you sick?”
She shakes her head, offering a wry smile. “No, I’m not sick. Or at least…I feel like balls but it’s only morning sickness.”
“ Morning sickness?” I croak out, feeling completely spun out. I mean, I’m glad to know she’s not dying of some strange disease, but my baby sister can’t be pregnant! She’s just a kid!
She nods. “Yeah. They say it’s only supposed to last the first trimester, but that’s a bloody lie. Here I am, four months in, still puking at the smell of ham. It’s fucking Christmas, Wes—there’s ham smell everywhere!”
Four months…which was right around the time she and Devon broke up. I shake the thought out of my head. Surely that’s not possible…right? We went over all this just this morning… it can’t be possible…
“Does Devon know?” I ask, unable to stop the question from escaping my lips.
She gives a casual wave of her hand. “Yeah, he was in Paris a few weeks ago for a work thing so I told him then. He’s been so supportive about the whole thing. Such a rock.”
“Okay, I have to go,” I announce, sliding the chair out and getting to my feet.
Emma’s eyes widen. “What?”
I reach out to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Em, I’m really happy for you. Or, well, sort of. Trust me, once I adjust to the idea I’ll get there. And I promise I won’t eat any ham around you. But right now, there’s someone who’s in dire need of an arse-kicking.”
“What? No!”
Ignoring her protests, I storm out of the restaurant and high tail it to the tube, texting as I walk.
Me: You at home?
Devon Montgomery: Just got back from a run
Me: On my way
Devon Montgomery: Door’s unlocked
When I get to Devon’s place, I let myself in and wander through the house, finding him hanging out in the kitchen and looking absolutely edible in a pair of loose grey joggers and yet another one of my t-shirts.
His hair is all messy, the way I like it, and he hasn’t shaved yet today, which makes me want to grab his face and just rub him all over my naked body.
I give a sharp shake of my head. Priorities, Wes! “Oh, I don’t think so. Don’t for a second think you’re getting off the hook for this just because you look so bloody sexy in my t-shirt and with the hair and the stubble…and…” Okay, I’m getting side tracked again…
Devon’s brows shoot up, his lips twitching in amusement. “Um…thanks. But what am I not off the hook for?”
I throw my hands out in frustration. “How could you not tell me Emma is pregnant?”
Devon’s mouth parts in surprise but he quickly masters himself. “Okay, first off, let me just make it crystal clear that I am not the father.”
I let out a soft sigh, nodding. “Yeah, I didn’t really think you were after, you know, this morning,” I say uncomfortably, gesturing randomly with my hand. “Nice to have it confirmed, though.”
He draws in a deep breath before letting it out. “The reason I didn’t tell you was because she specifically asked me not to. I couldn’t really explain to her why I was uncomfortable with that without divulging the details of our…situation. And this was weeks ago. It was before…I mean, we hadn’t…”
I arch an eyebrow at his inability to finish a thought.
“I think you know what I mean,” he says, cheeks flushing crimson.
I step closer, crowding his space. “I think I’d like to hear you say it.”
He offers a shy smile. “We weren’t boyfrienemies yet.”
I grin and lean forward, pressing my lips softly to his. Then I move down to nuzzle at his neck, inhaling deeply to draw in the scent of his sweat. I press a series of kisses to his skin before sliding my tongue out, savouring the salty taste as I lick him.
“What are you doing?”
“Licking your neck.”
“I’m all sweaty,” he groans. “You’re being gross.”
I let out a wry chuckle. “So, I can swallow your cum and put my tongue up your arse, but licking the sweat from your neck is gross?”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
I let out a breath of laughter and leave off licking his neck, instead dropping to my knees and pushing up the hem of his stolen t-shirt. I then go to town licking and kissing his abs, nuzzling at the dark trail of hair that leads down past his waistband.
I’m about to move further south when we’re interrupted by a rapping at the front door, which is accompanied by a familiar voice. “Devon? Dev, it’s Emma!”
“ Fuck,” I groan, quickly getting to my feet. I am going to kill my sister.