Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
Blakely
It had been such a good day and had included the surprise of a lifetime. Watching Amanda, Josh, and Reed together solidified how perfect they were for one another. And I couldn’t believe I’d never seen it before.
They’d been pretty inseparable in college, but that was common in our friend group.
I was just glad I’d been able to be there to witness their commitment ceremony. I’d missed so much over the past two years, including Hazel and Luke’s wedding. If I’d missed that too, I would’ve been devastated.
I was on the verge of tears most of the day, but the party afterward had been spectacular. I’d even indulged in a glass of champagne during the toast. Amanda had introduced me to all her friends and refused to let me leave the dance floor toward the end of the night.
I was exhausted, but still, I couldn’t sleep. And the reason was in the room next door.
The next day was supposed to be a lake day on Reed’s boat, so we—besides Luke and Hazel, who had to get home to Josie—stayed at the lake house for the night.
I wound up in the room I always stayed in, and it hadn’t changed a bit. The room was mostly white, apart from the dark wood side tables and the touches of olive green in the comforter and the curtains. We’d spent so many summers and holidays in that house that it felt nostalgic and comfortable to slip into the sheets.
Patiently, I waited for sleep to overwhelm me. My muscles were tired, and I was ready to slip into a—hopefully—dreamless slumber. But I knew it was a lost cause when I’d been staring at the ceiling for an hour, hoping against all hope that Devon would appear at my door. Or that I would somehow muster the courage to go to his.
I’d hoped we would have found a second to talk sometime earlier that day, but there really wasn’t a spare moment. Except when he’d given me the ChapStick.
I rolled over and stared at the curtains billowing as the cool night breeze carried the scent of the lake into the room. The second he’d offered it to me, I knew it wasn’t the same one I’d misplaced. The one I had been looking for was well worn and nearly gone. The one he’d given me was brand new.
I didn’t know how he could have known that’s exactly what I needed at that moment. It was a surprise, but the thoughtfulness of the gesture wasn’t. Devon was the most thoughtful and sincere human being I’d ever met. He’d noticed what ChapStick I used and how frequently.
He’d bought an extra, probably more than one, just in case I ever needed it.
That thought made me catapult out of bed. My journal slipped onto the floor, opening to the entry I’d penned earlier about the day. I set it on the bedside table.
In sock-clad feet and nothing more than an old T-shirt that hung past my sleep shorts, I quietly spun the doorknob and peeked into the hallway. I looked left, then right, and only stepped outside when I confirmed the coast was clear.
I tiptoed over to Devon’s door, and before I lost my nerve, I knocked. Only the door pushed open the moment my knuckles connected with it. Hesitantly, I pushed it open further and glanced around the empty room.
My heart sank. I had no idea where he might have gone—maybe home? But I wasn’t going to stand there and contemplate it where anyone could see. I returned the door to its original position, but rather than go back to my empty room, where I would continue staring sleeplessly at the ceiling, overthinking Devon’s empty room, I headed for the stairs. I knew there were leftover cupcakes downstairs, and although the sugar wouldn’t help me sleep, maybe it would help my heart.
Being careful not to slip on the wooden stairs in my fuzzy socks, I headed toward the kitchen. My mind had wandered to the red velvet cupcake waiting for me, so when I hit the bottom step and turned to the right past the living room, I startled to a stop.
Devon was standing before the open refrigerator, illuminated only by the fridge light before him and moonlight shining in from the windows behind him.
He hadn’t heard me descend the stairs or walk into the room, so I took the moment to let my gaze run over him. He leaned back against the island across from the fridge, staring blankly into it. His arms and ankles were crossed, and one of his hands covered his mouth like he was deep in thought. A white T-shirt clung to his arms and chest, and the gray sweatpants he wore were thin enough I knew they would leave little to my wild imagination.
Just as I was about to announce myself, he glanced in my direction and straightened. He closed the refrigerator doors and turned toward me, stuffing his hands into his pockets. My eyes tracked the movement, and it only took a quick glance for me to realize that yes, those pants did leave very little to the imagination. They were tight in all the right places and showed off the outline of his impressive package.
I looked back up at him with a flush spreading across my cheeks I prayed he couldn’t see.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.
Acting completely normal was difficult, but I walked into the kitchen like I would have any other day and pulled open the fridge. The cupcakes were front and center, but when I peered at the options, red velvet wasn’t one.
“There’s none left,” he said behind me, and I was unsurprised that he knew the flavor I was looking for. The cupcake was secondary at that point, but I grabbed a yellow one that was either vanilla or lemon.
“No,” I said, answering his earlier question. “I couldn’t sleep. And I’m guessing neither could you?” I set the cupcake on the island and retrieved a paper towel from across the kitchen. I turned around in time to see him shake his head.
“Too much on my mind. What about you?”
I nodded and set my cupcake on the paper towel, struggling to act like nothing was wrong. “I have a lot on my mind, too,” I said, peeling back the foil around the cupcake and taking a large bite. I chewed a few times, but with cupcake still in my mouth, I continued. “Like what is the speed of darkness? We know the speed of light, but that must mean there’s a speed of darkness, too.”
Devon coughed out a disbelieving laugh and shook his head, propping a hip on the counter and refolding his arms over his chest. “If darkness is the absence of light, then when light leaves, darkness returns, which would suggest that darkness has the same speed as light, but that couldn’t be what was on your mind.”
I blinked, finished chewing, and then tilted my head at the man before me. “I should be more surprised you had a response to that.”
He shrugged and motioned toward my face. “You have a little,” he began, but rather than try to explain where on my face he was referring, he reached forward and swiped across my cheek.
When he leaned back, there was a good amount of vanilla icing on his thumb. And he did the last thing I expected. Rather than wipe the icing on the paper towel conveniently sitting beneath my half-eaten cupcake, Devon licked the remnants from his thumb.
It shouldn’t have been as erotic as it was, but suddenly, all I could think about was his tongue and how it might feel on me.
“So, tell me what was really keeping you up,” he said.
And my filter had disappeared right along with my ability to think straight, so I found myself blurting, “You.”If he was surprised by my answer, he didn’t look it. Clearing my throat, I explained, “Amanda told me.”
And that earned me an eyebrow raise. “She did?”
I inclined my head and picked at my cupcake. “She told you not to talk to me.”
He took a deep breath, and I braced myself for what he might say next.
“I shouldn’t have listened to her. I thought she made some good points at the time, but that was…stupid.”
“Then why did you?”
He turned and braced his hands on the granite counter, letting his head fall forward. Wishing I could read his thoughts, I stared at the side of his face like maybe I could will him to talk. And the longer the silence stretched on, the higher my anxiety climbed.
“Because I don’t want to fuck this up,” he finally said.
The honesty in his voice made my breath catch. I wasn’t expecting such vulnerability. It was oddly reminiscent of our conversation in the garage two weeks before, and it was a surprise to hear something like that once, but twice was truly unexpected .
“How would you fuck it up?” My voice was barely above a whisper, yet it felt like I echoed through the silent kitchen.
“It’s—I—” he stuttered, and with an angry groan, he finally said, “Because it’s you, Blakely. You’re my best friend, but fuck, I’ve wanted this longer than I can remember. There’s a lot on the line if this doesn’t work.”
“You’re right,” I said without question. “But wouldn’t it be worth trying?”
We glanced up, locking eyes at the same time, and I saw his answer reflected in his eyes before he spoke, but hearing the “yes” leave his lips was even better.
He straightened and slowly rounded the corner of the counter. He stepped up behind me, and I took my time, turning to face him. He was so close, but not nearly as close as I wanted.
“So, can we have the conversation we were supposed to have before?”
One side of his mouth curved upward, and his eyes dropped to my mouth as my tongue dipped out and licked across my lower lip. “I would like that.”
“Well, how do you feel about it?”
“How do I feel about our kiss?”
“Kiss es , yes.”
He chuckled at my correction and stepped closer. With another step, there was no space left between us. I stood as still as possible while he reached out and cupped my cheek. The warmth of his palm seeped into my skin, and I took a deep breath that was all him, filled with his heady, clean scent.
His thumb brushed over my lips, and I couldn’t help but slip my tongue out and sneak a taste of his skin. Even in the dim light of the kitchen, I saw his pupils dilate and the muscles in his neck tense.
“I feel like if I don’t kiss you again soon, I’m going to go fucking crazy.”
“Fuck, then please do it.”
And I didn’t have to wait. His mouth was on mine in the next second, and I was pinned between his hard body and the counter behind me. And it felt like I was exhaling. A weight lifted off me, and all the anxiety and stress were completely gone.
One of his hands dove into my hair and gripped it at the root, guiding the kiss and slipping his tongue past my lips. I loved the possession in his touch, contrasted by the care I felt as he brushed my cheek with his other hand.
My hands roamed his chest and abdomen. His muscles flexed beneath my touch, and I was eager to roam lower, but I refrained, wanting to extend our kiss as long as we could.
But something I hadn’t felt in years stirred within me. It was the need to touch and be touched. To feel someone else’s body against mine. I wanted to feel Devon everywhere.
His lips against mine, firm and confident, were a tortuous tease. And as our kiss deepened, my desire to take things slow faded. His hands tightened in my hair, and my fingers wandered lower until I brushed against the waistband of his joggers.
He sucked in a breath, and a small grunt left his lips. Determined to see more reactions, I snuck my fingers lower, only an inch beneath the fabric, but it was enough that our kiss faltered. Enjoying the tease too much, I altered course, pushing his shirt up and dragging my nails across his taut, tattooed stomach.
A low moan rumbled in his chest, and his head dropped to my shoulder, kissing along my neck. “Your hands, Blake,” he groaned into my skin. I dragged my nails higher and higher until I brushed against his nipple, and the groan turned into a low growl. He snapped and took my face in his hands once again. His kiss was brutal and wanting. “It’s never felt like this before,” he muttered against my mouth. “It feels so…”
“…right,” I finished for him, completely understanding the feeling. It was perfect.
I began to wrap my arms around his neck, ready for more, when we both stopped. I thought the sound was in my head, but Devon’s simultaneous reaction made me realize it wasn’t. Then it happened again, and our widened eyes locked.
“Someone’s on the stairs. I don’t want?—”
Devon nodded and tugged at my hand. He led me farther into the kitchen, and it wasn’t until he grabbed the door handle to the pantry that I understood. We slipped into the room and the second the door closed, panic instantly set in.
It was so dark I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face or Devon, who was less than a foot in front of me. I could feel his hand in mine, but suddenly, I was back in that basement. The hard floor beneath me, the chain tight around my ankle, digging into my skin with a sharp ache every time I moved.
Darkness seemed to penetrate every corner of the room.
“Dev,” I managed to say through a shaky breath and the blind panic.
“I don’t know who it is, but they’ll be gone in a second,” he said, not recognizing the terror in my voice.
So, I tried again. “Dev, please . I-I?—”
It was so dark, I couldn’t see, but I felt Devon stop. Then his hand touched my hair and my face where he felt the tears streaming down my cheeks.
“Fuck, B, what’s wrong? What’s going on?”
“The dark,” I whispered, opening and closing my eyes against the memories bombarding me. “I can’t. I can’t?—”
Without any other information, Devon tugged me along, and my panic only rose when he led me deeper into the pantry. My breathing grew ragged, and more tears burned my eyes until he opened a door I didn’t know was there.
The house was so big it not only had a large pantry but also a butler’s pantry off the kitchen. The small hallway tucked off of the kitchen was filled with moonlight, and the moment we stepped into it, I began to breathe easier.
Devon didn’t worry about closing the door behind us. He immediately turned, concern and fear distorting his features as he urgently looked me over. His hands clasped my face, and I looked up at him with a shaky breath.
“Blake.”
“I’m okay,” I whispered. I inhaled for five seconds, held it for five seconds, and exhaled. I repeated the pattern three times, and finally the terror began to subside. My heart was still pounding, but my visceral reaction was waning. “I’m okay.”
“What happened?” He kissed my forehead and then both of my cheeks, brushing away the final tears.
God, I’d totally ruined the mood with my panic. But I knew Devon needed to know about these things. I’d been intentionally vague about my experiences because I didn’t want to share my trauma. But if we were going to make this work, he had to know.
“I don’t like the dark,” I said quietly, hoping whoever was still in the kitchen wouldn’t hear us. I covered his hands that were still on my cheeks and continued, “That basement was so dark…it’s stuck with me. So, whenever it’s pitch black, when I can’t see a foot in front of me, I tend to freak out.”
The sympathy in his eyes was sweet, but it was the muscles in his jaw ticcing that belied his underlying anger. “That makes sense. I’ll be more cautious of that from now on. I’m sorry.”
I cut off his apology with a shake of my head. “You didn’t know.” I smiled weakly, and he returned it. “And now I feel like I’ve ruined the mood.”
“Not one bit.”
“This probably won’t be the last time something like this will happen either. I have a lot more good days than bad now, but sometimes the smallest things will set me off. Like a pitch-black room or someone brushing up against my back.”
He nodded and kissed me softly. It was amazing what that one kiss did to calm my racing heart. “I understand. And I’ll be here for all the good and the bad.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him if he was sure. To clarify that the bad times were really bad sometimes and that he shouldn’t just agree to agree. But it was Devon. He meant what he said, and he didn’t say things lightly.
And there was pure honesty and devotion reflected back to me. I trusted him.
I was tall, but I still needed to press up onto my toes slightly to reach his mouth without any other help. Our lips brushed once and then again, but his kiss was tentative.
I pulled back and assessed him. “Are you sure I didn’t ruin the mood? I promise I’m okay now, and I’ll be okay.”
Devon’s response wasn’t what I expected. He dropped his hands from my face and wrapped them around my waist, tugging me against him. But his answer was loud and clear, or rather long and hard, against my stomach.
“I’m sure,” he whispered, dipping down to take my mouth again. That time, there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation, and the kiss was the perfect antidote to any of my lingering fear.
Behind us and around the corner, someone giggled. Devon and I stopped at the same time, lips only a breath apart as we listened. There were hushed whispers and then the sound of feet on the stairs.
We didn’t move again until the voices were far enough away. Then a door shut somewhere upstairs, and I hoped we were in the clear.
“We need to go upstairs. Now ,” Devon growled against my mouth, punctuating his words with one last fierce kiss. He stepped back and took my hand, peeking around the corner to make sure the coast was clear, and he quickly led us through the kitchen.
When we passed the island, I saw the remnants of my half-eaten cupcake were gone, but I didn’t stop to investigate further. We quietly yet quickly ascended the stairs. My room was the closest—not by much, but it was still closer—so Devon took a sharp left and pulled me inside.
He closed the door and had me pressed against it quicker than I could think about what was happening. When my mind caught up with my body, all I could consider was the pleasure pulsing through me.
Devon’s mouth was blazing a hot trail down my neck and toward the wide collar of my large T-shirt. His big hands tightened around my waist and pushed the hem of my T-shirt higher. The first brush of his fingers against the bare skin of my stomach made me shudder.
He liked my response because it earned me a low moan in my ear.
“You were right earlier,” he said, kneading my hips and trailing his calloused fingertips over my stomach and back. “Nothing has ever felt this good, because nothing has ever been this right .”
I nodded and clasped his face in my hands. Against my palms, the scratch of the stubble along his sharp jaw made me consider how it might feel when he kissed other places. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone or anything before. But there was something I needed him to know before we continued. Maybe it wasn’t necessary to say, but I needed to vocalize it either way.
“You are the sweetest man I’ve ever met. But I don’t want you to hold back.”
He licked his lips and watched my mouth. “I don’t think I could hold back even if I tried. And sweet isn’t necessarily the word I would describe how I usually like to fuck. Because that’s what I plan to do. You’ve been the center of every single one of my dirty fantasies since I met you. I want to do all the things I’ve dreamed of doing to you for the last ten years.”
His dirty confession made me push off the door and press closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Good. I want that because I won’t break, Devon. I’m not…broken.” My voice hitched on the last word and all the awful memories it stirred, but I didn’t let it affect me .
Devon brushed my hair behind my shoulders and leaned in. “Of course you aren’t,” he said, like it was absurd to even suggest. “You’re my little warrior.”