11. Devlin
11
DEVLIN
I ’ve lost my mind. That must be it. There’s no other reason why I would’ve asked Blair to essentially live with me.
Oh gods, the way she smells. Like honey and rain. It’s all over me. I don’t know how she managed to make her room smell like her in one night or how that scent jumped from her to me, but it did.
I don’t want to wash it off. But I must.
Hands didn’t have breakfast ready, can’t tell you how disappointed I am at that. I really wanted to see Blair with her hair all messy à la Julia Roberts eating a crepe (or was it a pancake?) in Pretty Woman. But since my messy hair fantasies went up in smoke thanks to a set of hands that I should look into replacing, I came to my room to clean up and think a lot about Blair—about how pouty and sensuous her lips are. They puffed out when I told her that she needed to stay with me, and I just wanted to nibble them before I slowly made my way down her neck to her breasts and then between her legs.
I’m giving myself a boner. Best to stop thinking about her, but that’s impossible.
How am I supposed to endure the days or weeks it takes for her to have the vision?
I’ll just have to close my eyes when I talk to her, I guess. Or better yet, I’ll wear nose plugs.
The more I remember that this is a business transaction and nothing more, the better off I’ll be. Blair wants to marry Storm Grayson and she deserves to marry someone else, someone who can take care of her, ’cause gods know that I can’t.
I regrettably take a shower. The whole time my mind wanders to what it would feel like to trace my finger over her collarbone, what she would taste like if I nibbled her flesh in that spot and how wonderful it would be to hear her gasp my name.
I am lost.
I’m so lost. Somehow, someway I’ve got to get my head screwed on straight.
A knock comes from the door. “Come in.”
The door creaks open and Hands waddles in. He shuts the door and stops, both hands facing me.
“What?”
He signs, What are you doing?
“Waiting for you to have breakfast fixed. Is there a reason why it’s late?”
I couldn’t sleep last night.
I bark a laugh at that. “You don’t sleep.”
Besides the point. Again—what are you doing?
I sigh. “I hope this isn’t about Blair.”
This is definitely about her.
I slip on a crisp white shirt and roll up the sleeves. “What I’m doing is making sure that I get the vision to help me solve the problem that you haven’t been able to help me fix.”
Hands drums one set of fingers on the floor impatiently. And how’s that?
“Our powers got switched. Her grandmother, who’s come back as a ghost—don’t tell anyone.” Not that Hands would. His social circle consists of me, me and me. “Her grandmother switched our powers. Blair’s got mine and I’ve got hers.”
You’re not going to use it to bed the whole town, are you?
“What is it with everyone thinking I’m a man whore?” I snap. “Yes, I’ve dated several women, and yes, I’ve often taken two to a party on more than one occasion. But I haven’t slept with anyone since…”
Since before the winter solstice. Since I last danced with Blair at the ball held by Feylin, the king of the fae. I’d asked her to dance with me plenty of times before then, but that was the first time that she had said yes in years.
And it ruined me for everyone else.
Gods, that was a year ago. I must really have it bad.
“I haven’t slept with anyone in a long time,” I correct as I button up my shirt.
Hands pauses for a long moment. Oh no, here it comes. I brace myself, because when Hands decides to get real, he doesn’t mince words.
Are you going to tell her the truth?
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
But now she has your power. Surely you can see the problem.
“No, I can’t.”
Hands does a series of acrobatic jumps, catapulting himself on top of the dresser so that we’re eye to…um…hand.
But now she has your gift.
“I know.” Where is this going?
She might see what you saw.
Oh, that’s where this is headed. “I doubt it.”
I don’t. She’ll see exactly what you saw, and she’ll put two and two together.
My rib cage becomes a steel trap, grabbing my heart in its tines and closing down hard. “She won’t have the same vision. Blair won’t have my power long enough for that to happen.”
But don’t you think that you should just tell her about ? —
“No, I don’t,” I snap. My house is big, but it’s not so big that Blair won’t hear our conversation, so I drop my voice. I place my palm on top of the dresser beside Hands. “Yes, Blair and I dated a long time ago. I’m not with her now, and I’ll never be with her again. Do you understand?”
But it could be that the vision will still happen.
“It won’t,” I growl.
I’ve worked too hard to make sure that it doesn’t come true. I forced myself to give up the one person that I wanted, all to keep her safe. It’s nearly killed me these years, and it’s damn well likely to kill me now as I help give her to the one man I hate. But she’s better off with him than she is with me.
Is she?
Yes, she is. Storm might be a lot of things, but he won’t hurt her.
Even if all I want to do is bury my nose in her hair, run my fingers down her legs and fill her up with my?—
A smart knock comes from the door. Better put my hard-on away before Blair sees.
“Come in.”
Blair pushes open the door. She’s got her witch face back on. I guess our little heart-to-heart last night hasn’t changed her feelings about me.
She runs a hand down her thigh, showing off tight jeans that hug those luscious hips. The jeans pair well with a fitted sweater that makes my mouth water. I can just imagine peeling her clothes off her, one piece at a time. It takes all my self-control not to wolf whistle at her.
I smile. “Looks like you beat me. I’m almost ready.”
Her gaze zeroes in on my chest. I haven’t closed all the buttons of my shirt yet, and she licks her lips. The hunger in her eyes matches the hunger that I feel. But before she gives herself a moment to let it sink in, she blinks and quickly snaps her head in the opposite direction, focusing on Hands.
Her witch look is back. “Good morning,” she tells him.
Hands bows.
“I got a message from my aunt,” she tells me.
“Oh?”
“We’re meeting in the gardens behind the house for a game of spell ball.”
“Spell ball? This should be fun.”
“Yep,” she says sharply. “You ready?”
She’s still looking at Hands, who jumps down, clearly ready to go.
“Not you, big guy,” I tell him. Hands’s fingers sag. “Next time you can come. Don’t worry, we won’t be gone long. Just long enough to get Blair married to her dream man.” I close the last button. “Now I’m ready. Would you like to head over? We can grab some toast on our way out the door.”
“Yep,” she replies quickly, still not looking at me.
“Then let’s go.”