18. Devlin
18
DEVLIN
I did what I came to do; so why do I feel so terrible, like I’ve just handed the keys of the kingdom to my worst enemy?
Because you have.
I need a drink.
Blair’s dancing with Storm. He must be hilarious because she keeps tossing her head back and laughing. Either that, or he’s tickling her.
I will kill him if he’s doing that.
Got to get a grip.
My mind’s a mess. I can’t stop thinking about earlier, when I had her against the wall. The tango didn’t do a thing to quell my desire, either. It made it worse. I can still taste her on my tongue, and when I curl my fingers, it feels like I’m digging them into her thighs.
Yes, I know that I mostly cradled her face. I can imagine, can’t I?
But maybe Hands is right. Maybe I should tell her what I saw. Maybe I should go for it, let Blair decide her own future. It’s not my place to make her life choices for her. She should get a say.
It’s just…when I think about what I saw, my heart shrivels into dust. I can’t go through what happened with my parents all over again. I can’t live with that sort of guilt. Experiencing it once was enough. Not again.
“Having a good time?”
I glance over and see Rebecca’s face peeking out of the wall. Blair’s nana really can’t stay out of the limelight.
“I am,” I answer. “And yourself?”
“Well it would be a lot more fun if I wasn’t dead.”
That makes me chuckle. “Yes, I suppose it would be. But shouldn’t you be hiding? You know, it’s bad luck for a family when their relatives return.”
“I know. Believe me, I know.” Her hand appears and she waves me away. “My Great-aunt Edith showed up when I was a girl, and my mother had a time getting her to disappear. She even tried to stop her up in the family well.” She laughs at the memory. “But my aunt didn’t leave until we were all married off, and I won’t go away until I see Blair happily matched. But anyway”—she gives me a ghostly side-eye—“I just had to check up on you, and since Blair’s angry with me, I’m not sure how honest she’ll be about the way things are going.”
I nod to the ballroom floor. “She’s dancing now. Looks like they’re having a good time.”
I down the rest of my champagne and look for another glass. Hm. There’s none to be seen, so I magic up another into my palm. I down it, too.
“Is she having a good time?” Rebecca asks in a voice that suggests her granddaughter is not.
“Looks like she is to me.”
“Perhaps.” The apparition turns her face to me. “You know, I always questioned why the two of you broke up. You were such a good match. And then, if I’m being honest, I worried about you when you started dating so many different women. You seem like a one-gal kind of guy to me, Devlin. Oh, you’re pretty, yes, but you come from good stock, a grandmother that loves you very much. Not so much that uncle of yours.”
She studies me for another moment before saying, “She told me about your parents. I’m so sorry.”
Rebecca doesn’t mean that they died in the crash. I know what she’s implying. “Well, if my grandmother told you, then she must’ve known that you’d keep my secret.”
“And I did, even when my own granddaughter’s heart was shattered by you. It seemed to me that something more was going on there. Am I right?”
I grunt. It’s the best answer that I can muster.
“I thought so. You know, in my experience, running from a problem never solves anything. No matter how much the truth hurts, no matter what we think might happen because of it, it’s always best to face our fears. Pull out our swords and kill our proverbial dragons.” She presses a hand to the side of her mouth. “Don’t tell my son-in-law that. He loves dragons.”
I can’t help but smile. “So Blair has told me.”
“And what’s she telling you now?”
“Not quite what I need to know yet.”
She lifts her brows. “Be sure that you get what you need before it’s too late.” She lets that sink in before adding, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to disappear before anyone recognizes me and word gets out that I’ve returned to ruin”—she adds with an eye roll—“my family.”
I chuckle as Rebecca slips back into the wall and vanishes from sight. Then I sigh and slump my spine against said wall, staring out into the crowd.
Several women are eyeing me, but I make a big show of scowling and looking away to fend off any unwanted advances. The last thing I need tonight is a witch looking for a hookup or, worse, love.
There’s only one woman who owns my heart, and she’s dancing with another man.
I just want to die.
Or kill someone.
Maybe tonight’s not the night for that.
Blair dances like she’s made of wind, spinning and moving fluidly. Storm’s a great lead, I’ll give him that.
It’s about the only thing I’ll give him.
He doesn’t hold her like she’s something to cherish, though. He holds her like a possession. Of course, he doesn’t know her. That could change.
Or it could not.
What would I feel if they married? Would I be all right with that? Wouldn’t I have to be? Wouldn’t there be no other choice?
There’s always a choice.
I could make one tonight that will change my future, that will change everything. All I have to do is be honest with Blair, admit how I feel.
Tell her that I love her.
Whoa. Hold on there, cowboy. Maybe just tell her that I want to try again and explain what happened, why she thinks that I betrayed her. Explain that I was a teenage asshole who was afraid, but I’m not afraid anymore, and if she wants to walk away from me, she still can.
Once I get that vision.
The alternative is to watch her marry someone else, someone who will never love her like I do, will never love how she pulls her hair to one side of her shoulder, and how she plants one foot on top of the other when she’s thinking, or how she loves puzzling out problems with magic.
The Blair that I remember and love.
Oh gods. I still love her. Why does it hurt to admit that? Why has it taken me this long to really admit it to myself?
Yes, I was halfway there when I decided to attend the ball. It was clearly because I didn’t want Storm Grayson to have her, and I still don’t.
There are things about Storm she should know.
But I don’t want to seem like I’m pushing her away from him.
I glance up when I hear her laugh at something he said, and it feels like someone scooped my heart out with a spoon, let it slide onto the floor and then stomped it with their foot.
I love her. Still. Always have. Always will. I want her to be mine.
Is it worth it to have my heart crushed? Yes, it is.
After all, we haven’t even talked about the kiss—more like we ran screaming from it like it was a building on fire. All I have to do is say I’m not sorry that it happened and that I want more, that I’m ready to be the man that she needs me to be. I’ll explain why I purposefully sabotaged our relationship in high school.
The dance comes to an end, and Blair smiles up at Storm, looking like a star come down to earth, shining for all of us to admire.
She nods at something he said, and then he takes her hand and kisses the back of it like he’s a duke or something. My chest tightens in anger, and I curl my hands into fists.
It’s not until they part ways that my chest finally loosens, the knot unfurling inside my rib cage.
Blair sees me, smiles, and I suddenly feel a whole lot lighter, like the world’s spinning just for me, just for us in this moment.
She makes her way over, grinning like a cat who just ate a mouse, and I slip my hands into my pockets, doing what I can to calm my nerves. This is it. I’ll be honest. I’ll be open. I’ll say that I don’t regret the kiss, that I want more, that I can’t stand seeing her with other men.
I head over, grabbing two glasses of punch from a table. Hopefully these have lots and lots of alcohol. I have a feeling I’m gonna need it.
After taking a quick swig it is confirmed—no alcohol.
I hand one to Blair when she joins me, still grinning. My heart’s so big it feels like it’s going to explode. My palms are sweating. Is it hot in here?
No, not hot. I’m just about to put myself out there, let the woman I love know how I feel.
“How was the dance?” I ask, immediately regretting that I put another man into her head when what she needs to be thinking about is me, no one but me.
She takes the glass with a little nod and sips. “Thank you. I’m burning up. I should’ve rested after that tango—” Her gaze cuts away from me dramatically, and her cheeks turn bright red. Oh yeah, she felt it, too. “But then Storm asked me to dance and yada yada yada, here we are.”
She slaps her forehead like either she forgot something or she’s trying to fill up the space between us with as many words as possible because she’s uncomfortable with the kiss and our public sex dance. For the record, I don’t regret either of them.
“But you asked about Storm. It was good.”
“Blair, listen…”
Her gaze cuts back to me, and she looks up, her big doe eyes shining with emotion. I think it’s fear. I should make this fast before she bolts. Not that Blair would ever run away from a fight, but she might just run away from me.
“Oh, I saw my first vision.”
I blink. “You did? When?”
“Right after we danced.”
“Was it the one? ”
She makes a funny face. “Um, no.”
“What does that mean?”
“Never mind.” She waves her hand in dismissal. “Anyway, what did you want to say?”
I lower my voice. “About what happened earlier…”
Her cheeks turn even more red. “About the dance? Oh, it was fine. I was worried of course that it would be too sexy and not get Storm’s attention in the right way, but it did.”
“No, I mean about the kiss.”
Her eyes pop out of her head. “What? Oh, that. What about it?”
My gaze drops to the floor while I try to find the words to say this. “Listen, I know it was unexpected, but I don’t reg?—”
“Storm asked me out on a date,” she blurts out.
The world stops spinning as my stomach crashes to the floor, where dancers smash it into pulp. “What?”
“Your plan worked. He’s not mad anymore, and he asked me on a date for tomorrow. Of course, I’ll need you to be there so that you can tell me what to say in a Cyrano de Bergerac sort of way.” She stops, seems to notice that I’ve gone pale, that my life has ended. “If that’s okay.”
My brain catches up to the conversation. “You didn’t need me with you when you danced with him.”
“I know, but this is different. I need you there to make sure I do this right. Please, Devlin. Wow. Never thought I’d hear myself say those words.” She laughs, but it quickly fades into a distant memory when her eyes darken. “Please. Help me win him. You said that you would. You promised.”
It feels like my life is being strangled right out of me as I choke out the words, “Sure. I made a promise, and I plan to keep it.” I lift my glass. “Here’s to first dates.”
She lifts her glass with me. “To first dates.”