Brookesighed. “It’s only noble when you do something about it, Dev.”
“I’vetold you guys this so many times: I don’t want to fuck this up.” I emphasizedevery word, enunciated the syllables with passionate desperation for them tostop. Formeto stop wishing things were different. “We have a goodthing. She needs me, I need her, and if I made a move now and things fellapart?Wewould fall apart, and I can’t do that shit to her, never mindto myself.”
Brookeeyed me with sympathy. “I think it’s sweet you have this need to play her heroall the time, and you’re right—shedoesneed you. But I think what youbothneedis for you to stop playing the hero only in herstory. Maybe it’s time for you to be yourownhero too.”
Trent’seyes were wide, lust heating his gaze. “Fuck, baby, that was insightful. Andhot.”
Sheshrugged casually. “The mood called for it.” Then she patted my arm. “Do theright thing, idiot. I’m going to go help her clean up.” And with that, sheturned on her heel and pulled a rag from her back pocket as she went.
Iwas left alone with my cousin, dreading the inevitable commentary. Ever sincehe and Brooke had decided they would be exclusively in an open relationship,all those years ago, his confidence in the way of relationship advice had grownto reach obnoxious proportions.
“She’sright, you know,” he mumbled, not even waiting a gracious ten seconds after hisother half had walked away.
Ishook my head and rolled my eyes towards the exposed beams. “Here we go.”
“Yeah,yeah, I know. You’re tired of hearing it, but I’m also tired of saying it.You’re not doing either of you any favors by going in the same fuckingcircles,” he said under his breath. “You screw around with some girls while shebitches to Brooke about how none of them are good enough for you. She datessome guy for a few months and you threaten to rip him a new asshole—”
“Notmy fault she has shitty taste in guys,” I snickered.
“Dev,dude …” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Her taste isyou, man.Okay?”
Wheelsturned in my head. My palms were instantly clammy. “Don’t fuck with me, Trent.”My voice wastightand my heart was beating fasterthan it had any right to.
Heshook his head, his eyes looking to me with something resembling sympathy. “I’mnot fucking with you. Brooke told me a while ago.”
“Then,why the hell has she been going out with guys who are the polaroppositeof me?” I argued, finding it easier to deny it all than to acknowledge I mighthave been holding back for nothing.
Trentshrugged. “I don’t know, man … maybe the same reason you’ve been screwingrandom chicks who are nothing likeher.”
Thenhe walked away, leaving me to analyze the women I had chosen over the years tofill that enormous void. Had there really been a method to my madness all thistime? Had I picked them and their natural hair colors and unmarked skin becausethey were far from being anything like her? And then, her boyfriends:desk-job-holding, college graduates and tattoo virgins. Admittedly, I hadwondered if she had simply thought they were more her speed, being a collegegraduate herself. But now I questioned if it was all a need for her to keepthem separate from what she really wanted:me.
Ibegan to read into those heated, tension-packed moments throughout the years.Those times I thought she wanted me to kiss her, wanted me to put my hands onher. Those times I talked myself out of making my move, insisting that Iimagined it all and only saw the things Iwantedto see.
“Goddammit,”I muttered, shaking my head. Because in that moment, I finally considered thatmaybe I had kept my distance for nothing. That I had listened to her insistenceof staying friends for nothing. That I could have been with her this wholetime.
Iglanced at her, bent over and wiping away at tables. My lipsquirkedand my heart pulsed as I walked toward her and dropped to a seat next to whereshe was cleaning. As she turned her head to smile at me, with that gray-purplelipstick, her eyes twinkled in the way they always had, and my heart stopped.
Whythe fuck had I not seen this shit before?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Kylie
Iwas lying onthe couch with Stephen King’sLisey’sStory,when Eddie sprang frommy lap and ran to the door. I lifted my head from the book just as Devin walkedin, guitar strapped to his back and duffel bag in hand.
“Hey,”I said before dropping my eyes back to the pages. My thumbnail was back betweenmy teeth, chewing absentmindedly as I fed on the words.
Withouta word, I heard him drop his keys to the kitchen table and his bag to thefloor, before his steel-toed work boots fell heavily as he walked across thedining area and into the living room. In one hand, he scooped my ankles up fromthe couch and sat down, placing my feet in his lap.
Hegrabbed the remote from the coffee table and turned the TV on, but one quickglance at him, told me he wasn’t seeing what was playing on the screen. Helooked distracted and confused, with his forehead crumpled and his jaw ticking.
Ilaid my book across my thighs. “What’s up?”
“Huh?”Devin looked over to me, startled. His breath faltered, coming in short gasps,and I tilted my head.
“What’swrong? Are you okay?”
“Oh,uh …” He shook his head, curling his lips into a half-smile. “I’m good.”
