The breath held in my lungs escaped without permission, and iterupted from my lips with a gasp. My tongue poked at my inner cheek as allthoughts of meatloaf fluttered to the ground. “Because he’s …” Suddenly emotioncame to choke me, clotting my throat and halting my words. I swallowed. “He’severything to me, you know that. I don’t want to lose him—Ican’tlosehim, Brooke.”
“Honey,” she said softly. “Youwouldn’tlose him. You’donly be gaining the man you deserve. Instead of these lame assholes you find atthe bank or wherever the hell you pick them up.” I bubbled with a water-loggedgiggle. “Andyou’d finally be getting some good sex, and holy shit, youreallyneed some of that.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Kylie
It was a meatloaf.Undeniably, a meatloaf.
Slicedand ready to serve, I put the plate on the table. I turned, ready to grab thebowl of mashed potatoes, when a key slid into the lock on the front door and mystomach bottomed out.
Devinstepped into the room and I noticed the daisies in his hand.
Immediately,his eyes rolled to the back of his head. “Holy fuck, that smells good,” hesaid, groaning as he closed the door behind him. Eddie ran to figure-eightaround his ankles, and Devin bent over to stroke a hand over his back and tail.“Hey buddy.”
Whenhe stood up, he caught sight of me and walked around the table to hand me theflowers. My tongue glued itself to the roof of my mouth, making it difficult tospeak, but I smiled and took them from him.
“Thankyou,” I managed to say while Brooke’s words coaxed the butterflies in mystomach to erupt in a cluster of panicked flutters. “But you just got medaisies yesterday,” I reminded him, glancing at the dozen in the center of thetable.
Henodded, eyeing the blossomed petals. “Yeah, I know.” His voice rasped in histhroat, weighted down by something he was withholding.
Iencouraged myself to continue smiling, to not focus on his lips or the factthat my heart felt like it could burst through my chest at any moment.
Iturned with the bouquet gripped in my fist and hurried into the kitchen to findsomething to put them in. “God,” I laughed nervously, “I don’t think I evenhave another vase.”
Iopened a few cabinet doors as Devin walked in behind me.
“Thesepotatoes going to the table?” he asked needlessly. How was he sounding so calm?How was he not shaken by the obvious chasm that had formed in our friendship,opened upby all of these feelings of romance and sex?
Ilooked over my shoulder with a quick nod. “Uh, yep.” He responded with a nod ofhis own, grabbed the bowl, and headed back to the table.
Myheart was wrestling in my chest, ringing around the feelings that were suddenlytoo much for me to handle on my own. It was as though my emotions had manifestedinto something impossible, obsessive, and completely out of control. I leanedmy back against the counter, closed my eyes and focused on taking one, twoslow, relaxing breaths.
“KJ?”My eyes snapped open to see Devin standing in the doorway, an expression ofconcern blanketing his face. “You okay?”
Inodded. “Yeah, I’m … fine.” My eyes flickered over to the refrigerator andnoticed a dust-coated vase on top. I pointed toward it. “Hey, can you reachthat?”
“See,I knew this is the only reason you keep me around,” he teased, grabbing thevase off the refrigerator with ease. “I’ll wash it after dinner. Come on, let’sgo eat before it gets cold.”
Witha sigh and a nod, I placed the plastic-wrapped bouquet on the counter andfollowed him to the table, stopping in my tracks when he pulled out my chair.
“Whatare you doing?” I blurted without thinking.
“I’mpulling out your chair,” he said so simply, I could have smacked him. Like itwas nothing and like I wasn’t supposed to read into it. But how could I notwhen he had never done that before? Not once.
“Butwhy?”
Hedropped his gaze to the table, furrowing his brow. Considering his answerbefore he finally replied, “Because we’re having dinner.”
“Butyou’ve never—”
“Kylie,”he said, looking back to me. “I really just want to have dinner with you, okay?So, please. Just sit.”
Myeyes fell to the chair he held in his white-knuckled grip.
Hisgrandfather had given us the small maple dining set when Devin first moved intothe apartment, after Brooke took hers. It was an old thing, something Billy hadin his breakfast nook. We’d protested initially, saying he needed it and thatwe could buy our own. But he insisted, with the blunt assurance that, he nolonger gave a shit about having breakfast in the nook, when he could no longersit there with his late wife.
Sixmonths later, he had moved into the nursing home.
