She wanted him to kiss her.
The tip of his nose bumped against hers as their fingers laced together. Palm to palm, Kelly wondered if he could somehow hear how fast her heart was beating. Did he have any idea what he was doing to her?
“If you don’t tell me to stop, I’m going to kiss you.” He murmured. “And I’m going to kiss you like you’ve never been kissed before.”
Oh, God. Please yes.
Swallowing the lump forming in her throat, she tried to remember that kissing another man was not wrong. Patrick didn’t want her to be alone forever, did he? No, of course he didn’t. If the table had been turned and she’d left him so suddenly, she would have wanted him to be happy.
I deserve to be happy. There’s no need to punish myself.
For some reason, those words sounded eerily familiar, but she couldn’t place where she’d heard them before.
“I...I want you to.” She replied breathlessly. “I do.”
“And I want to.” His breath fanned against her trembling lips. He trailed his fingertips down her jaw and cupped her cheek, tilting her head back slightly.
As their lips met, so tenderly, Kelly felt the world around them fade away. Nothing else existed while he kissed her, so achingly slow and perfect. Her body melted into his and she kissed him back, terrified and eager.
The taste of his lips was like nothing she’d experienced before. A hint of coffee and something else—something she could most certainly get used to.
A moan escaped her as their lips parted briefly, but then he was back for more. He kissed her with a passion she’d forgotten could be possible, and she loved every second of it.
When their kiss ended and he pulled away, she sucked in a deep, shuddery breath and peered at him, unsure of what to say or do.
It had been so long since she’d experienced a first kiss. Had the etiquette changed?
“Thank you for that.” He whispered as their foreheads rested together. “It was better than the coffee.”
Laughing nervously, she licked her tingling lips and pulled away completely. It wasn’t because she regretted it or suddenly wanted distance; it was simply because she was afraid of what she might do if she stayed close to him.
“So, next weekend then?” Her voice squeaked.
“Yes, Ma’am.” He finished off his cup of coffee and placed it on the counter, his eyes never leaving hers. “Will that be all right with you?”
“That’s fine. I can, um, maybe fix dinner again?”
“I’d like that. Well, as long as the power stays on this time.” He chuckled. “I can bring something, too. How about some dessert?”
“I love dessert.” Her smile suddenly faded. “But I don’t think I could ask anyone to watch my kids on the weekend again. That happens so rarely and—”
“I don’t mind them being there.” He winked. “The more the merrier.”
“Really?” She was surprised. Most men didn’t want to have dinner with a woman and her kids.
He’s not most men.
“Really, really. And, uh, I’ll bring an exorcist with me.”
—————
Devin
The last several days had been somewhat strange, and for Devin to actually think that, it had to mean something. Living with Nick was going as great as he could have expected, but there was definitely something else in the air he couldn’t quite put his finger on—at least not yet.
Something had changed between them. At first Devin shrugged it off as Nick being his usual overly polite self, but then he realized he didn’t really know Nick well enough to tell the difference.
There were gazes that lingered for too long and the occasional shoulder pat that ended with a squeeze and odd butterflies in his stomach.
Now, while he really didn’t get into deep meditation about who he was before he lost his memories, Devin couldn’t help but wonder if something—something—was going on between them.
He decided he would find out as soon as Nick got home. The work week had been busy for the guy and Devin felt terrible for not having found a job yet. He’d been living with Nick for almost a month and the rent would soon be due; he couldn’t let him down now.
He didn’t want to let him down. The thought of disappointing Nick tore him up in ways he didn’t understand.
What was it about Nick Laveau, exactly? Why did he get all weird and sweaty-palmed around him?
“Maybe I’m attracted to men.” He murmured to his reflection as he shaved.
But that really didn’t make sense—not much did these days. If he’d been gay, then why had he dated Laney? Why did his tongue swell up around Kelly? Why had he gotten tangled up with Mia What’s-her-face and done such terrible things?
“Don’t think about it.” He glared into the mirror.
Thinking about what he’d done, even though he didn’t remember it, always put him in a bad mood and gave him a bad taste in his mouth. Recalling the details Doctor Thompson had given him was like reading a bad story.
And the fact he was the villain in the book didn’t help matters at all.
I am not that man anymore.
No, he was better now. He was different. He wouldn’t hurt anyone else ever again.
But I did hurt people – lots of people.
Lydia’s face flashed through his mind, followed by Benji and Laney. His chest ached as he tried to imagine doing anything bad to them.
It really killed him on the inside.
“You weren’t a very good boyfriend in the end. You frightened me.”
Laney’s words echoed in his mind.
“I can be better.” His voice cracked. “I will be better.”
But, how? Who would be crazy enough to give him that chance? He was damn lucky he’d found a roommate—someone who ironically hadn’t been around and who miraculously didn’t read newspapers often enough.
He’d seen the newspaper clippings. The man in those pictures was not a man he recognized. Sure, it looked like him, but Devin didn’t know him.
He never wanted to know him.
After rinsing his face off, his eyes drifted to the dragon tattoo on his chest and his stomach began to churn. He hated that tattoo so much.
What did it mean?
“Hey, Dev-o! I’m home.” Nick called from downstairs. “Where are you?”
“I’ll be down in a second.” He called back, his eyes still glued on the tattoo.
Pursing his lips together and swallowing hard, he tossed his razor back into the medicine cabinet and sighed.
Maybe one day everything would make sense again. Maybe one day he could prove his worth to everyone.
Especially Jebson McIntosh.
“Don’t give up on me yet.” He stared at himself, frowning. “Things will get better.”
They had to.
—————
Nick
With an extra skip in his step and a smile permanently plastered on his face, he headed into the kitchen with a box of donuts and a bag full of supplies. He had a plan in mind, one that required careful execution, but so far, everything was working out just as he wanted.
While he waited for Devin to join him, he pulled out the blueprint he’d had made up by a friend of a friend and examined it.
“This should work perfectly,” he murmured.
He had the worst habit of talking to himself.
Hopefully, Kelly would appreciate the surprise he had in store for her.
Ah, Kelly.
His mind raced back to the kiss they’d shared only a short while ago and he chuckled happily.
Damn, what a woman.
As if life couldn’t get any better after the night Devin kissed him, he could now say he’d kissed both of his dream partners and they were both really good at it.
But the true test would come when he finally got them together, alone, with absolutely no interruptions and a lot of persuasion.
What if they didn’t agree? What if they couldn’t get along?
What if it’s just another Valerie and Shiloh?
He wasn’t sure he could handle that heartache again. Of all the things in the world he needed, it was Devin and Kelly; some way, somehow.
“Hey, Nick.” Devin popped up behind him, freshly shaven and sexy as hell. “What’s up?”
“Not much, yet.” Nick half-joked. “I brought donuts. You hungry?”
“I’m starving.” Devin flashed him a smile and grabbed for the box, the scent of his cologne silently torturing Nick. “How was work?”
“Busy as hell. Again.”
“Sorry.” Devin stuffed a donut into his mouth, his cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk, and frowned. “I’m working on it, you know? Getting a job.”
It was hard to understand half the words he was saying, but Nick got the gist of it. He nodded and shrugged. “It’s fine, Devin. I know it’s hard to find work around here. That’s the only disadvantage of living in such a small town.”
“Is it?” Devin swallowed and blinked. “I mean...there are other things, right? Things that make living in a small town suck?”
“Depends on what you’re talking about.” He lifted a brow.
What was he talking about, exactly? Why was he acting so strange all of the sudden? Well, stranger than usual, Nick supposed.
“Lots of things, I guess.” Devin licked at the corners of his mouth, trying to get every last crumb of powdered sugar goodness. “Like...you know, things...”
“Yes, I’ve established, we’re talking about things, but what kind of things?”
“I’unno.” Devin’s gaze dropped to the box of donuts again and his jawline tightened.
Nick knew that look.
“Okay, Dev-o, I’ll make this easy for you; what’s on your mind?” He leaned against the back of a chair, staring at him. “And don’t try to change the subject because you’re pretty damn good at that. Just tell me what’s bothering you.”
Devin’s head dropped and his shoulders slumped, followed by an elongated sigh.
“Yep, I’m waiting.” Nick cleared his throat. “It can’t be that bad...”
“No, it’s not bad. It’s just,”—he huffed—“it seems so petty, I guess? Like, I have more important things to worry about?”
“Everybody has a different definition when it comes to what’s important, pal.” He moved to the fridge to grab a beer, glancing over his shoulder occasionally. “What’s going on in that cute head of yours?”
Devin’s shy laughter made him grin. Even though they hadn’t talked about what happened the night of the storm, Nick thought about it a lot. Maybe Devin didn’t remember kissing him? Or, maybe he did and he just wasn’t saying anything about it.
What if he regrets doing it?
Nick couldn’t help but worry about it; kissing someone while completely shitfaced wasn’t out of the norm, but it wouldn’t make him feel any better about it. That kiss definitely ranked pretty high on his list of best kisses, ever.
It’s right up there with Kelly’s.
Heat washed over him, wave after wave, and the room suddenly felt too hot. Just thinking about Kelly’s sweet mouth against his got him bothered in the best ways.
Devin, too.
Shit. What happened to the promise he’d made to himself about never getting into anything like this again? Had Valerie and Shiloh not been a good enough lesson? Was he really considering going through the heartache one more time, just for good measure?
It could be different this time. Kelly and Devin are different.
“It’s not cute,” Devin mumbled, pulling him from his thoughts. “There is nothing cute about this head. I kinda hate it.”
“You hate your head?” He grabbed a bottle of beer and kicked the door shut, and then he leaned against it and pulled off the cap, taking a long drink. “Why?”
“Because it doesn’t work anymore.” Devin shrugged his shoulders, averting his gaze back to the box of donuts. “It’s frustrating, you know...not being able to remember stuff. I hate not being able to remember.”
“I won’t lie and say I know how it feels, because I don’t. It probably sucks more than anything else in the world, but you have to keep your chin up about it, Dev-o. Your memories will come back eventually. It always miraculously happens in the movies.”
“But this isn’t a movie—it’s my life, Nick. Everything has been wrecked and though, I think it’s for the better sometimes...”
His voice drifted off into a tired sigh and he dropped his head again, shaking it slowly.
For reasons unknown to him, Nick stepped forward and rested a hand against his shoulder. “Hey, man.” His voice became softer. “I get it. I mean...I don’t ‘get’ it, but I’m trying to understand. You feel lost and helpless about it. I felt that way when my mom was dying. There’s no greater pain in the ass than not knowing what to do to make it better.”
“That’s awful.” Devin shrugged his hand away and turned around to stare at him. His eyes watered like he was on the verge of tears, and that alone made Nick feel like shit. He wasn’t trying to make him cry. He hated to see people cry, but it was worse when it was someone he cared about. “Don’t compare this to your mom’s death, Nick. Please. That is...that is so much worse than this. I’m still alive. I don’t know why I’m complaining so much.”
“Because it’s human nature?” He smiled and glanced at Devin’s mouth. He’d missed a speck of powdered sugar—damn him—and all he wanted to do was lick it off.
“I’m a little tired of being human then.” Devin released a low breath and rolled his eyes. “But I guess it’s better than being a monster. Getting my memory back means I remember every horrible thing I’ve ever done. I’m not sure I can handle that.”
“We all do horrible things, Devin. And—”
“No!” Devin cut him off, his eyes wide and full of horror. “Don’t you dare say that, Nick. You don’t know what I’ve done. You haven’t heard the stories I have. The whole kidnapping and ransom thing? That’s not even the tip of the iceberg. That doesn’t even begin to explain what a pathetic piece of shit I used to be.”
“You were never pathetic, and you were never a piece of shit. I don’t care what you or anyone else says about it.” Anger filled him as he stepped closer, chest to chest with Devin, and grabbed the back of his neck. “You listen to me, and you better listen good, okay? You. Are. Not. Bad.”
“But I was. I really, really was.” Tears shimmered in Devin’s eyes as he struggled to pull away, but he wasn’t going to let him go that easily. “Monsters in storybooks don’t have anything on me, Nick. I was the worst of them.”
“I refuse to believe that,” he murmured, his face inching closer and closer. “There’s nothing bad about you, Devin. You may have done some pretty shitty stuff, but I don’t believe—not for one minute—that you did any of it because you wanted to. People don’t do terrible things to others without having had terrible things done to them.”
Devin’s breath hitched.
“Somebody must have done something to you to make you the way you are.” His fingers sank into his hair, so soft and thick, and he pulled his face a little closer, carefully placing his beer on the table behind Devin. “People who have been hurt have a tendency to hurt others. That’s just how it is.” Swallowing hard, he lifted his hand to cup the side of his face. “Who hurt you?”
Devin’s eyes darted back and forth between his, filling with more tears as he opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it again as his Adam’s apple bobbed. It was easy to see the pain hidden behind his beautiful hues—it only made Nick want to fix whatever damage had been done.
Someone had hurt him. They’d hurt him badly and all Nick wanted was to wrap him up in his arms and take the pain away.
It was crazy to even have such notions; they barely knew one another, if at all. But that was Nick’s downfall and he knew it. He cared too quickly, and too much.
One day it would probably kill him.
“You can talk to m
e, Devin. You know that, right?” His voice remained gentle and low. Sliding his thumb over his trembling bottom lip, he inhaled quietly and smiled. “Even if you can’t remember who it was or why they did it, you can feel it, can’t you?”
Ever so slowly, Devin nodded.
“You know you’re a good person, don’t you? Tell me you know that.” He pleaded as he rested his forehead against his. “Whatever your mind keeps telling you about being bad and terrible...I need you to forget that. I need you to focus on the good, Devin. Life is way too short to dwell on what has been or should have been. You’re going to be miserable if you keep letting it eat at you.”
“But—”
“Nope.” He silenced him with his finger against his lips, shaking his head. “None of that. You have to stop, Devin. Stop punishing yourself for a past you don’t even remember. Stop living with that guilt. Whatever you did, whoever you were, that doesn’t matter anymore. The person who hurt you? They don’t matter anymore either.”
Devin’s eyes closed and a tear slid down his cheek as he released a shaky breath. Nick wasn’t sure if he was getting through to him or not, but a small part of him hoped he was; Devin didn’t deserve to live a life of guilt over the mistakes of his past.
How could he help him move past it?
“I know who hurt me.” Devin’s voice became raspy, heavy with emotion. “I may not remember it up here,”—he touched the side of his head—“but I remember it everywhere else. When I’m around him...when I’m around him, my skin crawls and I feel like I’m going to puke my heart up. I don’t have to remember to know he did terrible things to me.”
“Who?” Nick was practically cradling him in his arms as he awaited a response. Anger simmered beneath his skin as he tightened his arms around Devin’s frame, holding him as comfortingly as he knew how. “Who makes you feel that way?”
Devin’s eyes snapped to his and the sadness behind his hues suddenly turned into anger. “My dad.” He whispered, and then he licked his lips. “From the first moment I laid eyes on him, I swear the hairs on my arms stood on end; I was uneasy around him every time he came to visit, which wasn’t often. I’ve always had a bad feeling in my gut when it comes to him. I didn’t know why. I wasn’t sure what it was until I got out and went home. I was alone with him for ten minutes and...”
The Lost Days (Prairie Town Book 3) Page 12