Daisies & Devin

by Kelsey Kingsley

  Maybe there was something to Nate’s accusations. Maybe Devin had been protecting me, possessing me all this time, and I hadn’t noticed.

  Or, maybe I did, and maybe I liked it.

  The heat radiating from his body was angry, and primal. The way he hovered over me, blowing hot gusts of air through his nostrils, his chest heaving and fists clenching.

  I swallowed and wet my lips. I could feel it—that magnetic pull between us, the one that had gone ignored for so long—and I swallowed again, stepping around him to breathe.

  “You should get out there,” I said, keeping my eyes lowered.

  He nodded, thrusting a hand into his hair. “Yeah … yeah, okay.”

  And with that, he hurried through the door and across the room to the stage. But before the door could stop swinging, I caught a glimpse of him, glancing over his shoulder. Watching for me. Waiting.

  When he was no longer in my sights, I pressed my back to the refrigerator, clutching my hands over my chest in that movie heroine sort of way. My heart thrust with startling strength into my ribs and I knew it wasn’t the break-up, or Nate’s way of making me feel like crap, that had done it.

  No, it was the crush I had denied for so long, bubbling to the surface. It reminded me that it was hard—so fucking hard—for attractive men and swooning women to be friends.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Devin

  “So, does anybody else want to mess with me tonight, or can I play my songs?” I asked as I jumped onto the stage.

  The gathering of town residents and outsiders chuckled as I slid the guitar strap over my arm and head before taking my seat on the wooden stool. The mic felt cold in my hands as I readjusted it one last time.

  “Okay, that’s better,” I said, and the mic squealed through the speaker. “Whoa there, buddy,” I said to it, and the gathering of people laughed again. “It’s excited to see me, I guess.” They laughed louder, and I smiled, taking the giggle break to scan the crowd.

  There were about a dozen faces in all, some I recognized and others I didn’t, and my heart surged into overdrive.

  But then, my eyes fell on Kylie, noticing that she’d let down her hair. I homed in on her eyes, finding my courage within them as I always did. She smiled, and I noticed her lipstick. The grayed-purple hue that so beautifully emphasized the fullness of her lower lip and the pronounced dip of her cupid’s bow. She hadn’t been wearing any during the altercation with Nate—I would’ve noticed, I always did—and she rarely wore makeup unless she was seeing someone, impressing someone …

  My eyes quickly swept the room, looking for who her next target might’ve been, and aside from the very uninterested and very married Patrick Kinney, I came up empty. A match was struck in my gut and a flame began to build, with the hope and possibility, that I could have been him, and when I looked back to her, that flame grew to bonfire proportions at the sight of her stare. Cracking. Spitting. Coaxing my desperation to see things that might not have been there at all.

  It was only lipstick, after all.

  With that sobering reminder, I glanced at my guitar and placed my fingertips on the frets. I held my pick, closed my eyes, and leaned toward the mic.

  “This one’s called ‘Objects of Attraction,’” I said, and with a clearing of my throat, my fingers plucked and strummed against the strings.

  Every vibration of every note, was a direct line to my heart, and the acoustic folk-blues rhythm I made my own gave way to lyrics inspired by the girl in the front row—my biggest fan. My eyes squeezed tight, my forehead crumpled, and I let the words carry me toward that night I wrote the song.

  Sun meets the sand,

  A blinding expanse.

  You say, “Which one would you choose?”

  They’re all so perfect, all so pretty.

  But none of them are you.

  A day on the beach, years ago. All of those girls in their bikinis, many of them looking in my direction, with flirty eyes and bashful smiles. Kylie hadn’t asked me which I’d pick—that was an artistic liberty on my part—but I had asked myself, “If you could have any one of these girls, which would you want?” And it was only ever, undoubtedly, without a fucking second thought … Kylie.

  The song ended and the crowd clapped. A few people cheered, those folks that just had to make some noise. Kylie was always one of them, standing up, hands above her head, hollering, “Yeah, Devin!”

  I raked a hand through my hair and laughed. “Will security please remove the lady in the front row?”

  “Want me to grab the cuffs, Dev?” Patrick called from the crowd, and a few people laughed.

  “That’d be great, Patrick, thanks. I think she needs a night in the tank,” I teased, and Kylie flipped me the bird as she sank back down into her chair.

  I strummed my way into a new song, and with the opening chords, I watched her bounce in her seat. She knew this one. Hell, she knew all of them, but this was her favorite. She knew it was about her favorite flowers and that it was about our friendship.

  What she didn’t know, was that it’s also about how she completes me, and how I believe she is my soulmate. The only woman my heart will ever commit to.

  Before I began to sing, I leaned forward against the mic, and said, “This one is called, ‘Daisies & You.’”

  ♪

  “You were so good,” Kylie enthused, rushing toward me as I stepped off the little stage. “You really brought your A-game tonight.”

  I grinned. “Did you expect anything less?”

  “Well, after handing Nate’s ass to him, I thought maybe you’d be a little off,” she teased. For someone who had just broken up with their boyfriend, she certainly seemed fine. She always did.

  The girl got even less attached than I did.

  “That guy would have to do more than that to shake me up,” I said, smiling coolly, and she rolled her eyes.

  “I have to go clean up,” she announced unceremoniously, but she stood on her toes and wrapped an arm around my neck in a hug. “One day, Dev,” she whispered, “someone’s going to notice you.”

  “As long as you notice me, that’s all that matters,” I whispered back, pressing my temple to hers, not caring that the love I held for her was evident in every inflection.

  Lowering back to her heels, she took a step back, smiling with those gray-purple lips. “Always,” she said, patting one side of my chest, and as she turned hurriedly, I caught the flush that crept over her cheekbones.

  Brooke and Trent edged towards me. I glared at the duo and their teasing grins as I zipped my guitar into its case.

  “So, you’re really playing the knight in shining armor tonight, huh?” Trent teased with a smirk, brushing up against my shoulder. “Gonna finally tap that?” The guy had teased me about it for so long, I don’t think he’d even know how to react if I ever did tap that.

  “Nate had it coming,” I said nonchalantly. “The guy called her trash and brought up her dad.”

  Brooke’s face went from teasing to murderous in nanoseconds. “That fucking asshole. I hope you shoved your foot up his ass.”

  I shook my head. “He was lucky Kylie was there. If she hadn’t been though, well …” I cocked my head and twisted my lips into a snarl.

  She nodded, patting my arm. “I don’t doubt it, sweetie.”

  She exchanged a quick glance with Trent, and casually said, “So, since she’s officially single again …”

  I pushed a hand through my hair and narrowed my eyes at her. “What about it?”

  Trent shrugged. “Oh, well, we were just thinking, maybe now you’ll make your move.”

  That bubbling panic sputtered in my stomach and my eyes quickly snapped back to Kylie, making sure she was far enough away to not overhear.

  “I’m not doing a fucking thing,” I said under my breath.

  Brooke rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand why not. It’s getting pretty pathetic, Devin.”

  My nostrils flared. “I’m not taking relationship
advice from a couple, whose idea of monogamy, is to give each other permission to fuck other people if the mood strikes.”

  Trent wasn’t shaken by the jab. He just shrugged one shoulder and shook his head. “Hey man, at least we’re happy. We’re not the ones trying to fill some void by being a card-holding member of the Pussy of the Month Club.”

  I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous exaggeration. “Yeah, well, if I were with Kylie, I wouldn’t need to look at another woman for the rest of my life. That’s more than I can say for you.” I shoved my hand at his chest.

  Brooke sighed. “It’s only noble when you do something about it, Dev.”

  “I’ve told you guys this so many times: I don’t want to fuck this up.” I emphasized every word, enunciated the syllables with passionate desperation for them to stop. For me to stop wishing things were different. “We have a good thing. She needs me, I need her, and if I made a move now and things fell apart? We would fall apart, and I can’t do that shit to her, never mind to myself.”

  Brooke eyed me with sympathy. “I think it’s sweet you have this need to play her hero all the time, and you’re right—she does need you. But I think what you both need is for you to stop playing the hero only in her story. Maybe it’s time for you to be your own hero too.”

  Trent’s eyes were wide, lust heating his gaze. “Fuck, baby, that was insightful. And hot.”

  She shrugged casually. “The mood called for it.” Then she patted my arm. “Do the right thing, idiot. I’m going to go help her clean up.” And with that, she turned on her heel and pulled a rag from her back pocket as she went.

  I was left alone with my cousin, dreading the inevitable commentary. Ever since he 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 grown to reach obnoxious proportions.

  “She’s right, you know,” he mumbled, not even waiting a gracious ten seconds after his other half had walked away.

  I shook 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 fucking circles,” he said under his breath. “You screw around with some girls while she bitches to Brooke about how none of them are good enough for you. She dates some guy for a few months and you threaten to rip him a new asshole—”

  “Not my fault she has shitty taste in guys,” I snickered.

  “Dev, dude …” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Her taste is you, man. Okay?”

  Wheels turned in my head. My palms were instantly clammy. “Don’t fuck with me, Trent.” My voice was tight and my heart was beating faster than it had any right to.

  He shook his head, his eyes looking to me with something resembling sympathy. “I’m not fucking with you. Brooke told me a while ago.”

  “Then, why the hell has she been going out with guys who are the polar opposite of me?” I argued, finding it easier to deny it all than to acknowledge I might have been holding back for nothing.

  Trent shrugged. “I don’t know, man … maybe the same reason you’ve been screwing random chicks who are nothing like her.”

  Then he walked away, leaving me to analyze the women I had chosen over the years to fill that enormous void. Had there really been a method to my madness all this time? Had I picked them and their natural hair colors and unmarked skin because they were far from being anything like her? And then, her boyfriends: desk-job-holding, college graduates and tattoo virgins. Admittedly, I had wondered if she had simply thought they were more her speed, being a college graduate herself. But now I questioned if it was all a need for her to keep them separate from what she really wanted: me.

  I began 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 on her. Those times I talked myself out of making my move, insisting that I imagined it all and only saw the things I wanted to see.

  “Goddammit,” I muttered, shaking my head. Because in that moment, I finally considered that maybe I had kept my distance for nothing. That I had listened to her insistence of staying friends for nothing. That I could have been with her this whole time.

  I glanced at her, bent over and wiping away at tables. My lips quirked and my heart pulsed as I walked toward her and dropped to a seat next to where she was cleaning. As she turned her head to smile at me, with that gray-purple lipstick, her eyes twinkled in the way they always had, and my heart stopped.

  Why the fuck had I not seen this shit before?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Kylie

  I was lying on the couch with Stephen King’s Lisey’s Story, when Eddie sprang from my lap and ran to the door. I lifted my head from the book just as Devin walked in, 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 between my teeth, chewing absentmindedly as I fed on the words.

  Without a word, I heard him drop his keys to the kitchen table and his bag to the floor, before his steel-toed work boots fell heavily as he walked across the dining area and into the living room. In one hand, he scooped my ankles up from the couch and sat down, placing my feet in his lap.

  He grabbed the remote from the coffee table and turned the TV on, but one quick glance at him, told me he wasn’t seeing what was playing on the screen. He looked distracted and confused, with his forehead crumpled and his jaw ticking.

  I laid 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’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  “Oh, uh …” He shook his head, curling his lips into a half-smile. “I’m good.”

  “Okay …” I eyed him skeptically as I grabbed my book again, slowly holding it back up. The words in front of me weren’t clicking in my brain, and appeared as nothing more than gibberish across the pages. I felt his gaze on me, and with a sigh, I brought the book back to my lap.

  “Something on your mind?” I asked sarcastically, resigning myself to tucking the bookmark back in and setting the book aside.

  Devin shrugged, tapping his fingers on the arm of the couch. “You took your lipstick off.”

  He noticed the lipstick. Taken aback, I scoffed. “That’s what’s wrong? My lipstick?”

  “Oh, um, no. It’s just, uh … been a night, I guess.”

  “Why? Your show went really well, especially that cover of ‘Better Man.’ God, that was so good.” I laid my head against the cushions, hearing his rendition of one of my favorite Pearl Jam songs, playing through my memory.

  He nodded. “Oh, yeah … yeah, the show was good. But, I mean, there was the shit with—”

  “Nate?” I interrupted, letting my face fall. “You’re still hung up on that?”

  He shook his head hurriedly. “No, no … I just mean, there was a lot that went on tonight, I guess.”

  “Well, what else was there, aside from that?”

  Devin pulled his lips between his teeth, sliding his eyes to gaze at me through his peripherals. “I broke it off with Britney.” I laughed, and his eyebrows shot to his hairline. “What’s so funny?”

  I nudged his thigh with my toe. “Was there anything to really break off? I didn’t realize you were so exclusive,” I teased, playfully biting my lip and batting my lashes.

  His face turned to stone. “When I’m with someone, casually or not, I’m not with anybody else, Kylie.” His voice was a knife, slicing through my sarcasm and leaving me startled.

  “Okay, I’m sorry. I was just joking,” I assured him.

  His features softened as he wiped a hand over his mouth. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes. “No, I know. I’m fine … I just, uh …”

  He swallowed. Once. Twice. His Adam’s apple bobbed fu
riously as he licked his lips, and I caught sight of his tongue as it swiped over his bottom lip. Involuntarily, I licked my own, imagining. Fantasizing. “Guys and girls can’t be friends,” rang like alarm bells in my mind and I diverted my gaze to the book in my lap. I thought about the horrors between the pages. Thought about Lisey and the love she so tragically lost, and …

  Yeah, no. That didn’t help at all.

  “You making dinner tomorrow?” he suddenly asked, placing his hand over my sock-covered feet. His thumb curled under and stroked the arch of one foot. Up and down, gently increasing in pressure. It was a mindless action—or was it? It didn’t seem to faze him, but me …

  The fire was stoked and a ball of scorching lust rolled the walls of my stomach. My lips parted with a soundless gasp, and I jerked my foot out of his reach, pulling both of my legs closer to my body. He looked up, hit me with his clueless gaze, and I pulled my mouth into a smile.

  “You were tickling me, you ass.”

  Dev smiled and rolled his eyes. “Sorry. But, uh, anyway, are you cooking?”

  I nodded. “I promised you a real meatloaf, didn’t I? What time will you be home tomorrow?”

  “Well, I’m working in the morning, and then I’m heading up to see Billy. So, I figure around dinnertime. Five, maybe six?”

  “Sounds good to me. Tomorrow’s Brooke’s night to close, so I’m yours all night.”

  Devin stood up from the couch. “That’s what I’m counting on. But anyway, I’m heading to bed. Good night, KJ,” he said as he bent over to kiss my forehead. My chest heaved at the touch of his lips to my skin and my eyes closed with a burst of longing.

  “Good night, Dev.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Devin

  I sprinted up the walkway from my truck, carrying a bag of deli sandwiches and sodas. I pushed through the revolving door and greeted the nurse at the desk with a grin.