Daisies & Devin

by Kelsey Kingsley

  “Come on, man! I was playing around. She knows that—right, Kylie?” Robbie peered around Devin, shooting me a pleading look. I didn’t possess a single ounce of sympathy, even if he did use my name for the first time.

  Devin grabbed Robbie’s chin. “I said not to look at her,” he growled, then pulled his hand away.

  “I thought we were friends,” Robbie moaned, rubbing his chin.

  “You and I have nothing to do with her, understand?”

  Robbie nodded incessantly. “Yeah, man. I got it.”

  “Good.” And with that, Devin left the bathroom, and he looked into Richard’s eyes. “Sorry for waking you up,” he grumbled, and he grabbed my arm and pulled me from their room and back into ours. Like the guy at that party had, like Nate had.

  Like he owned me.

  The door slammed behind us and I watched uneasily, as Devin left me at the entrance and walked into the room. He sat at the edge of the bed and flopped backward, his hands covering his face. I noticed the splotched red along his knuckles and hurried to grab a washcloth from the bathroom. I laid some ice into it before pulling its edges together and approached him quietly, slowly. His breathing was heavy, hot and angry, as I sat next to him, taking his battered hand into my lap and pressing the makeshift ice pack to his knuckles. He winced, but his features softened immediately, peering up at me with his one uncovered eye.

  “I’m sorry,” he grumbled. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s ok—"

  “No, it’s not. But, dammit, Kylie. Please stay away from him,” he begged me, dropping his other hand to the bed. “Stop instigating him.”

  Instantly my heart began to pound, as my face grew hot and red. “You’re blaming me for this?”

  “I’m not blaming you,” he said assertively. “But there’s something going on with the two of you, and I can’t always be there to rescue you every single time you get in trouble with some asshole.”

  The comment stung and I dropped my gaze to his hand in my lap. “Wow, Devin,” I said.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, slapping his hand over his eyes again. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Then what the hell did you mean?”

  “I mean, when he says something to you, just do what I’ve said and ignore him. Please.”

  I swallowed my pride and nodded. “Okay.”

  He growled his frustration under his breath. “Kylie, you’re only here for a couple more days, and I just …” He sighed, shaking his head at the ceiling. “I just want it to be good, before I have to be without you for months.”

  I ran my fingers through his, pressing the melting ice to his bruising hand, and I nodded. Thinking that, at the thought of not seeing Devin for so long, there was no way Robbie’s face hurt nearly as much as my heart. And wondering how different he would be—we would be—by the time he got back.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Kylie

  You never realize how quickly things can change, until they start happening.

  I never realized Devin’s life could so drastically take a turn for the better—or worse, depending on how you looked at it—in a matter of a few weeks. Once upon a time, I never would’ve considered that to be very at all, but after being on the road with Devin and the guys, a couple weeks suddenly felt like an eternity. An eternity that turned him into an exhausted, testy ball of angst. It was a transformation that seemed unlikely, but there it was, happening right before my eyes.

  It wasn’t unlike witnessing a tornado. Something you might marvel at, the power of nature, until you realize how profoundly catastrophic it could be. And in that same moment, you realize there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop it from happening.

  Two weeks shouldn’t have had that effect. It was only two weeks. But there we were, sitting in Devin’s dressing room, as I watched him manipulate pomade through his hair.

  What the hell did Devin O’Leary know about hair products?

  Well, apparently quite a bit.

  “Nobody cares what your hair looks like, babe,” I insisted as he fussed, and he glanced at me with an irritating amount of pompous disbelief.

  “They’ll notice,” he said so matter-of-factly, before picking up his bottle of beer. “Didn’t you tell me some girl tweeted last night about how different my hair looked different? And she was right; I had tried something new with it.”

  I blinked incredulously. “Why does it matter?”

  He shook his head. “KJ, it matters if they don’t like the way I look.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that.”

  “What do you mean?” He was genuinely clueless, taking a sip of beer as he stepped away from the mirror to drop the expensive tub of hair product into his backpack.

  “Devin, just a week and a half ago, it didn’t bother you that I was upset about you cutting your hair. And I know it was ridiculous of me to feel that way, but—”

  “Well, it was ridiculous,” he agreed with a patronizing nod. “It’s just hair.”

  I shook my head, staring up at him from my chair, cloaked by my disbelief. “You really don’t hear yourself, do you?”

  He sighed and crouched to the floor in front of me. “Baby,” he said gently, taking my hand in his, and there he was, hidden underneath all those new clothes and hair gel. The man I loved. “I know it’s difficult and different, but I’m really trying here. I’m trying to be someone that fans want.”

  “I know, Dev,” I said, nodding and working my lower lip between my teeth. Biting back the words I wanted to say: “What about the someone I want? What about what you want?”

  He reached up to brush a palm over my cheek, sifting fingers through my hair. “I’m going to miss you so much, you know that?”

  The last thing I wanted to do was think about my flight in the morning. Just the thought of it was enough to make me tear up and just as predicted, my eyes watered, and I shifted my gaze. To not look at him. To not torture myself with everything I was going to miss.

  “Sorry,” he quickly added, releasing my hand to cup my other cheek. “I shouldn’t have said anything, but … fuck, Kylie. I’m going to be away from you for months.”

  “I know. I don’t … I really don’t know if I can talk about it,” I said in a whisper, my voice choked. I hadn’t been without him for more than two weeks since we met thirteen years ago, and I was terrified of how badly that hole in my heart was going to hurt when it opened in his absence.

  “Why don’t you—” The door put a stop to his words as Richard threw it open without warning. Devin turned toward him and shook his head. “Rich, are you capable of knocking?”

  “O-oh, um,” he stammered, catching sight of my shitty attempt to keep my emotions at bay and Devin, holding my face between his hands. “Sorry to interrupt, but it’s showtime in ten.”

  Devin nodded once in reply and Richard retreated, granting us just a few more precious moments of solitude before the world began again. It had become par for the course. His alone time with me was minimal at best and was only when we were in our hotel room, or those minutes in the dressing room before he went on. Every other waking moment seemed to be dedicated to perfecting his look, changing his sound, taking pictures and band practice.

  It was the nature of the job, I knew that. But knowing that didn’t stop it from hurting any less.

  “As I was saying,” Devin said, continuing where he left off, “I was going to beg you to stay with me.”

  Again, I diverted my eyes from his, because fucking hell, just looking at him might’ve been enough to break me in half and I didn’t want to take my chances.

  “Dev, you know I can’t. I want to, I really do, but—”

  “I know, but ....” He hung his head and pulled one hand from my face, using it to pinch the bridge of his nose. “God, Kylie, Richard’s extending the tour.”

  My eyes squeezed shut. “What?”

  “By two more months,” he admitted. His voice was rou
gh and restricted, and my breath came out in a deflating gasp.

  “When were you going to tell me?” I questioned in a whisper.

  “I didn’t know how.”

  “God. That’s such a long time,” I croaked, raising my eyes to the ceiling.

  “I know, baby, but that’s why I want you to stay,” he said, taking my hands and squeezing them.

  “Devin, you know I can’t,” I persisted, hating myself for saying it. Hating that he wasn’t grasping it. “I have the business to run, babe. I can’t just stop everything because you have a new job, no matter how much I’d like to, and—”

  “Kylie,” he begged. Pleading me with wide brown eyes. “I just really don’t know if I’m capable of being away from you for that long. It’s fucking stupid, but … I’m almost afraid to find out.” He shook his head. “I don’t want it to become normal to not see you.”

  I thought about that—normal—and I couldn’t remember what the hell that word even meant anymore.

  My normal for the past few years of my life was to wake up to Devin every single day in the apartment we shared, and to find daisies on the table every Wednesday. To cook us dinner, to care for our cat, to live our lives as best friends and more recently, lovers. That was normal.

  Within a few short months, normal had become something chaotic. Something I couldn’t rely on and I wondered if he was more afraid of being without me, or finding out who he’d become if I wasn’t there.

  Maybe both.

  “We’ll talk later,” I promised regrettably and stood up, prying my hands from his. “You have to go on.”

  ♪

  The lights blackened and I stood in darkness, surrounded by a gyrating sea of strangers. Their energy choked me with anxiety as they screamed, shouted and whistled. They bumped into me, pressing my body against the guardrails and I struggled against them, sending my elbows back to keep them from getting too close.

  I was suffocating, but I needed to watch him. Before I couldn’t anymore.

  A guard with a flashlight noticed me, warding off the frenzy of girls crowding around me and grabbed my arm.

  “I got you,” he said in a gruff voice, hoisting me over the rail until I was safe, on my feet and separated from the insanity. He noticed the VIP badge around my neck and asked, “Do you know the band?”

  I nodded, catching my breath. “I’m with Devin.”

  His face revealed more shock than I expected. “What are you doing out here, then? These girls will eat you alive.”

  “I wanted to watch the show,” I explained weakly. I had always been in the front row. I had always been his biggest fan, but standing there, surrounded by younger women who could scream louder and longer, I felt like nobody.

  It had only taken two weeks for it to reach this point.

  He shook his head. “I’ll find you a place to watch from, sweetheart. Come with me.” His beefy palm gripped my shoulder and he led me to the backstage door.

  Climbing the stairs, I caught sight of Devin and his band members waiting at the side of the stage. With a turn of his head, he noticed me with my escort and told the guys he’d be right back.

  “What happened?” he asked urgently, pulling me from the security guard. “I got this,” he told the burly guy.

  “I’m going to show her where she can safely sit,” he said, and it almost seemed like he was scolding Devin.

  “Hey man!” Robbie shouted. “Let’s go!”

  “Two seconds!” Devin called back, never taking his eyes off me. “Get her a chair and put it at the side of the stage,” he told the security guard.

  “That’s not—”

  “Do it,” Devin said. “She sits in the front row.”

  “Look, I get it,” the guard said, hooking his thumbs into his beltloops. “You rock stars like impressing your flavor of the week with—”

  “Watch your fucking mouth,” Devin growled and shoved a finger in the guy’s face, and I reached up with both hands to grab his arm.

  I was regularly becoming a subject of rage for him.

  Maybe it was good I was leaving.

  “Dev, it’s fine. I can just sit somewhere else.” I pulled his arm down, squeezing my hands around him. Angry tremors passed through his veins and bones, but when he looked down at me, I saw nothing but defeat.

  “I need to see you, KJ. Please.” He pleaded with me, and his eyes revealed the sorrow the rest of him refused to show. “I’m not going to see you for a long time after tonight.”

  The security guard groaned, dusting a hand over his bald head, and he said softly, “Okay, look, I’ll let her hang out with me in front of the stage, okay? But if they get handsy out there, she’s going somewhere else.”

  Devin nodded gratefully. “Thank you,” he said, and then added, “Sorry.” The security guard returned the nod.

  “Holy shit, Devin!” Robbie growled. “Come on!”

  “I’m coming!” He looked down at me and bent to press a kiss to my lips. “You better be screaming the loudest.”

  I nodded, and I couldn’t explain why the tears pricked at my eyes. “I’ll try my hardest.”

  He flashed me his best smile and ran over to the guys, while the big security guard led me back out there and gave me the best spot in the house, with my arms folded on the stage.

  “You’re his girlfriend?” the guard asked, arms crossed with his back to the stage. Watching the crowd, watching my back.

  “Wife,” I corrected. It was our practiced line, it was our promise. As soon as he got home.

  He nodded, understanding. “Some of these girls?” He tipped his chin toward the swarming sea of estrogen. “They’d kill you if they had the chance, you realize that?” He was speaking warnings in a gentle voice, and I felt the shiver travel down my back. “I understand how things might have been before—this shit happens quickly sometimes—”

  “It’s been a few weeks since his first show,” I said, agreeing with a nod.

  “Right. It might be time to adapt. The more they catch word of who you are, the more they’ll do what they can to strip you of that title, you understand? I’ve seen some crazy shit in my time, and I’d hate to see it happen again.”

  I nodded again, my throat dry and hairy. “I’m going home after tonight,” I needlessly explained.

  “Good,” he nodded and turned toward the crowd, assuming his position as the nagging nausea made my skin crawl.

  I felt the heavy footfalls vibrating through the floorboards. From the gentle glow coming from backstage, I could see the shadowed figures of Robbie and his guitar, of Ty and his bass, and Sebastian at his drumkit. I heard the bass drum before it hit the speakers, and the crowd erupted in a tsunami of cheers. Ty came next, plucking at his strings and then Robbie with a continuous riff from his Fender.

  Then, there was Devin, walking out to the stage. I knew his gait. I had memorized it after years of living together and years of being best friends. When he strummed his electric-acoustic, the lights turned on to the overpowering shriek of three-thousand recently acquired fangirls.

  He stood six feet away from me, appearing bigger than his body on that stage, haloed by lights and a generous fog.

  “Orlando! How are you guys doing tonight?”

  The crowd cheered their response, and Devin’s eyes fell on me, smiling the smile that was always mine. It was only a few seconds, but in those moments, it was just Devin and me. We might as well have been back at Black & Brewed, with fourteen people packed around the little platform stage in the corner. I smiled back, clutching at my chest and mouthing an “I love you,” and I hoped he saw it under the blinding lights.

  Then, he whirled around with guitar in hand, stepping toward Sebastian’s gleaming drums with a hand raised in the air, as they counted down into the first song in the setlist: “Go Easy on Me.”

  I’m watching them come,

  I’m watching them go,

  I’m locking my heart, throwing away the key.

  I’ll be the shoulder,


  I’ll be the rock.

  But I need you to go easy on me.

  “That song,” Devin said, strumming the guitar lazily after the last notes had been played, “is about a girl I had the biggest crush on, a long time ago. I was friend-zoned to the third degree and she’d always come to me every time she got her heart broken.”

  Half of the crowd replied with an aww in unison and someone from the middle screamed, “I wouldn’t friend-zone you, Devin!”

  He continued to strum, smiling down at me. “Ninety-five percent of my songs are about chasing after her ass, so I have her to thank for all of that inspiration.” Most of the crowd laughed while a cluster somewhere mumbled something incoherent among themselves. “Actually, this next song is about her too. This is called ‘Edge of a Blue Existence.’”

  They shrieked as the lights blackened again in preparation of an explosive kick-off to the song he sang about my eyes. The one that took me back to that time beside the lake, and when the lights came back on, with an upbeat drumroll, I watched Devin toss something toward me. I watched it float through the hazy air and when the daisy landed a foot away from me, I cupped my hands around my mouth and shed my tears along with the fangirls.

  Except he was mine.

  He would always be mine.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Devin

  “That was fucking lit, man!” Robbie grabbed my shoulders and bounced a few times in front of me.

  I wiped my brow, stripped myself of the leather jacket that still didn’t feel quite right and dropped into one of the less-than-glamorous folding chairs.

  “Holy fuck,” I uttered, and Sebastian pushed a bottle of water into my hand.

  That crowd … that music …

  I had never felt so drained.

  I had never felt so alive.

  My eyes closed as I uncapped the bottle, tipped it back into my mouth and felt the cool liquid pour down my throat. To my side, I listened as Robbie flipped open his lighter and I was smacked with the signature scent of marijuana.