“Because this … this divide between us is all my fault.”
I skim my hand up his arm, and he flinches slightly. Heat seeps from his skin through my fingertips, igniting my blood and fueling my desire. I gulp, trying to put a leash on my lust. “It’s all our faults, and it’s not too late to fix it.” I peer into his eyes and start drowning. We stare at one another, and an electrical current charges the air. My chest heaves up and down, and his gaze flits to my mouth. His heart thuds more powerfully under my touch. Butterflies swarm my gut as I grapple with the situation. His eyes darken, and his pupils dilate as he continues to stare at my mouth. I don’t know what’s going on, but the tides are changing. Fate is swirling—I sense it, feel it, as if it’s corporeal.
Is this just me or is he feeling something too?
He jerks back suddenly, and the connection is broken. Heat floods my cheeks, and I shake my head of all errant thoughts. Thinking such thoughts will only earn me a world of trouble, and I could do without that this year. “I’ll get the snacks,” I mumble, exiting the room as quickly as my feet will carry me.
CHAPTER TWO
Devin pops the can on his soda, tipping it into his mouth. I pull the blanket up under my chin in a feeble attempt to ward off the incoming nighttime chill. We are seated on adjoining bean bags out on the balcony, sharing a blanket. A bucket of popcorn and a bag of chips rest between us. Overhead, a smattering of tiny stars twinkles in the night time sky. There is something almost reverential about nightfall that has always drawn me in. No matter how shitty the day has been, I can sit out here on my balcony looking up at the stars and everything feels right with the world again. Perhaps that’s why I’m such a demon in the mornings. It goes against my natural predisposition.
Getting to share this tonight with Devin is the icing on the cake. The only thing that could make it perfect is Ayden, but I’m not willing to go into battle a second time tonight on his behalf. A sorrowful pang hits me in the chest.
“Do you ever wish you could go back in time?” he asks without looking at me. “To return to when we were kids and we thought we were invincible?”
I tap a finger off my chin as I think about my reply. “Yes and no.” He twists his head to face me, the unspoken question lingering at the back of his eyes. “You know I’ve always been more invested in the future,” I start explaining, and he nods.
“Because you have a set goal. You’ve always known what you want to do. It’s one of the things I admire about you.” A light flush stains my cheeks, and he chuckles. “Still can’t take a compliment, I see.” I shove his shoulder, and he laughs. Then his expression turns serious. “I envy you on that, you know. Your purpose and your determination. Your ability to make plans.”
“You can have that too, Dev. It’s not too late.”
The look in his eyes speaks volumes. He doesn’t want to talk about this. It’s the same old story every time college comes up in conversation. Ayden and I already have early acceptances to the University of Iowa, but Devin has no concrete plans in place yet. He’s smart. Abnormally so for someone who regularly skips class, but he always hands in his assignments on time and his steady 4.0 GPA is impressive. He has plenty of options if he chose to exercise them. “I want you to attend UI with us. It won’t be the same if you’re not there.”
He looks away, and I sigh. There’s no point continuing this conversation—it’ll only be one-sided, the way it always is when the subject of college and the future crops up. Silence engulfs us for a bit and then I clear my throat, returning to the original topic. “But sometimes I do wish I could go back.” His head snaps around. “Everything was much simpler when we were kids.” Hormones and confused feelings weren’t a factor back then. Basic physiology didn’t matter. Ayden and Devin were my best friends, and it didn’t matter that they had penises and I had a vagina.
Nothing mattered except the connection we shared.
Then we grew up, and everything turned to shit.
“Damn straight,” he concurs. “They were the best years of my life.”
Damn it. Now he has me all melancholy, and I don’t often go there. I watch his throat work overtime as he drains the rest of his drink in one go. “Thirsty?” I chuckle.
“Yep,” he says, popping the P. He snatches a handful of chips and starts munching.
“Did you have dinner?” I ask, most likely already knowing the answer. He shakes his head, reaching for the bag again. I push to my feet. “I made lasagna and there’s tons left. I’ll heat you up some.” I always cook extra for Devin and his younger brother Lucas. Ever since their mom took off the summer we turned eleven, parenting has been significantly lacking in the Morgan household. It’s only gotten worse the last year since Cameron, Devin’s older brother, joined the marines. He’s been deployed overseas ever since and doesn’t make it home that often. Devin has assumed more of a parental role with Lucas, but it’s hard on him. Between school—when he makes it there—fight nights at the boxing club, and his part-time job at the local gas station, he’s not home a lot, and family dinners aren’t a staple in the Morgan house. Their father works long hours at a nearby factory, and he spends most nights drowning his sorrows in one of the local bars. Even when he’s home, he keeps himself scarce. I can’t remember the last time I was in Devin’s house or the last time I saw his father. It’s been that long. But Mom was insistent after Mrs. Morgan left and especially after social services paid a few visits. She forbade me from going over there, making it known Devin and his brothers were welcome in our house anytime, but I wasn’t to step foot in his. As I’ve grown older and heard the rumors about his dad’s womanizing, drinking, and fighting, her request makes complete sense. But, as a kid, I sulked a lot over that one rule.
The Morgan boys stayed over quite regularly those first few years after their mother left, but I never really thought much about it. Mom stepped in again after Cameron left, letting Devin and Lucas know they are always welcome to join us for dinner. If they don’t stop over, I usually refrigerate the leftovers in case they turn up later.
Case in point.
He leans back, looking at me upside down. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Shush, asshole. You know the score, and you should’ve said something before.”
“I don’t want to be a burden.” He spins around on the beanbag, pinning me with an earnest look.
“Since when?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood. Things are rather strange tonight.
“Since ever.” His tone is sullen, his face impassive.
I crouch down in front of him. “What’s wrong, Devin? I know something is up. You can talk to me. I won’t judge.”
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Can’t a guy hang with his best friend without the third degree?” he snaps, and I lurch back as if slapped. A bitter taste floods my mouth. “Shit!” He jumps up as I straighten my spine, quickly disguising the hurt from my face.
I’m a master at hiding my true feelings from Devin, so it’s a cakewalk. Doesn’t mean the rebuke hurts any less. I’ve seen others bear the brunt of Devin’s temper in the past, but it’s rarely ever me. The only time we’ve ever snapped at one another is in the middle of a heated argument.
“I’m sorry, Ange. That was uncalled for, and I didn’t mean it.” He gulps again, averting his eyes. His hands land on my shoulders. “What you think of me matters so much. More than you could ever realize.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
He runs the tip of one finger across my cheek in a move that’s decidedly tender. “Your skin is so smooth,” he whispers.
My heart flutters wildly in my chest, and that same intense dark look shimmers in his eyes. He leans forward, and my heart starts somersaulting. Gently, he presses his forehead to mine, closing his eyes as he wraps his arms around me. He emits a musky, woodsy scent that is fresh and inviting, all male, and pure Devin. The warmth of his
body heats every part of me, and I close my eyes, savoring every thrilling second.
Devin is usually very hands-off. The polar opposite of Ayden who is hugely touchy-feely, thanks to growing up in a very loving environment surrounded by three younger sisters. “It’s why I do what I do. Why it has to be this way,” he rasps.
“You know I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“Weirdo.” Throwing back his head, he laughs. “Seriously, Dev. You’re acting even more weird than normal tonight.”
He feigns hurt. “The lady doth wound me.”
I hold onto his forearms as I peer up at him. “I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “I don’t want you worrying about me.” He removes his hands from my waist, and I want to cry out in protest.
“Then stop all the drinking and fighting and screwing around.” The words pop out of my mouth unbidden, but I’m not sorry I said it. Too often I’ve bitten my tongue around him, for fear of pushing him away, but I can’t stand back and watch him push that self-destruct button anymore. “You’re throwing your life away.”
A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Don’t go there. Not tonight. Please. I just can’t hear it tonight.”
I scan his face, and that earlier vulnerability is back. I don’t know what’s happened to turn him all melancholy and defenseless, but I’m not going to press him right now. For the first time in ages, it’s like the old Devin is in the house, and I’m not going to push the issue and ruin things.
“Okay.” I nod, giving him a gentle shove. He plops back down onto the beanbag. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll bring you up a plate.”
I trudge down the stairs with a frown. Devin has always kept a part of himself hidden away. From an early age, both Ayden and I realized that, and we learned to accept it, but, now I wonder if we should’ve been more insistent when we were younger. Forced him to share, because whatever the hell his demons are, they are eating him alive.
I’m watching the microwave circle round and round while my thoughts wander. The click of the door wrenches me out of my head, and I whip around as Ayden strolls into the kitchen. “Perfect timing.” He grins, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Enough in that for two?”
“Didn’t you eat either?” I shake my head as the microwave pings.
“I did, but what can I say? I’m a growing boy.” He smirks, patting his flat stomach while leaning back against the counter. The movement causes his shirt to stretch across his impressive shoulders. Where Devin is lean with defined muscles in all the right places, Ayden is a chiseled rock-hard specimen of the perfect man. Years of football training have honed his body into a solid block of muscle. From broad shoulders to a tapered waist with an eight-pack and huge muscular thighs, there isn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on his body.
How he manages to eat like a horse and still look like a modern-day blond, spikey-haired Greek God is beyond me. “Like what you see, Lina?” he teases, grabbing an apple from the bowl and sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. His blue eyes blaze with mirth.
“In your dreams, loser.” I nudge him in the ribs. “And you’d better stay on my good side if you’re looking to be fed.”
He straightens up, saluting me. “Yes, ma’am.”
I snort while carefully removing the hot plate from the microwave and placing it on the countertop. “Man, you are such a loser.” I cut another piece of lasagna and place it in the microwave. “Heads up, De—” I’m interrupted before I can finish my sentence when Devin strolls into the kitchen, talking over me.
“Are you trying to …” He stops talking the instant he spots Ayden.
Ayden’s playful persona is shelved, and he folds his arms sternly across his chest. “What are you doing here?” His tone is clipped.
“Same thing you are, no doubt.” Devin returns Ayden’s hostile glare.
“No chicks lined up tonight?” Ayden asks in a derogatory tone. Tension cuts through the air, and my shoulder muscles stiffen while I add salad to Devin’s plate. I silently count to ten in my head. “Surprised you remember how to get here.”
Devin sends Ayden a filthy look, and that same unspoken truth flits between them. “Funny,” Devin drawls, fisting his hands at his sides. “Considering I live right next door. And I’d hardly forget where my favorite girl lives.” He plonks himself onto a stool, continuing to shoot daggers in Ayd’s direction as I slide the steaming plate in front of him.
“That’s a fucking joke,” Ayden retorts, cracking his knuckles. “You barely give her the time of day anymore unless you want something.”
Devin’s mouth twists into a snarl, and he looks ready to swing for him. “Really? Screw you, asshole. Saintly Ayden who barely looks sideways at any other girl. Want to tell us what that’s all about?”
“I don’t have to explain anything to you, jerkoff. Why are you even bothering? Have you finally run out of girls to bone and Lina’s a last resort?”
Everything locks up inside me at the insult, and I’m glad I have my back to them so they can’t see how devastated I am by Ayden’s comment. The microwave pings and I reach for it as if on autopilot. My whole body is shaking internally and there’s a lump the size of a bus wedged in my throat.
The stool screeches as Devin stands up. “Don’t you fucking dare disrespect Ange like that,” he yells. “Take that back or you and I are done. Completely.”
Ayden rushes to my side, taking my hands in his. “Lina, I didn’t mean any disrespect to you. You know how I feel about you. How important you are.” I can’t keep the hurt off my face this time, and he curses, squeezing my hands tighter. “This isn’t about you at all. This is between me and him.”
I shove his hands away. Anger is a low burn in my veins. “That is bullshit and you know it. You are both shutting me out again and I’m sick of it. We can’t even be in the same room without you two bickering about stuff I know nothing about!” My gaze bounces between them. “Was it a conscious decision to keep me in the dark?”
Devin sits back down. “If you needed to know, we’d tell you, baby doll, I promise.”
“Do not fucking call her that! She is not one of your whores,” Ayden roars, and I just want this night to be over.
“Stop.” I rub a tense spot between my brows. “Please, just stop it. For the first time in forever, we are all together on a Saturday night. I’m begging you to call a truce. Even if it’s only for tonight. Let’s forget all this crap and just hang out like we used to.”
My plea falls on deaf ears—scrap that, make it arrogant, pigheaded, idiotic ears. The guys continue to face off, and this is easily the singular most awful moment of my life. My two best friends have been at odds for the last three months, and I can’t bear it. I can’t bear to lose our awesome-threesome. To see everything fall apart because they are too stubborn or too stupid to talk things out. I want to scream in frustration. Either that or bash their obstinate heads together.
Can’t they see they are ruining everything?
Devin lowers his chin and starts wolfing his food. Ayden continues glowering at the back of his head, and I lose my cool. Yanking Ayden’s lasagna from the microwave, I slap it onto a plate and shove it in his chest. “Okay, fine. Have it your way. You are both complete and utter assholes. Finish your food and get the hell out of my house.”
Then I storm out of the kitchen without a backward glance.
CHAPTER THREE
“You didn’t need to do it!” I hiss, kicking the bark in frustration as I haul ass up the tree. “I’m capable of punching Adam all by myself you know!”
Devin chuckles, swatting my butt as I pull myself up into the treehouse. “I know that, Ange, but you need to at least pretend you’re a girl. You can’t go around punching all the guys.”
“Says who?” I demand petulantly, sittin
g down on one of the beanbags and crossing my legs. “And last time I checked I am a girl.” I roll my eyes.
“We were doing you a favor,” Ayden cuts in, sitting down beside me. He pulls the blanket out from behind him, draping it across my shoulders. “You’ll get in trouble in school, and your mom would be pissed.”
“You’re both in trouble now, and I don’t like that. I don’t want you getting into trouble on my account.”
“Suck it up, princess,” Devin says, handing me a can of soda from our secret stash. I growl at him. He knows I hate it when he calls me that. “We’re always going to protect you, so you might as well get used to it.”
“And Adam can’t put his hand up your skirt and expect us not to punch him,” Ayden supplies, justifying their behavior.
My anger fades at their words. If there’s one thing I’ve always counted on, it’s my two best friends jumping to my defense. But I wonder if things will be the same when we’re older. Things are already changing. Like the way I can’t stop blushing when Devin stares at me in that intense way of his, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed how cute he is. A lot of the girls at school are checking out both my best friends, and I don’t like it. They’re mine, and no one else can have them.
“You won’t always be there to save me,” I say in a quiet voice.
“Who says we won’t?” Ayden asks. “We’ll always be best friends.”
“We should make a pact,” Devin suggests, and my eyes light up.
“Yes! A blood pact, like in the movies!” I rub my hands in glee.
Devin’s eyes gleam mischievously as he raises his hand to high-five me.
“No way, guys. No blood. We’re not vampires.” Ayden folds his arms sternly, and Devin and I burst out laughing.
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