Daring Devlin (Lost Boys #1) - Jessica Lemmon Page 0,77
my pad and pencil next to the flickering jar candle on my coffee table. I’d drawn a series of squiggles and shapes. My creativity wasn’t what it used to be.
Bone tired, I curled up on the couch and pulled a blanket over me, and turned on the TV.
A knock yanked me out of sleep. I blinked at the TV, volume so low I had to read Joey’s lips on Friends saying, “How you doin’?”
I sat up and the knock came again. I leaned forward and blew out the liquefied jar candle, worrying at how careless I’d been to sleep with it lit. I shooed away a curl of smoke as I walked for the door. Through the parted blinds I blinked at the mirage. A dark figure stood on my doorstep wearing a black leather coat. His inky hair fell over his face, one arm leaning on my doorframe.
Déjà vu.
I pulled open the door and saw that Devlin wasn’t a mirage. He stood, solid and very real, on my doorstep. He raised his head, those beautiful eyes locking onto me. The snow had stopped, but a bitter wind cut past him and blew into my apartment, bringing his tantalizing scent with it.
No blood or split lip this time. That night felt like it’d happened years ago.
“Hey.” He straightened from his lean.
“Hey.” I was trying to decide if I was pissed or not. I should be. He’d rejected me, ignored me. Other than him asking my best friend if she was driving my car, I wondered if I’d even crossed his mind lately.
Meanwhile, I’d been suffering. I’d fallen in love and falling out was proving challenging. More so, with the moon outlining his silhouette.
“You moved,” I said, bracing against another gust of frigid wind. “Some guy who was painting the walls told me.”
Devlin should have been the one to tell me. He could have called. He could have come over. He should have come for me, dammit. I was worth it.
He stared me down for a moment before he said, “Tasha and I have a bet.”
“I thought you didn’t bet.”
“She says you’re better off with me, and I say you’re better off without me. I figured you’re the only one who can settle it.” His dark eyebrows jumped. “First time in my life I’ve ever hoped to lose a bet.”
What… was I supposed to say to that? When I opened my mouth, a confession fell out. “I don’t need you.”
After all, I’d proven I could survive without him. I’d been breathing in and out, going to work, feeding myself. All my basic survival skills were intact. It wasn’t much of a life but what choice had he left me?
“I’m actually—I’m… fine,” I said, not feeling fine at all. But I was strong. And I wanted him to know that his leaving hadn’t broken me.
“Good. That’s good. Neediness is… it’s debilitating.” His eyes traveled over my face. “Believe me. I know.”
My heart hammered as hope rose like a helium balloon was inflated inside my chest.
“I haven’t needed anyone in a really long time,” he continued. “It’s a lot like desperation, that feeling. I don’t like it.”
That made two of us. I’d been positively weakened by him and look at me now.
“But I need you.” He held my gaze for a drawn-out moment while my heart continued thrashing against my ribs. “More importantly, I want you. So bad I can taste it. So, maybe, even if you don’t need me…” He blew out a breath that sounded unsteady, and then finished that sentence in a very unexpected way. “Fuck, I’m freezing my balls off out here. May I?”
“Of course. Sure.” I stepped aside and let him in. Then I shut the door, and we were standing in my living room. Together. Just the two of us in my cozy apartment, the faded fragrance of vanilla and smoke lingering in the air from the candle.
He opened his mouth but I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear what he was going to say. I’d decided to get over him; had been trying my damnedest to get over him. And then he shows up on my doorstep saying he needs me?
“Can I get you a beer? I need a beer.” I pulled the knot on my robe tighter and shuffled into the kitchen in my socks. I’d almost made it to the kitchen when his arm lashed around my front. He tugged me back against his solid chest and set his lips to my ear.