What he’d said still made butterflies dance in my stomach. Not with unease, but with relief.
I felt the same way.
And it was crazy.
He’d said it himself—I barely knew him.
He barely knew me.
But in the shortest space of time, I’d opened up to him in ways I had with very few people, and he knew the ins and outs of some sordid home truths that I hadn’t been ashamed to admit to him.
He was Devlin Astley, however. And even though he bitched about his family and the Hoo-ray Henrietta he feared they’d make him wed, he never outright said he wouldn’t eventually concede to their wishes.
From experience, I knew what someone would do for their family. For years, I’d tried to shove myself inside the closet because of my parents, so why wouldn’t Devlin do something equally as drastic?
So, even if I felt sure he meant every word he said, what was to stop him from pulling back? From doing his duty—when that was all that seemed to matter to his dying father?
All of that turbulence, thrown in with the fact that I loved going to sleep in his bed, even if we’d only slept because neither of us were back to being one-hundred percent, adored waking up in his arms in the morning, enjoyed cooking in his kitchen at night, then teaching him the art of enjoying Naruto even though he totally didn’t get the classic anime, and how he didn’t love Kakashi was beyond me…
My major issue? He was starting to become my haven, and that was the most idiotic move I could ever make when we weren’t formally an item.
I bit my lip at the thought, craving that so desperately it hurt. I had no desire to play the field, not when he was all I wanted.
Sighing, I eyed the time and saw that it was approaching seven. I wanted to text him, tell him about an annoying email exchange I’d had with a graphic designer, bitch about regular shit people bitched about with the people who mattered to them, but I was afraid of getting further entangled.
When that was exactly what I wanted.
Had it been so complicated with Chelsea?
Grimacing, I picked up my cell and, because I needed to connect with him, tapped out: Me: You feeling okay?
He’d asked me if I wanted some food brought to me, and when I’d said yes, and had asked if he was going to eat, he’d told me he couldn’t face anything.
I was pretty sure he should still be at home, even if he wasn’t infectious or anything. Devlin’s hours made mine look sane, so why wouldn’t he be hit harder?
Devlin: I’m tired, but I still have to play catch up. I can have Gian take you back to my place if you want?
Me: No, I have some work left as well.
Devlin: Just tell me when you want to leave?
Me: I should probably go back to mine—I can’t keep wearing your suits. Plus my fish will need food.
Devlin: You could pick up some of your things and bring them to mine. That commute is too much for you when you’re still under the weather.
My lips twitched. Me: Is that British Bullshit I’m reading?
Devlin: It’s me being a bad spin doctor. Lol. Bring the fish too. I think I can spare the room.
Me: I’m tired enough to take you up on that tbh.
Devlin: You don’t have to stay late, Micah. For God’s sake, they’re not supposed to be working you this hard. I had a word with Rhode about it. It’s not on.
Brow puckering with annoyance, I replied: Me: You’re kidding?! Why would you do that?
Devlin: Because I care.
I gritted my teeth.
Devlin: Because it’s my company and they’re treating you like a workhorse, and it’s WRONG.
Me: I’m learning so much from her.
Devlin: You’re learning that corporations bleed their employees dry. I didn’t realize this was what they were doing with interns. It’s indentured servitude. Well, not on my watch. Not now I know.
Unsure whether to be irritated or touched, I glowered down at my cell phone, then jumped when a voice purred, “Lover’s quarrel?”
Twisting around in my seat, I wanted to glare at her for sneaking up on me, but you didn’t glare at Rhode.
At least, not without losing an eye.
“Sorry?” I rumbled, studying her warily and taking note of the two coffee cups in her hand.
Knowing full well she never made her own coffee, to say I was stunned summed it up.
When she shoved one at me, murmuring, “In appreciation for all you’re doing. It’s hard rallying the troops when we’re working on a deficit.”
I didn’t want the coffee—if anything, I wanted some red wine. I didn’t give a damn if it was supposed to be room temp, either. I wanted it chilled, and preferably by the bottle. But it’d be impolite, so I reached out for the coffee with a false smile and said, “I really appreciate that. Thanks, Rhode.”
She shrugged. “My pleasure.” Her gaze drifted from my phone to my computer. “Is there anything wrong?” Her lips primmed. “I know Mr. Astley has taken you under his wing, and he complained to me the other day about your workload. So, is there anything I can help you with?”
What was I supposed to do? Snitch on Cassandra?
I just had over two weeks left in this place, she had to stick around and work with Rhode for the foreseeable future. Poor bitch.
Funny how, at the start of this internship, getting a job under Rhode had been my goal. Now I knew her, I was ready to get away from her. She gave me the creeps.
“It’s fine,” I said brightly. “I enjoy my work.”
She did that thing Chelsea had picked up on after watching Next Top Model—smizing. Only, Rhode didn’t look alluring. She just looked like she had a tampon up her ass.
Wanting to smile at the thought, I grabbed the coffee and took a deep sip. It was stronger than I was used to, really bitter as well, so I almost choked on it as she laughed.
“I made it strong enough to stand your spoon in. I figured that would help keep you alert.”
“I can tell,” I rasped.
“Go on, drink up,” she prompted when I put it down, my intention to leave the damn thing alone.
When she just stayed there, hovering, I frowned at the cup, picked it up, and downed it in one painful gulp. If my stomach was susceptible to ulcers, then she’d just given me at least three. But it was worth it if it got rid of her.
She granted me a benevolent smile. “That’s my special blend. Gives me a boost at this time of the evening.”
And with that, she waved and tottered off on those damn heels of hers.
As I stared at her, wondering what the hell she was up to, I had to shake my head. Rhode was one of those people whose genius led to madness—at least, that was my reasoning for her level of weirdness.
Scanning the floor and spying precious few people around, Martin, in the far corner who was packing up his bag as well as Ramona who was all ready to go and who was talking to him, I realized it’d just be me and Rhode for the time being.
I should probably be grateful she’d returned to her office.
Determined to sort out the last few emails I had on my list of things to finish tonight, I dove into my work, not wanting to stick around for much longer.
With that in mind, I quickly shot Devlin a text, telling him I’d be ready in a half-hour, and dove into my work. The sooner I was out of here, the better.