Which was crazy, really.
I hadn’t had to do much other than allow for the passage of time to tick as it did without anyone’s interference. Devlin did the rest. Well, apart from the conversation I’d had with my dean to delay my MBA studies.
That had been easier than I thought, but news had spread around New York about what I’d gone through. It was one of the reasons why I didn’t want to leave the apartment. I knew exactly what they’d be thinking.
How could a woman rape a man?
Maybe, once upon a time, I might have thought the same thing...
Because Devlin was stressed, I took a further moment to rinse off before I hurried through getting ready.
The least he deserved for the past weeks of caring for me was that I didn’t stress him out pre-flight.
He’d never said if he was nervous about flying or if it was just a quirk of his, and I hadn’t asked.
It hit me then that I should have asked.
Brow furrowed as I dragged on my jeans, sneakers, and a baggy jersey sweater that would be comfortable for the flight, I moved out of the bathroom the second I was ready.
Staring around the bedroom that had become a second home to me, I packed up the last few things I needed while I was onboard, like my USB wires and my iPad, and set everything in the vanity case Devlin had bought me.
He’d thought of everything. Hadn’t even delegated it to Lizzie, because one night in bed, I’d watched him grumbling over his computer as he looked at luggage.
I’d never imagined it was for me, but being presented with cases worth fifteen grand for a quick trip across the pond had definitely come as a surprise.
Even if, I wasn’t ashamed to admit, it was nice to be carrying Louis Vuitton once more.
Maybe I shouldn’t let him buy me stuff, but it wasn’t as if he’d asked for permission. Devlin didn’t do things like that. He came to a decision then expected everyone to follow through with it.
In this, I was more than okay with him taking charge.
I didn’t think I would be okay with that forever, because I wasn’t the kind of guy who always said yes to appease people—I wouldn’t be with Devlin if that were the way of it—but for now, I liked that he was handling everything.
I needed that.
Needed him.
With my small case in hand, I headed into the front hall and placed it with the other luggage. Then, wandering toward the kitchen, I poured myself a bowl of cereal that I quickly ate as I sought Devlin out.
Not unsurprisingly, he was on his computer, scowling at something or other, and unaware that I was watching him.
Did he realize that he’d been my rock?
I hoped he did.
Those first few days, there’d been a kind of internal wail in my head, one that I couldn’t escape. It made me want to tear through my skin, to get rid of the agony that was behind it, but how could I?
She hadn’t hurt me.
Physically, I was fine. It was why I was struggling with mirrors right now. I looked like Micah—I just didn’t feel like him.
“Thought we were in a hurry,” I told him softly as I spooned up Cheerios.
“We are.” He cast me a look, pinpointing me exactly which let me know he’d been aware of me the whole time. I hadn’t hovered in the doorway, had moved deeper into the study, toward the back wall of David Hockney photos he had hanging there.
“Why are you so anal about flying anyway?”
He shrugged. “Force of habit. Plus, I like the lounges.”
“You do?” I frowned. “Really?”
“I have good memories of traveling with Mother and Uncle Forrester. He used to insist we be punctual because she’d take forever otherwise.” His mouth twisted, and I knew he was about to change the subject. “You didn’t get me any?” he complained, pointing at my bowl of cereal.
My lips twitched. “Don’t lie. You already ate.”
A twinkle gleamed in his eyes. “I’ll never say no to cereal.”
“I’ll bet that’s a secret you’ll take to your grave. The mighty Devlin Astley eats Honey Nut Cheerios.”
“The world can be shocked and awed another time,” he said dryly, before his computer started humming then abruptly turned quiet.
Moving around his desk, he started out of the office, and retreated to the kitchen where he poured himself a bowl twice the size of mine and proceeded to eat it.
“I think that’s a mixing bowl.”
He shook his head. “It’s my cereal bowl.”
I had to laugh, watching him as he hummed, wondering how I hadn’t figured out that all the cereal in the cupboards was for him. Not me. I’d just never thought Devlin would like the stuff.
With a body like his, he couldn’t exactly have a sweet tooth.
I liked that I was wrong.
There was still so much to learn about each other, but things like these were painless, but a joy to store away.
“Are you ready for the flight?” he asked, his gaze on the cereal.
“I’m ready to be in the UK,” I corrected.
“You are? You’re excited to visit?”
“You know I am,” I told him softly. “But mostly, I’m just ready to be away from here.” I heaved a sigh. “I don’t think I’ve thanked you enough for these past couple of weeks, Devlin.”
“You don’t have to,” he muttered gruffly, putting his bowl on the counter in front of him as he stared at me with eyes that I knew held as many battered emotions as mine.
He was going through a war of his own—I hated that, even if there wasn’t much I could do to resolve it.
“Yeah, I do.” Unable to stop myself, I moved over to him, and slid my hand behind his neck. “When someone sticks by you, you should never take that for granted. Especially when your whole family has dropped you—I know that nothing can ever be taken as read.”
I watched as grooves furrowed into his forehead, before he murmured, “You know the guilt I feel is real, Micah.”
“I do. It’s tangible,” I whispered gruffly.
“But the worst thing about the whole situation is seeing you spiral down and not being able to help, and knowing that I’m partly to blame.
“I have the side of me who sees that, and who wants to help. Then, I have this other side of me, the one who stares at you and sighs and turns into a vapid fan boy because you’re so pretty, who just wants to hold you and never let go—”
My tongue felt too big for my mouth as I quickly inserted, “I like the sound of that.”
He shook his head. “You think you want that, but you don’t. I’m trying not to overshadow you, trying not to cling—and all of those things are very unusual. I’ve never given a fuck before.” His jaw clenched. “Never wanted to. Everything about you makes me feel like I’m living on a live wire. You’re young. You must want to have fun, and I’m not exactly that.
“I’m pretty sure you’ve always got one foot out of the bloody door, and I know that’s to be accepted in your situation—”
I knew my eyes were on stalks because it was to be ‘accepted’ that I’d have one foot out of the door?
Frowning at him, uncertain why he’d think that, when I was the one who should be feeling that way, I pushed myself into him, not stopping until I was flush against him and he had no choice but to hold me.