Devlin was Erik Jones.
Oh my God.
Chapter 15
Performance is vulnerability.
DEVLIN
I couldn’t move, immobilized by shock and horror. My body felt rigid with icy fear. It coiled in my gut, ready to bite like a viper. Had that really just happened? I glanced at the shut door. I examined my still naked body, the towel held in place over my face. Had I really chosen to cover that over my …
“Jesus,” I swore out loud.
This was not what I needed. I had tried to set boundaries and expectations with her last weekend. All tossed out the window in a matter of three seconds. And now this.
I did a double take down at my naked body. I sported a half-woody.
“Seriously?” I asked it.
It jumped in response.
Why did she have to look so pleased? The shocked “O” of her mouth. Those blushing cheeks. The greedy gaze that kept flicking back over me. My cock jumped again. I clenched my jaw and threw the superfluous towel to the floor.
Outside the door, the shadow of her feet remained.
I flicked off the exhaust fan. The fan that had blocked out her knock. I could almost feel her standing right outside the door. Somebody else might have closed their eyes and left in a hurry, maybe a dramatic squeal, but not Kim. No, she mentally ate up the real estate of my body like it was the last thing she might ever do.
I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on the door. I was rock hard now.
“Ahem,” she cleared her throat and knocked.
Go away, go away.
I wasn’t sure who, or what, I was talking to at this point.
“Um, Devlin?”
I let out a long slow breath. “Yes?”
“I just want to apologize.” Her tone was far more composed than how I felt.
“Okay.”
“I did knock. And I didn’t mean to barge in. Down here or on your family dinner. I was just dropping off my cello, like we discussed. I was about to leave but then your brother sent me down—”
Brothers were overrated. I was going to murder Wes.
“But he said I should tell you that dinner was ready. Oh, yeah. That’s what I was gonna say. Dinner is ready,” she added with a nervous laugh.
“Okay.”
“Also.”
Oh God.
“You should know that I saw your penis.” Her business-like tone distracted me for a flash before the words sunk in. My eyes popped open. I hadn’t expected her to own up to it. Couldn’t we ignore the elephant—or rather, the eggplant—in the room?
“I didn’t mean to do that either.” But her voice lifted, and I could tell she was fighting a smile. “I mean, not at first. But you know. Penis. In your face. How are you not going to look?” She laughed again.
“Are you laughing?”
“Yes. Sorry.” As second later she gasped, “No. Oh, God—no. Not at your penis. You have a lovely penis. You should know. I’ve not seen too many penises … penii? But anyway, it was a very nice penis.”
“Please stop saying penis.”
“Should I say cock? Or dick?”
I was wrong before. Now I was rock hard. I bit my lip to keep my hand from lowering to stroke. This was torture. We were maintaining boundaries. We weren’t supposed to be thinking about physical attraction. I roused some anger to help find a balance. It was either get angry or pull open that door and kiss her.
“You can go now. I’ll be upstairs in a minute,” I growled.
“Okay.”
The shadow of her feet remained, and her internal debate was audible.
“What, Kim?”
“It’s just … I think it’s important to talk about these things. Clear the air before it gets awkward.” Her tone was cautious, almost clinical.
“I don’t see how you constantly mentioning my dick makes it less awkward.”
“Heh. Yeah, true. Well, just so you know. I’m fine. And this was one hundred percent my fault. I don’t want you thinking anything … um, weird. It’s just a body. A nice body, a very nice body. You should know that. You probably do know that. You have eyes …”
“Kim.”
“Okay. Sorry. Again. Leaving now.”
I let out a long breath. My hands braced the door. I was fighting a lot of different feelings. I could rip the door open to let her look her fill. Or punch the mirror to distract myself with pain, an easily identifiable sensation.
I groaned. “Kim. I can see you’re still there.”
“Right. I know. Just one more thing …” Her voice went up an active higher.
“Yes?”
“I saw your face.” She said it so quickly that the words ran together.
Anything else I’d felt was instantly drenched with ice cold dread. My throat closed so tight I couldn’t take a breath in.
“And, um. I understand now. I mean, not that you need me to understand. But I get it. And I want you to know. I would never tell anybody your business, okay? I’m not like that. I know how it feels to have everybody know the worst about you … ugh, not that your face is the worst. I’m going to stop. Okay, in summation—you have a lovely body, and I won’t ever mention this again. So there’s no reason to feel uncomfortable.”
“Right.” Not uncomfortable at all.
She sounded genuinely concerned, but I couldn’t think of anything past my own fear in that moment. Dread made me sick. What did this mean for us working together? Her voice was peppy and light, but what were her real thoughts about seeing me fully? If I could see her face, maybe it would be clearer. I wished so many fucking things had gone differently in the last five minutes. Any vain sense of pride I’d found in her words were instantly squashed.
“Okay. Well, I’m going to go home. I’ll see ya in the morning.” She kept her tone light, but I sensed her wounded feelings in the clipped words.
Finally, her shadow moved from beneath the door. I couldn’t hear her retreat, but it felt like a warm blanket being tugged off in winter. I took a deep, steadying breath. She had talked to me when she could have cowered and pretended it never happened. She was trying to be mature about a ridiculous situation. I was in a position where I should follow her example.
I scrambled to wrap a very large towel around my torso and pulled open the door. “Wait.”
She stopped halfway down the hall and spun towards me. The backs of her fingers had been pressed to her cheeks and she dropped them like she had been caught doing something bad.
“You’re right. This doesn’t have to be weird,” I called out to her.
Her eyes were wide. I couldn’t tell if she was trying not to move her eyes over my body, still half exposed, or if she was trying not to react to my face.
“Good,” her voice went higher. She wasn’t blinking. Her hands were fisted. She was trying so very hard.
I couldn’t help but smile.
Her eyes widened.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. I just … I was thinking you looked like your brother just then.”
The smiled fell back off my face. “Makes sense.”
We both took three mirrored steps toward each other.