‘Well I didn’t know who Jess and Hope were then did I? I just saw you with a guy.’ He shoves me back playfully before lying back down so he’s staring at the snowmen on the roof of our fort once more. This allows me some space to breathe.
‘Just to clarify, Jess and I have never been together. It’s been him and Hope since day one.’ I lift our book from my stomach and place it to the side of me carefully then swivel my hips so it’s my turn to prop myself up on my elbow. I watch as Devon closes his eyes and breathes in deeply and then I take a brave breath myself.
‘I never apologised for shouting at you and letting you leave the way you did. I wanted to run after you, but I felt defeated. I couldn’t stop you going. I messed up, D. I should have replied to your messages, but I thought it was better to just forget about you. I wanted more, I didn’t want to be pen pals; I wanted you with me. I just sort of retreated in on myself and was angry with everyone. If it wasn’t for Hope and Jess, I don’t know what I would have done at college. I dated guys but I never felt like I could be me. I didn’t know how to act, so my relationships never worked out.
‘All this time I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. But I was so confused. I wanted you back, I wanted you here, but I was still mad at you. I wasn’t myself around other men. I guess I was thinking about them leaving before they’d even left.’ I pause, scared to say more and so I lie back down to gather my thoughts.
Back then, when I was dating, my thoughts would often drift to Devon. I thought relationships were supposed to be easy, comfortable and bring a sense of familiarity. I missed being able to be completely myself around a guy and at ease in their company. Then the guys would leave, and it would hit me again – that’s what they all did, that’s what Devon had done too and I would feel hopeless.
But then when I bumped into him a week ago, it felt like something more was bothering me. Had I been angry because of something other than his simply leaving? When dating, did my brain turn to Devon because it was Devon I wanted to be dating? This whole week my feelings have been all over the place. Having him next to me just feels right. He fits. Is this what he means by our love being stronger? More than friendship?
My heart rate begins to pick up as I feel Devon’s fingers interlock with mine down by my hip. His thumb brushes over my hand. Does he understand it too? That electricity is back. A powerful surge of passion takes over my entire body and mind. I sit up ready to make the boldest move I have ever made: I want to kiss Devon, I really want to kiss him. I turn, move forward and bend down towards his face when Devon mirrors my actions causing us to meet halfway with a cracking headbutt.
I blink as my eyes fill with tears, my forehead pounding. I let out a yelp, which again Devon matches, though his is more of a deep grunt.
Trying to balance with one hand on my forehead and the other on Devon’s chest, I shuffle my weight so I’m sitting cross-legged and when I open my eyes D’s are but an inch away. I send a prayer to Odin himself that Devon had been thinking the same thing as me, as with the throbbing in my forehead I don’t think I will be quick enough in making up an excuse to get me out of this one.
‘Were you about to kiss me?’ we ask in unison, our voices turning to a whisper at the end. Heat radiates off both our cheeks. Devon’s hand is now gently soothing my forehead. A dimple forms in his right cheek, his eyes crinkle with a smile that lights up his whole face and then his lips find mine. My hands find his face and hair as I melt into the softness of him. His movements are gentle. One hand moving to the back of my head, the other on my waist pulling me closer to him in a way that’s both passionate and sweet.
Our kisses are a slow and steady rush as we tumble down into the blankets. Devon’s hand moves to the top of my shorts as our hips connect. ‘I prefer the tiny pants.’ He breathes, rubbing his nose against mine. His eyes look at me so attentively as he runs a finger over the drawstring of the shorts I remembered to put on this time. A laugh escapes my tingling lips as I trace my palm over his five o’clock shadow. Stronger? I do believe our love may be surpassing the strength of Hercules right about now.
19
A rush of heat sweeps over my body. My eyelashes flicker until I manage to force them to stay open – my twinkly lights catch me off guard with their brightness in the dark room. I don’t have a clock in my spare room so I have no idea of the time. All I know is that my stomach is rumbling after the evening’s events. I don’t fancy any of the snacks Devon and I brought up to the fort, so as quietly as I can I wriggle free of Devon’s sleeping limps that are wrapped around me, securing my warmth. I push myself up off the floor and sneak to the landing, grabbing my shorts on the way out.
The heating hasn’t come on yet, so the house is chilly. I rub my hands together and do a little shiver as I make my way to the kitchen. The clock on the cooker reads four-forty-five, which surprises me as I don’t usually see this side of six a.m. if I can help it, but this morning I feel oddly sprightly. I rub my hands over my arms to warm myself up as I set about boiling the kettle and pulling out ingredients from the fridge and cupboard. I know what I’d like for breakfast and the thought simultaneously makes my stomach growl and my lips curve up into a small smile. Pancakes: my dad used to make Devon and I pancakes whenever we had sleepovers. They’d fill us up and give us plenty of energy to battle any bad guys throughout the day, my dad would tell us.
While I let the batter rest for ten minutes or so, I retrieve some blueberries and raspberries from the fridge along with whipped cream, then some leftover chocolate slivers and a jar of Nutella from the cupboard and place them on the dining table before I grab my coffee mug and wander through to the living room. I flick on the switch and my Christmas tree illuminates. A gasp escapes my lips. Every. Time. Eddie isn’t awake yet so I leave him to rest and perch myself on my favourite spot – the cushion on the window ledge, so my view is either the tree or my street, and well, both when I catch the reflection of the tree in the glass. Outside, snow lays thick on the ground and there are more flakes falling. I smile into my coffee feeling the peacefulness of the season when I hear shuffling.
The tree demands all the light leaving the rest of the room in a shadowy darkness, but my Spidey sense is tingly. I can feel Devon’s presence. Sure enough his large figure appears from around the tree. He doesn’t talk, just stands behind me wrapping his arms around me, taking in the scenery out the window. The holly wreaths and colourful bauble wreaths on the rows of houses make the street look idyllic enough for a Christmas card – maybe that could be next year’s Christmas fair idea? A few moments pass before Devon drops a kiss on the top of my head, making my toes curl under. I turn to him and wrap my legs around his waist, which receives a low groan and a flustered smile. I know he’s blushing, but contradictory to his rosy cheeks I can just make out his features under the gold glow of the tree and there’s a confidence in his eyes that is ridiculously sexy.
‘Breakfast?’ I croak out, unable to take my eyes off him, even though I’m sure it’s going to leave a crick in my neck.
Devon takes the coffee mug from me and places it on the window ledge then slides his hands under my bum, scooping me up with ease. My legs are still wrapped around him like a koala. ‘Yes, please,’ he says, before kissing me. His kiss is tender yet passionate, a mixture of a slow but hungry pace. It sends goose bumps over my entire body. One of my hands rests against his chest; the other I have on the back of his neck. He’s gorgeous and strong and home.