“Keiran just brought up he was at the party, and Scott casually mentioned he took you home cuz you weren’t feeling a hundred percent up to driving.”
“You know what? Fine. Devon took me back to get my car, fed me, made me some hangover drink. I took a nap, and we baked after. That’s it. He also sent me a couple of cat memes today. Happy now?”
We also had the hottest sex ever, and he randomly kissed me on the forehead on Sunday, too, like a weirdo, but it was oddly sweet.
She didn’t say that. She was still trying to process what the hell had gotten into him. She’d tracked his every move after that kiss. He hadn’t said a thing as they’d removed the perfect cube-shaped cake from the fridge and proceeded to roll out the black fondant squares they were putting around the cake so they could stick the different coloured squares too. Those were made of fondant as well. Reba had thrown him several sidelong glances as they’d cut out the smaller squares. Devon didn’t even look at her, just continued to work, diligently measuring and drawing the grid lines, so they knew precisely where to place each square.
She had focused on his hands, mind wandering back to the moment he had touched her neck right before he had pressed his lips to her forehead. That had been a mistake. The oven wasn’t even on, yet the kitchen had felt heated.
Devon had clearly retained a grasp on the control that had previously been in shambles while she was unravelling bit by bit. The urge to swipe the whole cake off the table and beg him to have her right on top of the counter had gotten so strong. The only thing bringing her back to reality had been the sting of her teeth digging into her bottom lip.
“Well, that’s sweet,” Remi said, dragging her back to the present.
“He was being a decent human being. Do I need to give him a medal for that?” she asked a little sharply.
Cherisse and Remi exchanged glances, doing that silent communication thing. Annoying soulmate behaviour, which Reba usually found adorable as hell, but not today. Not when she was being asked to explain herself when she didn’t even know how to verbalise what was going on.
“Okay, so you don’t like being wooed, is that it?” Cherisse asked gently, making her feel like an ass for her harsh tone.
This was no different than how she had teased Cherisse about Keiran or Remi about Maxi. Yet, coupled with Trina’s words, she couldn’t help feeling like everyone thought they knew how she should feel better than her. It scraped at that one insecurity she had, the one she didn’t look at too closely, preferring to slap some glitter on it to make everything nice and shiny.
The one where she thought her family was right. That maybe all she was was simply a colourful plaster she had put on.
Instead, she decided to focus on what Cherisse had said. “Being wooed?”
“Yeah. You do know that’s what he’s doing, right?”
“I…no.”
“Does Devon even like cat memes?”
“He ignored them all when I sent a few months ago. I don’t think he gets them.”
“But who loves them? You do,” Cherisse pointed out.
“So what? Lots of people do. That doesn’t mean anything.”
“What else has he been doing?” Remi piped up.
Forehead kiss forehead kiss forehead kiss
Her mind wouldn’t let her forget that, apparently. He had also done something else that she had been ignoring, but should she mention it? She bit into her lip to stop from blurting it out. It still felt like it wasn’t real.
“Oh, he definitely did something else.” Remi pointed at Reba’s mouth. “Tell number one. Lip-biting.”
“I do not have a tell,” Reba insisted.
“Just spit it out. If it’s nothing, then it shouldn’t matter.”
“Fine. He left me something in my bag. I found it randomly. I don’t even know what it’s supposed to mean. It doesn’t rhyme, but I suppose it could be a poem? I don’t know.”
“Show us,” Cherisse said.
She pulled the mystery note from her bag. She had found it after getting home on Sunday. Had read it so many times because the shock still hadn’t quite worn off. It had been going round and round in her head since then.
Lightning strikes. Embrace it with open arms. The beautiful chaos.
Cherisse looked up from the piece of paper. “Did he write this himself? Are these his actual words?”