Page 4 of Inseparable
He cups my face, peering deep into my eyes. “You’re way too good to me. You should hate me.”
My brow furrows. “Why on earth would I hate you?” Devin is trampling all over my heart, but he doesn’t know that, and it’s not like he’s doing it on purpose. He can screw whomever he likes, and it’s none of my business. Doesn’t matter that every girl, every kiss and every caress I’m witness to, adds another scar to my heart. Outwardly, there is no reason why he should feel like this, so I don’t understand what’s going on in his head.
“Because this… this divide between us is all my fault.”
I skim my hand up his arm, and he flinches slightly. Heat seeps from his skin through my fingertips, igniting my blood and fueling my desire. I gulp, trying to put a leash on my lust. “It’s all our faults, and it’s not too late to fix it.” I peer into his eyes and start drowning. We stare at one another, and an electrical current charges the air. My chest heaves up and down, and his gaze flits to my mouth. His heart thuds more powerfully under my touch. Butterflies swarm my gut as I grapple with the situation. His eyes darken, and his pupils dilate as he continues to stare at my mouth. I don’t know what’s going on, but the tides are changing. Fate is swirling—I sense it, feel it, as if it’s corporeal.
Isthis just me or is he feeling something too?
He jerks back suddenly, and the connection is broken. Heat floods my cheeks, and I shake my head of all errant thoughts. Thinking such thoughts will only earn me a world of trouble, and I could do without that this year. “I’ll get the snacks,” I mumble, exiting the room as quickly as my feet will carry me.
CHAPTER TWO
Devin pops the can on his soda, tipping it into his mouth. I pull the blanket up under my chin in a feeble attempt to ward off the incoming nighttime chill. We are seated on adjoining bean bags out on the balcony, sharing a blanket. A bucket of popcorn and a bag of chips rest between us. Overhead, a smattering of tiny stars twinkles in the night time sky. There is something almost reverential about nightfall that has always drawn me in. No matter how shitty the day has been, I can sit out here on my balcony looking up at the stars and everything feels right with the world again. Perhaps that’s why I’m such a demon in the mornings. It goes against my natural predisposition.
Getting to share this tonight with Devin is the icing on the cake. The only thing that could make it perfect is Ayden, but I’m not willing to go into battle a second time tonight on his behalf. A sorrowful pang hits me in the chest.
“Do you ever wish you could go back in time?” he asks without looking at me. “To return to when we were kids and we thought we were invincible?”
I tap a finger off my chin as I think about my reply. “Yes and no.” He twists his head to face me, the unspoken question lingering at the back of his eyes. “You know I’ve always been more invested in the future,” I start explaining, and he nods.
“Because you have a set goal. You’ve always known what you want to do. It’s one of the things I admire about you.” A light flush stains my cheeks, and he chuckles. “Still can’t take a compliment, I see.” I shove his shoulder, and he laughs. Then his expression turns serious. “I envy you on that, you know. Your purpose and your determination. Your ability to make plans.”
“You can have that too, Dev. It’s not too late.”
The look in his eyes speaks volumes. He doesn’t want to talk about this. It’s the same old story every time college comes up in conversation. Ayden and I already have early acceptances to the University of Iowa, but Devin has no concrete plans in place yet. He’s smart. Abnormally so for someone who regularly skips class, but he always hands in his assignments on time and his steady 4.0 GPA is impressive. He has plenty of options if he chose to exercise them. “I want you to attend UI with us. It won’t be the same if you’re not there.”
He looks away, and I sigh. There’s no point continuing this conversation—it’ll only be one-sided, the way it always is when the subject of college and the future crops up. Silence engulfs us for a bit and then I clear my throat, returning to the original topic. “But sometimes I do wish I could go back.” His head snaps around. “Everything was much simpler when we were kids.” Hormones and confused feelings weren’t a factor back then. Basic physiology didn’t matter. Ayden and Devin were my best friends, and it didn’t matter that they had penises and I had a vagina.
Nothing mattered except the connection we shared.
Then we grew up, and everything turned to shit.
“Damn straight,” he concurs. “They were the best years of my life.”
Damn it. Now he has me all melancholy, and I don’t often go there. I watch his throat work overtime as he drains the rest of his drink in one go. “Thirsty?” I chuckle.
“Yep,” he says, popping the P. He snatches a handful of chips and starts munching.
“Did you have dinner?” I ask, most likely already knowing the answer. He shakes his head, reaching for the bag again. I push to my feet. “I made lasagna and there’s tons left. I’ll heat you up some.” I always cook extra for Devin and his younger brother Lucas. Ever since their mom took off the summer we turned eleven, parenting has been significantly lacking in the Morgan household. It’s only gotten worse the last year since Cameron, Devin’s older brother, joined the marines. He’s been deployed overseas ever since and doesn’t make it home that often. Devin has assumed more of a parental role with Lucas, but it’s hard on him. Between school—when he makes it there—fight nights at the boxing club, and his part-time job at the local gas station, he’s not home a lot, and family dinners aren’t a staple in the Morgan house. Their father works long hours at a nearby factory, and he spends most nights drowning his sorrows in one of the local bars. Even when he’s home, he keeps himself scarce. I can’t remember the last time I was in Devin’s house or the last time I saw his father. It’s been that long. But Mom was insistent after Mrs. Morgan left and especially after social services paid a few visits. She forbade me from going over there, making it known Devin and his brothers were welcome in our house anytime, but I wasn’t to step foot in his. As I’ve grown older and heard the rumors about his dad’s womanizing, drinking, and fighting, her request makes complete sense. But, as a kid, I sulked a lot over that one rule.
The Morgan boys stayed over quite regularly those first few years after their mother left, but I never really thought much about it. Mom stepped in again after Cameron left, letting Devin and Lucas know they are always welcome to join us for dinner. If they don’t stop over, I usually refrigerate the leftovers in case they turn up later.
Case in point.
He leans back, looking at me upside down. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Shush, asshole. You know the score, and you should’ve said something before.”
“I don’t want to be a burden.” He spins around on the beanbag, pinning me with an earnest look.
“Since when?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood. Things are rather strange tonight.
“Since ever.” His tone is sullen, his face impassive.
I crouch down in front of him. “What’s wrong, Devin? I know something is up. You can talk to me. I won’t judge.”
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Can’t a guy hang with his best friend without the third degree?” he snaps, and I lurch back as if slapped. A bitter taste floods my mouth. “Shit!” He jumps up as I straighten my spine, quickly disguising the hurt from my face.
