Page 50 of Inseparable
“Dev,” I whisper, placing my hand on his arm. “Wake up.”
He grumbles in his sleep, snuggling closer to me. The arm swathed across my stomach moves a little higher, brushing the underside of my breasts. My cheeks turn hot. I shake him a little more firmly this time. “Dev. Can you hear me?” He presses fully against me, and my skin flares up at the tell-tale hardness pushing against my leg. Lordy, could this get any more humiliating. “Dev!” I hiss, more urgently. “Wake up!”
His eyes flutter open, and he smiles when he sees me. “I thought I was dreaming,” he mumbles, his fingers tracing over my face. “Man, you’re so beautiful, Ange. Like that chick whose face launched a thousand ships, only more gorgeous.” He nuzzles my neck. “And you smell fucking divine too.” He inhales loudly, and two red spots darken my cheeks.
Mom struggles to contain her grin.
“Eh, Dev. We have company. You might want to tone it down a notch or ten.”
Mom clears her throat, getting up and leaning over the bed. “I need to check you over.”
Lazily, he turns over onto his back, smiling at my mom. “Hey, Nat. You’re beautiful too, and I can totally see where Ange gets it from.”
Mom laughs lightly, lifting his arm and wrapping a blood pressure monitor around it. “Why thank you, Devin. That’s the nicest compliment anyone’s paid me in a long time.”
“Well, that’s a darn shame. Beautiful girls should be told they’re beautiful a million times a day.”
“Oh, dear God,” I exclaim, slapping a hand to my forehead. “Are you still drunk?”
“Sober as a judge,” he proclaims, flashing me one of his trademark shit-eating grins. Tears spill from my eyes, and an anguished sob escapes my mouth before I can stop it. His grin fades. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
Mom pretends not to listen while she takes his temperature and carefully probes the cut on his forehead and his tender ribs.
“You could’ve killed yourself last night.” My tears instantly give way to rage. “You fucking idiot! What the hell are you doing with your life?!”
“Sweetheart,” Mom cautions. “I know you’re upset, but shouting isn’t going to help anyone.”
Devin pulls himself into an upright position, remembering to shield his erection with the comforter in time. His expression is grim. “You’re right, and I don’t know.” He scrubs a hand over the thick stubble on his chin. “I know I’m messing up, but I don’t know how to fix it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Devin’s words, and his helpless expression, are still on my mind Monday morning as I drive with Ayden to school. I was on edge all weekend, trying to figure out a way to explain Friday night to my boyfriend. No matter what way I spin it, I shared a bed with Devin, and I know Ayden is not going to be pleased about that. He was already in a foul mood when he arrived home late Saturday evening, so I chickened out, and I haven’t told him yet. I’ll tell him when he’s calmer, I promise myself.
The school morning passes by uneventfully. I haven’t seen Devin around, and I’m guessing he didn’t show up today, understanding there is no excuse he can offer which would adequately explain the state of his face except the truth. The less people who know about that, the better. Since he left our house Saturday morning, I’ve texted him a bunch of times to ensure he’s taking his pain meds, getting enough sleep, and drinking plenty of fluids. Luc has been taking care of him, and he texted me from Dev’s phone telling me not to worry.
I’m walking through the cafeteria, tray in hand, when Becky steps in front of me, blocking my path. Planting her hands on her slim hips, she glowers at me. Nothing new there. My gaze roams over her minuscule hot pink top and short leather mini in disgust. I wear more clothes going to bed, and while I know the weather is getting milder, I can’t fathom how she can walk around half-dressed. The more I think about it, the more Luc’s words ring true: she’s lording something over Devin to keep him by her side. I’d put money on it. “You’re in my way. Please move.” I keep my tone neutral, not wanting to get into this here.
She prods me in the chest with her finger. “I told you to stay away from him! He’s mine.” Her face contorts as she growls, and her lips pull into a menacing sneer.
“That’s really not a good look on you,” I say, watching Ayden getting out of his seat.
Her hands clench into fists at her side. “I know he spent the night with you on Friday, so don’t even try to deny it.”
My face pales as Ayden stares at me in shock. “It’s not what you think,” I say over Becky’s head, but she assumes my comment is directed at her.
“I know exactly what it is. You fucking skank.” She shoves me, hard, and I lose my balance, falling back onto my butt, the contents of my tray upending all over me.
Rage like I’ve never encountered before splutters to the surface as the crowd in the cafeteria joins Becky in laughing at my expense. Ayden is practically frozen in place, staring at me as if he doesn’t know me. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Mariah approaching, but I thrust the tray away and hop up before she can stop me. My brain switches off as I lunge at Becky, and I smirk at the startled expression on her face before we tumble to the ground. She reacts fast, grabbing fistfuls of my hair and yanking firmly. Ignoring the stinging pain in my scalp, I launch my fist in her face, laughing as she screams. Then we’re rolling on the floor, surrounded by classmates who are chanting and calling our names as we throw punches and claw at each other. I shriek when she digs her long fingernails in my cheek and draws blood. Fury darkens my eyes, and I grab hold of her shoulders, squeezing hard. I’m ripped off her in a flash when a muscular arm wraps around my waist, pulling me upright. I hit out, thrashing about, screaming and shouting obscenities, as she does the same while Josh attempts to restrain her.
“Lina,” Ayden commands in a stern voice. “Enough.”
“What the hell is going on here?” Principal Wells demands to know, appearing in our line of sight. The crowd parts, instantly muting.
“She attacked me!” Becky screeches. “It’s all her fault.”
“You pushed her to the floor first, Becky,” Ayden confirms. “You started this.”
“In my office. Right. Now.” The principal’s tone brokers no argument, and she isn’t doing anything to conceal her frustration or her anger.
