Devon pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes. “Paige has a big mouth.”
She laughed. “Can you blame her? That soundedhawt.” She waved a hand in front of her face. “Woo, buddy. If you were anyone else, I’d be asking for a demonstration.”
He pushed up and walked over to his bag, grabbing his water bottle.
“Oh, don’t be mad, Devon—I’m only giving you a hard time. Kind of.” She spun on her butt to face him and crossed her legs. “My point is, most women can’t fake that kind of intimacy, and if that happened in front of people, I can only imagine what happened behind closed doors.Call herand find out the truth. What’s the worst that can happen? She says she doesn’t feel the same way and you’re still miserable?”
Devon lowered the bottle and sighed. The little spitfire had a point. He should find out for sure. Hearing her tell Braedon it had all been a lie had felt like a physical blow. It had literally stopped him in his tracks just outside Braedon’s hospital room.
He’d been excited, hearing Addison’s voice. He’d planned to talk to her in private, tell her he wanted to take some time off and go to D.C. until they figured out a long-term plan. If they had to do the long-distance thing for a while, he’d make it work, but he wanted to explore what they had together.
And then she’d told Braedon it had all been pretend for the mission. But if Dani was right, and she’d told him that because he was her brother, then Devon had walked away from her.
Fuck. She probably thought he was the biggest dick in the world.
“Damn it.” He dropped his water bottle and dug out his phone.
“Atta boy!” Dani clapped once. “You do that, and I’m going to go find my next victim.”
Devon put the phone to his ear and watched her leave, shaking his head. She enjoyed beating up on them alittletoo much.
The phone rang and rang, finally going to voicemail. Shit. Was she screening? Should he leave a message? Would she listen to it if she was screening? Was it weird to call and not leave a message? The call disconnected before he could make a decision.
Well, fuck. Should he call back immediately and leave a message or wait? Was it stalkerish if he called back immediately? Should he text instead? What if she had her phone on silent?
Christ. When did this shit get so difficult? He gritted his teeth and called her again, composing what he would say while it rang, and lost his entire train of thought as soon as he heard the beep.
“Addison, I think I screwed up. Actually, I know I screwed up, but I’d like to explain. Call me, please. Or text me. Whichever. I just want to know you’re okay. Okay? Bye. Oh! This is Devon. Fuck.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. He was an idiot, but damn it, he was an idiot in love. As soon as he thought it, he knew it was true. He loved Addison. Had been infatuated with her for years, but knowing the real her—her strength and loyalty, her willingness to honestly be herself—he fell in love with her.
Fuck it. He was going to stalk her. He shoved his feet back into his shoes, grabbed his bag, and headed upstairs to find Angie.
“Hey, Angie, I need a favor,” he said, finding her in her corner. Graham had offered to close off her area, but she’d said she liked it open. A furry face stepped out from under the desk and looked up at him.
Addison’s dog. Or…Angie’s dog, since she was keeping it.
“Sure, whatcha need?” Angie asked.
“Can you see if Addison has another number, other than her cell?”
“I have her home phone number,” she said.
That was easy. “You do?”
“Yeah, I pulled it at the very beginning. I have her address, too. Do you want that?”
“Uh…sure.” If worse came to worst, he’d drive up to D.C. and confront her in person.
Angie clapped. “Yay! You’re going to get your girl and quit sulking around the office like a little boy who lost his favorite toy.”
“Have I really been that bad?” he asked.
“Devon, I say this with all the sincerity in my heart, you’ve been a serious buzzkill since you got back.”
“Well, hopefully this will fix it.” He took the sticky note she held up with Addison’s information on it.
“And….” She pulled a piece of paper from under her keyboard. “Damn it. Jane won the pool.”
