“It won’t,” I growl.
I’ve worked too hard to make sure that it doesn’t come true. I forced myself to give up the one person that I wanted, all to keep her safe. It’s nearly killed me these years, and it’s damn well likely to kill me now as I help give her to the one man I hate. But she’s better off with him than she is with me.
Is she?
Yes, she is. Storm might be a lot of things, but he won’t hurt her.
Even if all I want to do is bury my nose in her hair, run my fingers down her legs and fill her up with my?—
A smart knock comes from the door. Better put my hard-on away before Blair sees.
“Come in.”
Blair pushes open the door. She’s got her witch face back on. I guess our little heart-to-heart last night hasn’t changed her feelings about me.
She runs a hand down her thigh, showing off tight jeans that hug those luscious hips. The jeans pair well with a fitted sweater that makes my mouth water. I can just imagine peeling her clothes off her, one piece at a time. It takes all my self-control not to wolf whistle at her.
I smile. “Looks like you beat me. I’m almost ready.”
Her gaze zeroes in on my chest. I haven’t closed all the buttons of my shirt yet, and she licks her lips. The hunger in her eyes matches the hunger that I feel. But before she gives herself a moment to let it sink in, she blinks and quickly snaps her head in the opposite direction, focusing on Hands.
Her witch look is back. “Good morning,” she tells him.
Hands bows.
“I got a message from my aunt,” she tells me.
“Oh?”
“We’re meeting in the gardens behind the house for a game of spell ball.”
“Spell ball? This should be fun.”
“Yep,” she says sharply. “You ready?”
She’s still looking at Hands, who jumps down, clearly ready to go.
“Not you, big guy,” I tell him. Hands’s fingers sag. “Next time you can come. Don’t worry, we won’t be gone long. Just long enough to get Blair married to her dream man.” I close the last button. “Now I’m ready. Would you like to head over? We can grab some toast on our way out the door.”
“Yep,” she replies quickly, still not looking at me.
“Then let’s go.”
12
What do I care if Devlin doesn’t want to be with me? I don’t, because I don’t want to be with him either. He destroyed me in high school. Yes, I know that I’m beating a dead horse, but sometimes I just want to keep beating it until it’s dust.
So why is it bothering me so much what I overheard him say to Hands? That he’ll never be with me again? And why does my chest ache now?
It doesn’t matter. I hate him, too. We’re only doing this whole stupid me-living-with-him thing so that I can be with Storm. That’s it. End of story.
The ride over to my house (yes, Devlin wanted to drive, so I insisted we park a good block away so that no one would see us get out of a car together), I’m silent. So silent.
He’s not talking, either, which is no surprise since he doesn’t want to be with me.
I’ve got to stop thinking about this.
Fine. I will. It will be easy.
