She lifts her glass with me. “To first dates.”
19
Ido not want to talk about that kiss. No clue what Devlin was going to say—probably something like,It was the worst kiss ever. I can’t believe that I pressed my lips to yours.Thanks but no thanks. I’m not interested in hearing that.
As far as I’m concerned, the kiss did not happen. It will go down in history as the Kiss That Never Was.
Exactly. It didn’t happen.
And the look on his face when I started talking about Storm. I know that look. That’s Devlin’s angry look. His super angry look.
“Why don’t you like Storm?” I ask when we’re back at the house. I’ve changed into my pajamas, which tonight is a sleeping T-shirt that stops at my ankles and has a picture of a sparkling waffle on it. I think it’s supposed to be magical or something. Oh well, nothing says sexy like a waffle. Sexy sleepwear at its finest.
If I’d let Nana pack my bag, she probably would’ve put in crotchless panties and a negligee.
Good thing I packed this bad boy myself.
Devlin throws a mountain of pillows onto the floor. I assume he’s going to be bedding down in his equivalent of Mt. Everest, My Pillow style.
“Why do I hate Storm?” he repeats, hooking his hands behind his neck and pulling his T-shirt off to reveal rippling muscles that are screaming to be oiled down by me.
What?
No. Nope. I will not be doing any rubbing of oil on Devlin’s body. But that doesn’t mean that someone shouldn’t. Seriously. His body is begging to be shiny and slick.
He drops his knees onto his pillows, and now I have to perch on the edge of the bed to see him better. So I scoot to the end as he lays on his mountain, arms tucked neatly behind his head, wavy dark blond hair smoothed away from his forehead.
“Why don’t you ask me something else?”
“Because I asked you that.”
He sighs, which of course means he doesn’t want to tell me, and which also means that I must know. Now.
He leans over on his side and tucks a hand under his head, supporting it. “Do you like him?”
Do I? Do I think the sun sets with him? Does he give me butterflies in my stomach? No. But that could come in time.
“I might be heading that way.” It’s not exactly lying and not exactly telling the truth, either. “As long as he doesn’t spread nasty rumors about me, then he’ll be better than some people.”
It’s a low blow, I admit, but it’ll keep Devlin from talking about that kiss. Bonus, it has the added effect of reminding us exactly what we are to one another—nothing. Just two people who need our powers back. Mine for the safety of all Castleview and Devlin’s because, well, because he needs it to help humanity.
A noble cause, even I’ll say that.
He frowns. “What do you mean, spreading nasty rumors?”
I roll my eyes and grab a billowy pillow, tucking it under my chest. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Come on, Devlin.”
Concern fills his hazel eyes, which look black in the low light. “No, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please enlighten me. You’re already making me sleep clothed; you can at least share your secret.”
I fluff the pillow beneath me and settle back onto it. “Do I really have to remind you of what you did?”
“Yes, you really do.”
This is the part that was the hardest to get over, and he doesn’t even remember it. “I can’t believe I have to tell you this,” I mutter. “But all right. Since you can’t remember.” I putcan’t rememberin air quotes, really layering on the sarcasm. I hope he can feel it like an anvil falling from a three-story window onto his head.
