Eleven

Charli

 

As I make my way down the steps outside the library, I’m expecting to find Keagan waiting for me.

It’s been two weeks since my unchaperoned ride on the subway. That day had caused friction between us, and it had made me reconsider my actions. He’d been waiting for me after my shift, and the moment I’d noted his tense shoulders and seen the set expression on his face, I’d known he was angry.

We’d gone back to the apartment without so much as a signed ‘hello.’ I’d assumed the subject was closed since he wasn’t speaking to me, but as soon as we’d entered the apartment, Keagan had let loose on me with a long, emotional tirade over how worried he’d been. Not once had he mentioned Devlin, and as our conversation had unfolded, I’d began to realize just how much Keagan cares—even if he is being paid to be around me.

I’d quickly acknowledged his concerns, but I had also shown him Devlin’s last text. I’d watched his expression as he’d read it, and he’d turned crestfallen. Much to my surprise, he’d reluctantly backed off, stating that if Devlin didn’t care anymore, he couldn’t stop me.

It was the torn expression on his face that had made me rethink my behavior, and in that moment, I’d let go of my need to ride the subway alone. I’d wanted to prove myself, and I think I had—but not in the way that I’d wanted. I told myself that it was just a stupid subway, and if Keagan would be happier to tag along, I might as well let him. It wasn’t worth causing him unnecessary distress. Plus, he’d probably follow me anyway. He’s the first friend I’ve ever had, and his feelings are more important than my need to prove myself to Devlin Kade.

I’m almost to the bottom of the stairs when I snap out of my thoughts and find Devlin waiting for me instead of Keagan. The sight of him is so unexpected that I stumble on the last step and clumsily pitch forward.

Quick as lightening, Devlin’s there to steady my arm. As I regain my footing, his cologne or aftershave seductively swirls around me, invading my senses. Why does the man have to smell so damn good? I’m also conscious of his fingers that are now wrapped around my bare arm. His touch causes goosebumps to spring to life on my skin even though the temperature today is pleasant.

My face warms, and when I look up, I’m once again mesmerized by those slate eyes of his. As our eyes lock, my emotions waver. I’d actually missed this big brute of a man. I don’t know why since he makes me so mad, but the lack of contact the past few weeks had been disappointing. Toss in the guilt over how many times he’d called me unappreciative, and I’ve been feeling kind of bad for how I’d been treating him. Especially since he’s never gone out of his way to harm me.

Devlin slowly releases my arm and takes a step back so that he’s no longer in my personal space.

Now that I can breathe once more without inhaling his scent, I sweep my eyes over him, taking in his navy business suit that makes his eyes look lighter today, almost silver. He’s such a strikingly handsome man, and I feel like a clumsy dwarf compared to him. Upon exiting the building, I’d undone the fastenings holding back my hair, and now it tumbles down my back in unrestrained waves. My blouse is probably wrinkled in places, and my black pants have a coffee stain on them from when I’d taken my break earlier. Thankfully, the stain isn’t all that noticeable.

When my eyes focus on Devlin’s face once more, I find him staring hard at me, and I begin to tense. Our last conversation hadn’t ended on good terms.

Devlin blinks when he notes my mounting tension, and then his face begins to relax. “Hungry?” he asks.

He’s asking me to dinner? Suspicion flares. What is he up to? I dart a look over his shoulder, and sure enough, the limo is parked at the curb. I know better than to set one foot inside that vehicle.

When I turn back to Devlin, he begins speaking once more. “You may choose the establishment.” His eyebrow quirks. “I suppose we have to walk?”

The instant I read his lips, I begin to relax. The ball is in my court, and I’m the decisionmaker again. I can handle that. Though there’s something in his gaze that tells me this isn’t like the last time. He doesn’t look angry, he looks…tolerant? He’d sought me out for a reason, and now I’m curious.

I give him a cautious nod and start down the sidewalk. He immediately falls into step beside me. I’m very much aware of him, but he makes no move to carry on a conversation, and I’m content simply to walk for the next few blocks.

Last time, I’d wanted to make him uncomfortable. This time, I want to choose somewhere nicer, but not too nice. Devlin’s not radiating those controlling vibes today, and some part of me wants to meet him halfway. If he can rein it in, I can restrain my need to always do the opposite of what he wants.

Five minutes later, we enter a fast food restaurant that offers carryout, but also has plenty of seating for those that want to take a moment to enjoy their meal. The scent of fish and burgers has my mouth watering, and my mood brightens at the thought of eating. After being homeless for two months, I will never take food for granted.

As expected, Devlin refuses to order anything for himself. I decide on batter-fried fish and a side order of fries. Before Devlin can consider paying for my meal, I quickly hand the cashier a twenty.

After I’m given a number to set on our table for when my order is ready, we find a booth in the back of the restaurant beside a window overlooking the sidewalk outside. It’s evening, so the restaurant is busy, but Devlin appears much more composed this time around.

As we each settle in opposite sides of the blue and white booth, he barely spares a glance at the little boy running past our table. Instead, his attention is completely fixated on me as he adjusts his striped tie so that it’s not touching the table’s surface.

I open my purse and pull out my phone, and in the corner of my eye, I spy Devlin slipping his phone out of his suit pocket. I text, You’re not hungry?

He scans the text and looks up at me. “I typically eat later than this,” he explains.

I’d like to send him a quip about how the restaurant I’d chosen probably doesn’t meet his usual standards, but I refrain from it. So far, we’re both being cordial to one another, and I don’t want to ruin it. Instead, I watch him inquiringly as I reach for my soda and take a sip. We’re here because of him, so I’m content to sit back and patiently wait to find out what he wants.

Indecision wars on his face, and his brows furrow. Something’s on his mind, and I wait to see what it is. “Do you mind if I ask you some questions?” he asks. His expression reveals he’s uncomfortable, and I’m blown away that I can see his emotions. He’s typically closed-off and indifferent. Today, he’s acting more like a human than a bossy robot. I like it.

I nod in response to his question, and I wonder why he’s so uneasy. He’s proven plenty of times that my deafness doesn’t faze him, so it can’t be me. It’s not the restaurant either, because he’d barely looked around or paid much notice to the employees. No, most of his attention has been directed my way. It must have something to do with the upcoming conversation, and I wait to see what his first question will be.

His eyes roam my features slowly, and then he asks, “Do you mind if I ask about your deafness?”

I’m not sure what I was expecting. Maybe something to do with my current circumstances? Or something about the apartment or Keagan? Discussing my deafness has never bothered me, so I drop my eyes to my phone and send, Ask away.

He looks pleased by my response, and right before my eyes, he begins to relax. “May I ask how it happened or came to be?”

I text, It’s a birth defect.

His eyes hone in on mine as if he’s trying to see inside my mind. “You were born without the ability to hear?”

Yes.

He hesitates. “Would it be rude of me to ask if you can speak?”

Amusement builds and I text, Yes, but I’ll answer anyway. Yes, I can speak. I choose not to. I don’t elaborate or go into detail. He doesn’t need to know why I don’t like to use my voice. I’m not certain where this conversation is leading, and I’m reluctant to open myself up to him. I’ll answer his questions as honestly as I can, but that’s where it ends.

He must sense that the topic is closed, and he doesn’t press further. “You mentioned you were from Philadelphia. Will you tell me about your life?” He looks genuinely interested to know more.

This is such a turnaround from prior conversations. I’m accustomed to him giving orders and arrogantly assuming I’ll do as he says. His sudden appearance today has caught me off guard and thrown me somewhat. This feels like one of the ‘getting to know you’ conversations that I’ve had with Keagan. Why has Devlin suddenly switched tactics?

He’s waiting on my answer, so I focus on my phone. There isn’t much to share. I grew up as a ward of the state. Once I graduated and turned eighteen, I was on my own.

Devlin frowns upon reading my text, and his eyes lift to mine. “Were you booted out of the system? Wasn’t there some kind of program to help integrate you into the community?”

I reply, No.

Something twists in his gaze. “Is that how you became homeless?” he asks.

I had a car, but it was stolen.

I watch as he reads my text, and then I’m distracted as my meal arrives. I smile kindly to the young woman, and after she bustles away, I situate my meal in its basket and open the tartar sauce. After reaching for my plastic fork, I glance at Devlin. I’d like to eat, but I can’t eat and text at the same time.

He motions for me to go ahead.

As I drop my eyes and focus on my meal, I’m uncomfortable and a little self-conscious. He’s being nice today, so it feels weird to be eating in front of him. Last time, I hadn’t cared because I was annoyed.

While I eat, I’m aware of Devlin looking out the window we’re seated by, watching the passersby. I don’t know if he does it out of politeness or boredom. He’s not an easy man to read.

I keep waiting for him to snag my attention to bring up the real reason we’re here, but he doesn’t. When I’m finished eating, he inquires, “Subway, I’m assuming?”

His question has my eyebrows lifting. He wants to ride the subway with me?

A hint of amusement flickers in the depths of his eyes. “I’m assuming the limo is out of the question.”

I give him a pointed look as we vacate the booth.

“I figured as much.” He politely motions for me to lead the way.

I’m utterly bewildered as we exit the restaurant and make our way to the subway. Devlin Kade is being…accommodating. Has Hell frozen over after all?

The subway ride is just as awkward as it was last time, and then we’re finally approaching the apartment building.

I pause on the sidewalk, just in front of the building and turn to him expectantly. Maybe now I’m going to find out why he’d sought me out today.

He stands there looking sophisticated and confident as he stares down at me, his expression unreadable. “It’s been…nice, Charli.” I keep waiting for the ‘but,” and we stand there for a long moment. It doesn’t come. A dark eyebrow quirks. “Was there anything else?”

Wait…that’s it? He just wanted to watch me eat and bring me back to the apartment? Why? I’ll have to sort it out later because I’m recalling the money in the envelope that I’d planned on dropping off at his hotel. But now that he’s here…

I pull my phone out and text, Can you come up for a minute? I have something for you. As long as he’s being cordial, now’s the time to give him the money and be done with it.

A look of bewilderment flickers across his handsome features before he regards me with keen interest, and I can tell I’ve caught him by surprise. “Yes, of course,” he says.

We go into the building and make our way up to the eleventh floor. It’s weird having him with me, but I’m hoping he’ll let me return the envelope he’d given me. I’d replaced what I’d spent, and now that I have a job, I don’t see any reason why he can’t take the cash back.

I’m aware of Devlin standing behind me as I unlock the apartment door. We step inside and find Keagan comically sprawled upon the floral sofa I’d bought last week. It’s far too small for his big frame, but he’s making do as he watches something on his tablet. When he hears us come in, his blue eyes lift, a ready grin on his face until he spies Devlin. The grin fades as a look of concern replaces it.

I turn to Devlin, and he’s staring at the sofa with a look of distaste. “What the fuck is that?” I see him ask.

I frown and turn to look at the sofa. It’s pretty. I spy Keagan pointing to me, indicating that I’m the one who’d bought it.

Devlin rubs his temple, looking dubious. “It looks like it’s going to drop you on your ass,” he tells Keagan.

I roll my eyes. The sofa is perfectly fine. I’d bought it at the thrift shop so it’s gently used, but it’s still capable of doing its job. Devlin’s snobbishness is showing. I wave my hand for Devlin’s attention and motion for him to stay put, that I’ll be right back. His brows knit together, and I turn and quickly leave him with Keagan.

In my room, I set my purse on the bed and lift the mattress, pulling out the original envelope. All the cash is there, and I’m proud to be able to give it back. I have a job, and soon I’ll be able to look for a place of my own.

When I re-enter the living room, I note that I’ve interrupted their conversation. I walk to Devlin and hold out the envelope. He immediately reaches for it and then pulls back when he realizes what it is, but I’ve already handed it to him.

I quickly take a step back.

His chin drops so he can peer at me, and the stern set of his jaw is visible. “I am not taking this back.”

Shoot. I’d left my phone in my purse on my bed. I glance at Keagan, knowing he’ll translate for me. I begin to sign, I don’t need it, and I paid back anything I used in the beginning.

Devlin’s expression darkens as he yanks his gaze from Keagan to look back at me. “I gave it to you as a gift—”

My hands are already moving, It wasn’t a gift. It was a manipulation of sorts. I can’t— His warm hands reach out and catch mine, preventing me from signing further.

The fact that he’s interrupted me cuts deeply, and I am thoroughly offended. His lips are moving, but I’m not reading them. Instead, I swat away his hands with a glare before hurrying from the room.

As much as I want to make it clear how furious I am, I calmly close the French door instead of slamming it, and then when I reach my own room, I shut the door firmly so that Keagan knows I want to be left alone.

Tears spring to my eyes, and I press my palms to them, trying to prevent the tears from leaking down my cheeks. He’d dismissed me like I was a child—like my opinion was meaningless. It just throws me back to my childhood when everyone else would dismiss me by turning their backs. Or they’d laugh and pick on me, knowing that I couldn’t hear them. I was treated like a nobody, like I had no right to be there. I matter, damn it.

I. matter.

Damn Devlin Kade.