Twenty-six

Charli

 

I can’t deny that I’m enjoying Devlin’s company this morning. It’s been entertaining watching him make breakfast while I sit at the table across from the kitchen, sipping orange juice. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of black lounge pants as he makes us scrambled eggs and bacon. He’d warned me he’s not much of a cook, but he’d been determined to try instead of ordering from somewhere.

My eyes roam his body as he holds the frying pan above the plates and begins dividing the eggs. He’s so damn sexy. I’m tempted to go over and touch him, but I know that if I do, it’ll start something that I may not be able to finish. I’m sore this morning, and I’m thinking it would be wise to take a break before engaging in further sex.

I also like the fact that his eyes have been lingering on me. I’m dressed in one of his business shirts and nothing else—but he makes no move to pressure me into anything.

I’m distracted from my thoughts as he walks over and sets a plate in front of me. His hair is messy, and whiskers line his jaw. My fingers itch to touch his face, but instead, I give him a smile of thanks.

He looks adorable as his expression shifts to a hint of uncertainty. “If it tastes like shit, I’ll send someone to grab something edible.”

I shake my head, giving him a rueful look. I’d rather eat dirt than tell him his cooking is bad. I turn my attention to my plate and pick up my fork as Devlin takes a seat across from me. My first bite of the eggs tells me they’re indeed edible, but they lack much seasoning. I don’t mind.

When my eyes lift in his direction, I find him setting his fork down as he looks at me intently, a hint of amusement lurking in his gaze. I arch an eyebrow questioningly.

“You’re not going to say it, are you?” he asks.

He’s referring to the bland eggs. I hold his gaze and determinedly scoop more into my mouth.

He shakes his head. “Don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not going to second guess it.” He rises to his feet and walks to the cupboards, pulling out containers of salt and pepper. When he retakes his seat, he shakes them over his eggs before sliding them towards me.

I lightly sprinkle a little salt and pepper on mine, and then take a bite of the crispy bacon. It’s a little overcooked, but I love it crispy.

We both eat in silence, and occasionally, I peer out the window. The morning sunlight is filtering through the many windows, and I’m enjoying its warmth and the view.

When we’re finished, Devlin insists on clearing the table and loading the dishwasher. He then refills my glass, and I rise to my feet to walk back into the main room while he wipes down the table.

I stare out at Manhattan, entranced by the view. It’s amazing, and I don’t think it will ever lose its allure the more that I look upon it. I’m not sure how long I’ve been standing there, but when I eventually pull my gaze from the windows, I find Devlin sitting on one of the curving sofas. He looks relaxed and content to watch me.

Reality is beginning to creep back up on me, and I move to sit near him. Thankfully, I’m not scheduled to work today, so I can focus on sorting out my living situation and buying all the things I’ll need just to get by the next few days. When I recall my wallet likely burned in the fire, my shoulders slump. Crap.

Devlin moves closer to me, his eyes sharply alert. “Talk to me.”

I give him a wan smile, disappointed over having to start all over. “I have so much to…replace. The phone, my ID…”

He reaches for my hand, and his warm fingers slide between mine, his eyes assuring me that it’ll all be taken care of. “We’ll take care of it today. It won’t be as difficult as you think. We’ll also get you a new phone and some clothes.”

My eyes harden. “I don’t want to rely on you…Devlin,” I say, saying his name for the first time.

He’s silent as he observes my expression. “I know you want your independence, but I also would like the chance to help you in any way that I can.” He regards me with keen interest. “I was hoping you’d stay here. With me.”

Stay here? I gaze at him, taken aback by his offer before I scan the room, taking in the classy décor. This place, it’s not me. I know I can’t achieve everything I set my mind to, but living with Devlin would make me feel like I’m settling and giving up some of the control I have over my life. When I turn back to Devlin, I see his lips begin moving.

“I want you to have your independence. I mean it, Charli. Do what you need to do during the day, but I would love for you to come back to me at night,” he says with steady eyes.

When he puts it like that, my heart wants to melt. I struggle to remain unwavering, but it’s difficult. I wave a hand towards the room. “I don’t…belong here. It’s not me.” I frown, struggling to figure out how to explain what I’m feeling.

“Why isn’t it you?” he presses, his expression confused.

“It’s…” I search for the correct word. “It’s…impersonal. Disconnected. Not a place that I could call home.” I watch to see if he understands what I’m trying to say.

He looks momentarily perplexed. His eyes lift, and he looks around the room as if seeing it through new eyes. He turns back to me. “I had a designer decorate it, and I haven’t added anything personal because I’ve never cared to. If you want to remove everything and turn it into a place you’d be comfortable in, I’m fine with that. Hire a decorator or pick everything yourself,” he says, his expression placid over the entire idea.

“You didn’t like the things I bought for the apartment,” I sputter, recalling his look of horror when he’d first seen the floral sofa.

He shrugs, still unperturbed over the idea of me taking over his home. “So I’ll learn to love it.”

“I can’t just turn your home into…mine,” I protest.

“That’s what couples do, right?” he asks with probing eyes. “When they move in together, they compromise so that both are happy. I don’t care what this place looks like, just as long as you’re in my bed nightly and in my life.”

“You’re…insane.”

He smiles with bemusement. “I’ve been told that a time or two.”

For a long moment, I’m left speechless as I stare at him. He really seems okay with the idea of sharing his life with me, sharing his home…his everything. It’s daunting and exhilarating at the same time.

“At least say you’ll try it. Please,” he coaxes.

“I…” I look around the penthouse once more before turning back to him. “I don’t like dark…colors. I like bright, and I like comfortable. Like pillows, soft furniture. I enjoy…thrift stores.”

He nods his acceptance. “Okay.”

“This could never work,” I say helplessly.

“We won’t know unless we try,” he points out.

He has a valid point. I glance around the room, my eyes surveying it critically. I could really love this place if the walls were lighter and the furniture colorful. A home should reflect my character, but this is also Devlin’s home too, and it needs to reflect who he is as well. Redecorating would be a struggle but possibly manageable.

When I feel a touch on my knee, I turn to look at him.

“Charli, I’ve never had a real home. All I know is this,” he says, waving a hand at the room. “Disconnection is the perfect word for it. Make it feel like home, because I can’t begin to comprehend what a real home feels like. Do you understand? Show me what I’m missing.”

I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I nod. Okay. We’ll try it, but it’s still important that this place reflect Devlin as well. It’s going to be slow going, but that’s fine. It’ll be a work in progress.

Devlin’s face lights up, and he draws me into his arms as he holds me tightly. I wrap my arms around his bare shoulders, smiling. When he shows true happiness, I feel like a child unwrapping something precious.

He pulls back and grazes my lips with his. The kiss is gentle and tender, but before it can grow heated, he pulls back to look at me with intense eyes. “I’m going to prove to you that this is where you belong,” he vows.

I give him a stern look and pull back. “There are rules,” I warn.

His expression twitches, betraying his disappointment. “Of course.”

“I am going to work. I will take the subway when I want. Keagan is no longer on your…payroll. And if I want to…” I frown, struggling with the word I want to say. “Detour on the way home, I’m going to. And you’re going to let me.”

His lips tighten. “The subway is non-negotiable.”

“I’m not moving in,” I say stubbornly.

His eyes lift heavenwards, and I can see him visibly struggling for patience. When his gaze returns to mine, his face is stiff. “You won’t allow my driver to take you where you need to go?”

I shoot him a look.

“Right.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “Fine.” Something stirs in his gaze. “What about driving yourself? Buy a car,” he urges. “I can handle that over the subway.”

“I can’t buy a car, I don’t have the money,” I logically remind.

“I do,” he says immediately.

I glare daggers.

His hands fly up in surrender. “It was just a suggestion. Fine, take the subway.” He looks unhappy over the idea, but he says nothing further.

I smile faintly. I think we both have a lot to learn from each other, and Devlin’s going to have to accept that he can’t keep me safe by keeping me in a bubble.