Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Afterwards, we both needed a moment to catch our breath. I quickly disposed of the condom and cleaned up with some tissues before falling back onto the bed.
He turned to me with a huge smile and blurted, “That was fun!”
That made me chuckle. “I agree.”
We shifted around so we were on our sides facing each other, and Kit kissed me before saying, “It’s still pretty early. We could get dressed and go check out more of Austin’s nightlife if you wanted to.”
“Is that what you want?”
“No. I want to stay in bed with you, but I’m trying to seem like I’m cool and hip and not a total homebody.”
“I want to stay in bed, too.”
“Good.” He looked relieved.
We ended up showering together, and then we ordered room service, since both of us had skipped dinner. Later on, when the lights were out and Kit was curled up in my arms, he murmured, “When you sang that Cyndi Lauper song earlier, it felt like you were singing it to me.”
“I was. Every other person in that club disappeared, Kit. That song was for you alone.”
“That’s so romantic.”
There was so much I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him how I felt about him. Instead, I admitted, “I’ve been holding back. I’m worried about what will happen to you if we get too close, about how you’ll feel after I…” I swallowed the lump in my throat and said softly, “I never want to hurt you, Kit.”
“I know that, but I’ve gone into this whole thing with my eyes wide open,” he said. “I may not believe in the curse, but I’ve always known that opening my heart and letting someone in comes with the risk of heartbreak. It’s a risk I’m willing to take, because I want to be with you, Devon.”
I whispered, “I want to be with you, too. More than anything.”
13
Kit
After a few wonderful days with Hal and Ryder, two nights in New Orleans, and a couple of days on the road, we arrived in Devon’s hometown. It was three days before Christmas, and a cool, crisp evening in Baltimore.
Devon got us a room in a fancy hotel with a view of the inner harbor. When I asked him why we didn’t just go to his mom and stepdad’s house, he said, “It’s getting late, and we’ve been on the road all day. I think it’d be better to go see them tomorrow.”
“Should we text them and tell them we’ll be delayed?”
“They don’t know we’re coming.”
“But you spoke to your mom three days ago. Didn’t you mention we were on our way?”
“I didn’t want to get her hopes up,” he said, “just in case I...”
He didn’t finish that sentence. He didn’t have to, because he’d said “I,” not “we.” He hadn’t been concerned about us running late, or having a change of plans, or breaking down on the road. He’d been worried he himself wouldn’t make it this far.
It was a reminder of what Devon was carrying with him. He’d seemed consistently upbeat, so I thought he was starting to believe he’d dodged the curse. After all, his thirtieth birthday was only about six weeks away. But he was right where he’d always been.
His back was to me as he rifled through his overnight bag, but he turned to me when I touched his arm and asked him, “Do you want to talk about how you’re doing?”
“I’m doing great and looking forward to a wonderful night together. We won’t have this kind of privacy when we’re staying with my mom and stepdad, so let’s make the most of it.”
I didn’t understand how he could simultaneously seem so positive and believe he was facing impending doom, but his smile seemed perfectly genuine. I decided not to push.
Devon grabbed his toiletry case and said, “I’m going to take a shower. Want to join me?”
“Absolutely.”
Not surprisingly, showering together led to fucking against the bathroom wall. Later on, we put on pajamas, enjoyed a decadent meal from room service, and got comfortable in front of the gas fireplace. I worked on sketching an idea for a new gown while Devon played his acoustic guitar.
After a while, I forgot about the sketch and watched him instead. He was so beautiful. The need to get close to him was overwhelming, so I tossed aside my sketchpad and announced, “Incoming.” That made him grin.
He set aside the guitar, and I crossed the short distance between us and straddled his lap. I kissed him before picking up the instrument and asking, “Can you teach me how to play this?”
“Sure.” I sat between his legs and leaned against him, and he said, “Before I teach you the basics, you should experiment and get comfortable with it.” I cautiously plucked one of the strings, and he told me, “You don’t have to be that gentle with it.”