Page 2 of It Never Was

I don't know what he is doing, but I don't have a good feeling about this. My cheeks warm up again in embarrassment. I don't want all these guys looking at me. Devon grasps both of my hips, keeping me to him, his own hips roll into me. I looked back at him, with a please stop in my eyes. He either doesn't read the message or doesn't give two flying fucks about it because he doesn't stop.

Devon wasn't always this way, aggressive, possessive, mean.

No, we started off sweet and nice.

But nice turned into annoyed and annoyed turned into plain fucking pissed all the time.

It wasn't overnight either, it was small things slowly overtime. So slowly you couldn't even notice they were there. And when you started to notice it was moments of 'I must have misunderstood' or 'Maybe I did something wrong'.

It was always that last one. I was always doing something wrong.

"You boys have no idea how well she can clean up. " He winked to the group, all eyes on me now as he dipped his hand into my shorts. I elbowed him more out of natural shock than to wound him, but the gesture didn’t help me. It only caused him to grip me tighter, wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me still. The bile started to rise in my throat in anticipation of what's to come.

God only knows what Devon has in store.

"Come on Ryen, you wanted to show off. Let me show you off."

1

Ryen

Present

The growl lowers into a hiss as steam rises around my face, the smell of oat milk invading my senses. Espresso shots drip to a stop beside me, the flow of the morning rush starting to pick up in the coffee shop. The buzz of customers is slowly rising. Conversations start to blend as they talk to their friends about their day, some on phone calls talking business, and others are tapping away on their keyboards from the seating area in the lobby, most of them students taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi.

Where the hell is Willow?

I am more than burnt out for the day. When I arrived at work this morning, I was the only one here. Marge, our pastry cook, did a no-call no-show, which meant I got the fun task of not only doing my opening tasks but Marge's as well. It was just me running around like a mad woman until Chrissy, our cashier, got here for her shift.

God, Paul is lucky to have me. I am the only employee here that is cross trained. I could do his job if I wanted to.

Hell, I did for a while.

"Carmen, dirty chai with oat milk!" I call out as I cap the top and slide it across the counter. Chrissy is talking to the next customer as I look over my next few cups in line by the espresso machine. She came in just as I was opening the doors for the day, and I was grateful she was not late.

Unlike some…and by some, I mean Willow.

I notice out of the corner of my eye, the front door flying open. Someone must be in a rush. I suspect it's Willow arriving for her shift an hour late. Don't get me wrong, she is my best friend and basically family, but her time management skills are nonexistent. I have covered her ass since I got her hired here at Morning Cup. Which was not an easy task. I had to basically beg on hands and knees to Paul, the owner. Eventually he agreed only because I'm his best employee, and having Willow with me would make me happy. Willow is making it hard to keep Paul convinced it was a good decision.

I wonder what her excuse for her tardiness will be today.

"Rye!"

My heart speeds up. That is not the voice I was expecting to hear. Turning in the direction my name came from I am met with sandy blonde hair and golden-speckled eyes. His smooth ivory skin is flawless, my eyes traveled to his stern jaw and broad shoulders. Even in his Carhartt utility jacket, you can see his built figure. My body takes over and I am captivated by a familiar sense of need.

It's Devon. Devon Pierce.

Butterflies swarm in my stomach and I feel the need to embrace him, but the need to run is growing stronger. It was taking more restraint to stay in place than it should take.

"Hey, babe…" he says in a hushed tone as a small smirk forms on his lips. His eyes wander over my face.

I can tell he is trying to gauge if I am still agitated because of Saturday at his friend's house party. He was manhandling me like I was a piece of meat. His hands were gliding up my sweater trying to grasp my breast, and when I pushed him off, he grabbed me even harder and shoved his hands down my jeans. All in front of his friends who were egging him on. His hands were too rough as he held me to him, yanking at my clothes and clawing at me, his eyes were on fire for me to obey him.

To say I was upset would be an understatement. But I couldn't fight back, so I did the only thing I could, I went home. In Devon's drunken state he didn't give two shits. I didn't want to go to the party in the first place and definitely didn't want to put on a show for his drunk friends. I went because he begged me to. He said it was a party to end the summer break since I would be starting up classes again for college this week. He celebrated more than I did. With shot after shot, beer after beer. I didn't drink, I didn't feel like following in my mother's footsteps. Devon was a lot to handle without the booze in his system, add some vodka and a beer or two and he really lets the true him loose.

He has been avoiding me since that night. Or should I say punishing me.

Ignoring my messages and calls, even though I knew he should be the one to reach out. That is never how Devon and I played out. I was the one to come running, no matter the circumstances.

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