Page 27 of Devil in Disguise
He scratched his jaw. “What was the question again?”
She hit him with a pillow, he spilled some of his beer and exclaimed, and then he was setting the bottle down and grabbing for her while she shrieked and leaped out of bed.
A fraction of a second, and he was heading around the bed. She jumped on top of it with a mighty leap, jumped off the other side, ducked around the dresser, and headed out the bedroom door fast.
He got her within about two steps. Caught her around the waist, and did some sort of a fling-thing where he threw her over his shoulder. After that, he carried her back into the bedroom and threw her down.
She was laughing so hard by now, she couldn’t talk. He flung himself on top of her, took her head in his hands, kissed the laugh right out of her, and said, “You’re bad.” After which he grinned at her, and she grinned back and thought,I am so in love with you.
After that, she said it, because—well, anyway, she did. “I am so in love with you,” she told him, her own hands on his face now. “You’re just … the kind of man I want. How can that feel so true?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But me too. And, no, it’s not going to be that hard to say no.”
“Even if she’s really, really pretty? And I can’t believe how much it matters. I’m not evolved atall.”
He rolled with her so she was on top, then said, “Nope. Not even if she’s Miss Wyoming, coming up to me in Daisy Dukes and a cowboy hat. Nobody else gets me like you do. And by the way? Once we’re there, I want to do it like this, with you riding me like the most badass bull rider on the whole circuit. And I want to watch.” He ran his hands over her butt and held her there. “I know you’ve got all those positions and all those surprises for me, and I’ll take those. You bet I will. But, honey, I’ve got a few favorites of my own. And I want to do them all.”
14
Not Dinner Table Conversation
She didn’t crywhen she said goodbye to Owen on Friday morning, even though she wouldn’t see him until the Seahawks game in November. They would be two and a half hours away from each other, his only days off were Tuesdays, andheronly days off were … well, probably almost none.
She parked the car outside the house, told her mom, “Be right back,” and headed up the driveway, thinking,You knew this was going to happen. Everybody says goodbye. It’s not forever.
I hope.
He was outside before she even made it to the door.
“It’s not that I’m not sad,” she explained after a few minutes, when she was deep in his embrace, because nobody in the world hugged like Owen. Nobody else could wrap you up like he could, or make you feel so held. “It’s just that I don’t cry.”
He held her tighter, and the lump in her throat grew so big, it hurt. Herchesthurt. Herhearthurt. “It’s OK,” he said. “I’m going to miss you, too. You’re going to knock ’em dead up there, though.”
“Right. From my spot at the end of the tray line at the dining hall. Or in my Thermodynamics class.” She pulled back enough so she could look at him, because she had to imprint his face on her mind. The look on it, some sort of tender/strong thing. She needed to take that with her. “But hey. At least I’ll get to watch your games, right? You’re my favorite part.”
“I’m nobody’s favorite part,” he said, but he was smiling, at least. She felt thethud-thudof his heartbeat, which was stronger than anybody else’s, too, because that was how big his heart was.
“You’re mine,” she said. “You’ll always be mine.” And then thought,Wait.
In answer, he held her a minute more, then set her down and said, “Got to get to practice. Text me when you get there. If I don’t answer right away, remember that it’s not because I don’t love you.”
“Right.” It was so hard to turn around and walk away. Physically hard, like there were weights on her ankles. “I love you. Be safe. Don’t get a concussion.”
A crooked smile. “Yeah. You too. Got your helmet?”
“Yep.” She gave him a salute, trying for jaunty, trying for fun, and finally, she left. And drove without speaking for about sixty miles afterwards.
Why did leaving have to hurt so much? You weren’t just leaving your past, you were also arriving in your future. Why couldn’t you switch gears and just focus on that?
It sure would have been better if they’d been able to try again at the actual-intercourse thing after their date on Tuesday night, or even if she’d been able to spend the night. If he hadn’t had to go to work early the next day, and so had she.
He hadn’t eventriedon Tuesday, though. They’d messed around, but when she’d said, “I’m ready to try again,” he’d said, “You know what? Let’s wait until we have time to work at it. Everything’s harder if you’re under pressure.” And smiled at her with so much sweetness, it hurt.
Was that evennormal?
Her mom had been quiet all this time, she finally realized. Oh. She should be paying attention. She said, trying to keep her voice regular, “Want to stop and get something to eat?”
“Sure,” Jennifer said. “Also, I need to go to the bathroom.”
