Page 43 of Confessions of a Virgin on a Dating App
“It was. Both sets of parents threw a fit, and I was the one left behind in Georgia to deal with their fury. I fled the state as soon as the divorce was finalized, and I moved down here to be with my cousin. But I was an emotional wreck, and I started partying to numb the pain. And with parties came drinking, then drugs…and I lost control.”
I felt Devin’s pain, deep in my chest and through every nerve in my body. It reminded me of my parents’ raging disappointment when they discovered I’d been kicked out of college—and why.
“I completely understand,” I replied, my voice soft with empathy. “After college, I spent so many nights crying myself to sleep in my childhood bedroom until I finally snapped. One evening, after a particularly bad argument with my parents, I packed up all my essentials, shoved them in my beat-up Camry, and drove through the night until I ended up in Orlando.”
“I remember,” Devin said with a faint smirk. “You showed up here one afternoon, peeping through the door like a terrified kitten.”
I scowled. “Oh come on. I was not that bad.”
Devin laughed. “You most definitely were. I was standing behind the counter, and when I said hello, you gawked at me like I was the spawn of Satan.”
“I did not!”
My nostrils flared; my cheeks scorching red with embarrassment. But Devin continued laughing.
My posture softened. I knew Devin was right, because I still remembered it myself. Growing up in such a sheltered community, I’d never been around anyone other than clean-cut church types. Walking into Critical Games on a whim was the first time I’d ever seen a goth guy with piercings and tattoos. It terrified me.
And now it filled me with regret.
I judged him without even knowing him.
It was hard to believe that, five years later, we were sitting alone in the back room of that same game shop, pouring out our life stories. Showing each other who we were beyond the gaming hijinks and snarky comments. It hit me that in all the years I’d known Devin, I’d never trulyknownhim.
I’d never known how much our stories overlapped. How similar we were.
“I love it here,” Devin continued, his voice hazy with contemplation. “I met Scott, the old owner, at one of my AA meetings. He hired me, a scrawny recovering addict with very little job history, to work at the shop. And I was so grateful for it. I started playingCreatures & Crypts, and it honestly saved my life. Tabletop gaming became my passion. I poured my heart and soul into this place, and after Scott’s health issues got too severe, I took over the shop. Itwas having financial issues that took years to recover from, but Scott knew how much I cared about Critical Games. He still pops in here from time to time. He’s more of a father to me than my own dad.”
The warmth in his voice suddenly chilled over. “But I still get scared. There are nights when it all comes back to haunt me, when I remember who I used to be. And these—” He pointed at his scars. “—won’t let me forget.”
“But you have all of us.” I gestured toward the front of his shop. “Everyone here loves you. You’ve built an incredible community here. They’d never judge you for your past.”
“Maybe not my immediate friends,” Devin sighed. “But others would. I’m a Crypt Master for kids for hell’s sake, imagine if their parents saw my scars and knew I used to be an addict…”
His voice broke, and I saw the anguish consume his face as he fought back tears. My heart plummeted. In the five years I’d known Devin, I’d always labeled him as a cocky, smug, yet slightly endearing pain in the ass. But now my emotions lay raw in front of me, and I couldn’t deny it anymore. I cared about him, and I couldn’t stand to see him in so much pain.
“Listen to me.” I placed a hand over his forearm, rubbing his scars with my fingers. “I know I call you a pain, and a dweeb, and a lot of other things. But the truth is that you, Devin Lancaster, are one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met. I walked in here five years ago as a terrified kid with no home, no friends, and a ton of emotional trauma. I was afraid of you, and yet you sat me down and taught me how to playC&Clike we’d known each other for years. I left the shop that day with hope that maybe life in Orlando wouldn’t be that bad. Then I met Cassidy, and Aaron, and all my other friends. I built a new life here. And it’s all because of you. So don’teverlet anyone judge youbecause of your past. Because I sure as hell won’t let them judge me for mine.”
Devin was silent. I looked up, my fingers still rubbing his scars, and locked eyes with him. I was close enough to see all the little details, every fleck of color in his blue-green irises. But most importantly, I saw him. Not the snarky older brother figure who liked to tease me. Not the cocky game shop owner who invaded my space and made snide comments about my dating life. Instead, I saw the first friend I made when I arrived in Orlando. The geeky, tattooed goth guy who had just as much baggage as I did. I saw the kindest soul I knew, the one that for years I’d been too stubborn to admit my feelings for.
And at that moment, I wanted him more than anything else in the world.
He leaned toward me, hesitant, his subtle movements asking a question. Testing the waters to see if his feelings were reciprocated. I threw every fear, every worry, every bit of sanity out the window and pressed my lips to his.
It was gentle at first. He was soft and warm, and I felt the spark within me roar into a searing flame the moment he deepened our kiss. He embraced me, wrapping his arms around my hips and pulling me towards him. I responded by running my fingers through his soft black hair, my heart melting like a burning candle.
This wasn’t like my first kiss with Tristan. Or even with Tyler. This was five long years of repressed feelings and pent-up attraction. It was glorious and soul-consuming, and it wasn’t long before our affections got out of control.
Devin leaned forward, pushing me back and forcing me to use the break room table as a seat. But he didn’t stop there. His hands trailed their way up my back, gripping me with a ferocity that nearly brought me to tears. Our kisses grew deeper and morefervent as we allowed our attraction to consume us.
“Avie…” he breathed in my ear.
I had never loved that nickname so much in my life.
A slight gasp of pleasure escaped me, and that drove him wild. He pressed his lips against my neck in a sea of kisses while his hands slid to the side of my breasts. I bit my lip until I tasted blood, determined not to let out a moan in the back room of the shop. Critical Games was closed, and we were out of sight of the windows, but I still didn’t want to risk it. This felt so wrong, and yet so horribly, wonderfully right.
I couldn’t break away. I was still propped on the table, engulfed in his embrace, and I could feel the bulge in his jeans pressed against me. I wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled him closer to me. I wanted to feel him. I wanted all of him.
He gasped in my ear, and it set my entire body on fire. But amidst our heated embrace, it also allowed me a moment of clarity.
