Her condition remains stable, and she insisted I have time to myself instead of worrying about her so much. It was a tough sell, but she promised she’s feeling fine.
It’s the weekend and I intend to spend my Saturday afternoon curled up in a blanket on the cushioned window seat in the lounge while I listen to the steady patter of rain outside. If I can just find my book first…
I come out of my room, which I’ve only used to store my clothes and my book collection. I haven’t slept there all week.
Pausing in the hallway, I tap my chin. I know I didn’t leave it downstairs. Maybe I took it to Devlin’s room, in my growing stack of paperbacks on the nightstand.
When I check the pile, it’s not there. I go to Devlin’s side of the bed and shuffle through the psychology books he reads.
“Aha!”
I snag my paperback on the Japanese art of Kintsugi, a poetic craft of repairing broken pottery with gold to symbolize accepting flaws, transforming what’s broken into an even more beautiful piece of art. It’s a favorite practice of art I love reading about because I feel a connection to the beauty in embracing scars and fractured pieces.
I flip the book over and find a new bookmark sticking out of the top. It’s a real bookmark, unlike the scraps of paper and receipts I usually use. “What were you doing over here?”
“I pilfered it. Along with a few others.”
Devlin leans against the open door, hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans.
“Now who’s the thief?”
Smirking, I check the stack of books on his nightstand and sure enough more of my books are between the psychology titles. Even Stardust, the book I mentioned Mom reading to me the first time I sat on the roof with him. When did he take these?
I hold up the book. “Did you read all of it?”
“I did.” Devlin peels off the doorframe and comes over. He circles my waist from behind. “It reminded me of when my mom would read to me. I was pretty young.” His voice drops lower, tinged with melancholy. “I can barely remember it clearly. Just murky slips of memories with a nightlight that cast stars on the wall.”
I put Stardust down and spin in his embrace, looping my arms around his neck, threading my fingers into his thick hair. “Sounds like she spent a lot of time with you. Hold on to those memories.”
Devlin hums and pulls me into a kiss. It quickly sweeps both of us away, stoking a fire in my stomach. We fall onto the bed, where Devlin puts me in his lap as he kisses down my chest before stripping my shirt off.
“I want you,” he murmurs into my skin. “All of you. I want to keep you for myself and let no one else in our bubble.”
Our bubble.
Gasping, I hold on to Devlin as his lips drag over my skin, whispering the things I’ve been too jaded to wish for. Because I’m no longer the little girl that believes in wishing on stars.
But for Devlin? I might be able to find a way to believe again, to hope. To trust he isn’t lying.
Things grow hot and heavy, his hands following the same path as his mouth. He pauses, leaning back to look at me.
“What is it?”
“Let’s go out tonight.” Devlin brings his mouth to mine. “We’ll go out of town. We could even get a hotel room.”
“Like a date?”
“Yes.”
I blink twice, searching for the punchline. “What’s wrong with hanging out in town? The pizza place on main is popular for dates. Or, uh, so I hear.”
“I want to do this right.” He clears his throat, dropping his eyes. He goes on, mumbling, “It’s what you deserve. You’re worth it.” He inhales, meeting my eyes once more. Some of his confidence seems restored. “I figure go big or go home.”
A laugh bubbles out of me. “Okay. Sure.”
Devlin grins, recapturing my mouth in a searing kiss.
* * *