Page 72 of Her Devils

Darrius’s brown eyes go from my face to my phone in my hands before his gaze settles on mine. “I did, and I was hoping to see you there, Len. I missed you.”

I avert my gaze. That’s exactly the kind of stuff that used to give me hope that Darrius and I could eventually become more than just friends—the kind of stuff that Kiara said he used as a breadcrumbing tactic to keep me ensnared while he dated everyone but me.

I meet his eyes again, ready to call his bluff. “I doubt it. You had your teammates, your sister, and your girlfriend there.”

Girlfriend. That word again.

Funny how the same word can make you feel warm and fuzzy one second and then make your heart twitch painfully in your chest in the blink of an eye.

“Yeah, but I was hoping to see you,” he says with that soft, deep rumble in his voice that used to make me yearn for him and swoon.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t feel like spending the evening dodging your sister’s and your girlfriend’s catty comments and verbal barbs.”

The muscle in his jaw pops, and the softness in his tone is all but gone. “Right. You felt like going to dinner with the Devils instead. With our rivals.”

His attempt to make me feel guilty falls on deaf ears. “I went to dinner with my mom, my stepfather, and some friends.”

“It was a pre-meet dinner, and you chose to spend the night before nationals with them rather than with your own team.”

I bristle at his accusatory tone. “Think what you want, D. I haven’t been with the team before a big meet for years. Not sincePapàwas still alive. And judging by what I’ve been seeing since I started working for the Angels, I know you have your own pre-meet traditions.”

He has the decency to look embarrassed, lowering his gaze. “Don’t believe that stupid blogger, I—”

I shrug, surprised by the fact that seeing him sleep around before every meet so far this year hurts less than I thought it would. “Don’t even bother to deny it, I saw you surrounded by groupies, but it’s not my problem. I know we aren’t traveling this time, but I’m sure you must have your choice of parties with a line of girls who want nothing but to be able to claim that they slept with Darrius Penn. So what’s keeping you? If your girlfriend decided to turn a blind eye to it, then that’s all that matters.”

He takes my hand in his much bigger, warmer one. “You’re right, but I’m not lying to you, Len. I’ve been thinking about things and reevaluating my life and my choices. This is a hard world, and we hardly ever slow down. Life in the fast lane is exciting, but sometimes it’s hard to see what’s right in front of you when you’re going at such a fast speed that everything and everyone around you blurs into the background.”

I don’t say anything, unwilling to take his lame excuses for treating the people in his life like part of “the background.”

“Len.” His voice drops by a couple of octaves. “Guess what I saw the second I slowed down and looked around?”

I meet his gaze but keep my mouth shut.

“I realized that I was missing something, and what I’m missing is you. That’s why I’m here. Remember how I used to line the balcony floor with pillows, and we’d lie down and talk all night?”

I remember.

We’d watch the stars and pour our hearts out to each other, talking about everything. “We had no secrets between us, or at least I didn’t,” I say, missing how close we were.

He squeezes my hand. “I didn’t have any secrets from you either. You’ve always been the only person I told everything to. I even told you when I lost my virginity, remember? You were the only one who knew. I never even told Anna.”

I remember that.

Especially how much it hurt. “You know, D, maybe you haven’t stopped to really look at things until now, and maybe I haven’t either. You were on the fast lane, and I was stuck in my grief overPapà.”

He frowns, his eyes fixed on mine, searching. “What do you mean?”

My admission comes easier than I thought. “I should have understood that you didn’t reciprocate my feelings when you told me stuff like that. Someone who loves you wouldn’t tell you in detail how he got his first blow job under the pier, or that he had to try to put on a condom twice because his hands were shaking so much his first time that he dropped the first one and it got covered in sand.” I can’t help the hint of bitterness in my voice.

He flinches, lacing his fingers with mine. “Fuck. I was even more of an asshole than I thought. I’m so sorry, Len. What the fuck was I thinking? I never should have told you all that shit.”

I know he admitted to toeing the line to keep me interested in him on purpose, but I dove into his trap headfirst. Part of it was me being naïve, but a part of me simply refused to see what was right in front of me the entire time. I shrug. “I should have paid more attention and never gotten my hopes up.”

Darrius pulls me so close that our chests touch. “What if I should have paid more attention to my own feelings instead? At first, I knew you were too young for the stuff I wanted to do, but afterwards, I never even thought about you that way.”

He’s so close that the familiar scent of his cologne surrounds me. “Yeah, but I was boring and inexperienced.” My eyes drift down as fresh humiliation causes heat to rise to my face at the memory of his words when he turned me down.

He lifts my face with gentle fingers under my chin, his other hand still holding mine. “I never suspected that this sexy, exciting version of you was lying under the surface, Len. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I wasn’t seeing you because I wasn’t looking.”

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