Page 62 of Unbroken

“I didn’t—” he whispered, brushing a thumb back and forth against my cheek. “I don’t know what happened. I just…snapped.”

A tentative smile pulled at the corners of my lips. “It was mutual. When I came out here—” My words stopped suddenly, and I licked my lips.

His brow furrowed, and he used his thumb to tug my lower lip free from my teeth. “When you came out here…?” he asked.

I shook my head, and I looped my fingers through his worn belt loops. “I was going to say that it wasn’t my intention to kiss you when I came out here. But that would’ve been a lie. I wanted to kiss you. I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time.” The last words were quieter than the rest and so much harder to admit out loud.

“So, do it again.” Devon’s response shocked me. But with one quick scan of his face, I knew he wanted it as desperately as I did. His eyes were clouded with arousal, and his lips were parted in invitation.

Using my grip on his belt loops, I tugged him closer. He tangled one hand in my hair and tilted my face with the other, guiding our lips back together. My entire body sighed in relief. Same as before, there was nothing sweet about it. It wasn’t gentle, and it didn’t build.

Like there were years of pent-up and suppressed desire that were suddenly freed. All these new sensations vibrating through us, we were both too consumed by the clashing of lips, the meeting of tongues, the newness of it all that we forgot where we were and didn’t hear the car pull into the driveway or the door shut.

“Holy fucking shit,” a voice exclaimed from just outside the garage.

Immediately, we broke away from one another and whipped our attention in the direction of the sound.

My heart jumped into my throat as my brain recognized who stood between the two cars parked in the driveway. Sydney, Devon’s younger sister, looked like she’d just seen a ghost.

The spitting image of Shelly, her red hair whipped around her. Her mouth was dropped in a surprised “O” shape, and clutched in her hands were several bags and a duffel thrown over her shoulder.

“Umm…hey, Sydney,” I said, dropping my hands from her brother’s shirtless chest and struggling to tug my skirt back down to an acceptable length.

She glanced from me to her brother, who was still close enough to me that my knee was pressed against his thigh, and one of his hands was braced against my hip.

She snapped out of her shocked state and readjusted the bags in her hands. “I’m glad you’re back, Blakely,” she said with a shake of her head. “But you do realize, Dev, that yourroom is right up there.” She gestured to the apartment above the garage before she continued, “Unless youreallycan’t make it that far, in which case you should at least shut the door before you?—”

“Thank you,” Devon said loud enough that she dropped it. “Mom’s inside. You should go see her.”

She turned to leave, bags in tow, but paused, staring at the side of the garage. “Are you sure you don’t want me to just—” It took me a second to realize she was pointing to the button to open and close the garage door.

“Sydney,” Devon warned, and she did her best to raise her hands in surrender as she opened the gate and went inside. Neither of us moved until we heard Sydney greet her mom and the back door close.

“I’m sorry about her,” Devon mumbled.

I shrugged and slid off the table. “You forget I’ve known Sydney for over a decade. I wouldn’t expect anything different.”

That thought made me realize the gravity of what we’d just done. The first time I’d met Sydney, she was so young she still had a lisp and wanted to play princess every time I was around. Devon and I had been friends for so long. There was more than a decade of history between us, and we’d done the one thing that was most likely to fuck it all up.

Our friendship had survived college, his mom’s cancer diagnosis, the beginnings of adulthood, and my kidnapping. And the thought that we’d just kissed it all away hit me in a strong, sudden wave.

My fingers tentatively brushed against my raw and tender lips.

“Blake.” Devon’s low cautious tone broke me of my thoughts, and I glanced up to find concern drawing his brows together.

His hand reached toward me, but like he second-guessed the action, he instead dropped it to his side. “I hate that I can’t read your thoughts right now, so you’ve got to tell me what you’rethinking. Your facial expressions are…not great. Are you upset about what just happened?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets, and I didn’t even have to consider my response. All the concerns from before lost their grip when I considered Devon standing before me. None of it was enough to keep me from moving. I closed the distance between us and peered up into his hazel eyes, letting him see the confidence I hoped was reflected in mine.

“No,” I said. “I’m not upset; it’s quite the opposite. I’m thinking that I really want it to happen again.”

Surprise replaced the concern in his expression, and a small smile tilted his lips. Lips I really did desperately want to kiss again. So much so that it scared me.

“But,” I continued as I reached for one of his hands and held it in both of mine. “If we don’t go inside soon, your sister is bound to tell your mom, and then we have two of them to deal with. Which isn’t the best idea before we even get a chance to talk about…this.”

Devon looked down at our joined hands and nodded thoughtfully. Because whether I was confident or not, kissing my best friend required a conversation afterward.

“Okay,” he said, dropping my hands to take my chin between his thumb and forefinger. He titled my face higher, and his eyes raked over me. They settled on my lips, which I reflexively wetted under his stare. “But just one more.”

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