Page 70 of Unbroken

Devon was standing before the open refrigerator, illuminated only by the fridge light before him and moonlight shining in from the windows behind him.

He hadn’t heard me descend the stairs or walk into the room, so I took the moment to let my gaze run over him. He leaned back against the island across from the fridge, staring blankly into it. His arms and ankles were crossed, and one of his hands covered his mouth like he was deep in thought. A white T-shirt clung to his arms and chest, and the gray sweatpants he wore were thin enough I knew they would leave little to my wild imagination.

Just as I was about to announce myself, he glanced in my direction and straightened. He closed the refrigerator doors and turned toward me, stuffing his hands into his pockets. My eyes tracked the movement, and it only took a quick glance for me to realize that yes, those pants did leaveverylittle to the imagination.They were tight in all the right places and showed off the outline of his impressive package.

I looked back up at him with a flush spreading across my cheeks I prayed he couldn’t see.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

Acting completely normal was difficult, but I walked into the kitchen like I would have any other day and pulled open the fridge. The cupcakes were front and center, but when I peered at the options, red velvet wasn’t one.

“There’s none left,” he said behind me, and I was unsurprised that he knew the flavor I was looking for. The cupcake was secondary at that point, but I grabbed a yellow one that was either vanilla or lemon.

“No,” I said, answering his earlier question. “I couldn’t sleep. And I’m guessing neither could you?” I set the cupcake on the island and retrieved a paper towel from across the kitchen. I turned around in time to see him shake his head.

“Too much on my mind. What about you?”

I nodded and set my cupcake on the paper towel, struggling to act like nothing was wrong. “I have a lot on my mind, too,” I said, peeling back the foil around the cupcake and taking a large bite. I chewed a few times, but with cupcake still in my mouth, I continued. “Like what is the speed of darkness? We know the speed of light, but that must mean there’s a speed of darkness, too.”

Devon coughed out a disbelieving laugh and shook his head, propping a hip on the counter and refolding his arms over his chest. “If darkness is the absence of light, then when light leaves, darkness returns, which would suggest that darkness has the same speed as light, but that couldn’t be what was on your mind.”

I blinked, finished chewing, and then tilted my head at the man before me. “I should be more surprised you had a response to that.”

He shrugged and motioned toward my face. “You have alittle,” he began, but rather than try to explain where on my face he was referring, he reached forward and swiped across my cheek.

When he leaned back, there was a good amount of vanilla icing on his thumb. And he did the last thing I expected. Rather than wipe the icing on the paper towel conveniently sitting beneath my half-eaten cupcake, Devon licked the remnants from his thumb.

It shouldn’t have been as erotic as it was, but suddenly, all I could think about was his tongue and how it might feel on me.

“So, tell me what was really keeping you up,” he said.

And my filter had disappeared right along with my ability to think straight, so I found myself blurting, “You.”If he was surprised by my answer, he didn’t look it. Clearing my throat, I explained, “Amanda told me.”

And that earned me an eyebrow raise. “She did?”

I inclined my head and picked at my cupcake. “She told you not to talk to me.”

He took a deep breath, and I braced myself for what he might say next.

“I shouldn’t have listened to her. I thought she made some good points at the time, but that was…stupid.”

“Then why did you?”

He turned and braced his hands on the granite counter, letting his head fall forward. Wishing I could read his thoughts, I stared at the side of his face like maybe I could will him to talk. And the longer the silence stretched on, the higher my anxiety climbed.

“Because I don’t want to fuck this up,” he finally said.

The honesty in his voice made my breath catch. I wasn’t expecting such vulnerability. It was oddly reminiscent of our conversation in the garage two weeks before, and it was a surprise to hear something like that once, but twice was truly unexpected.

“How would you fuck it up?” My voice was barely above a whisper, yet it felt like I echoed through the silent kitchen.

“It’s—I—” he stuttered, and with an angry groan, he finally said, “Because it’s you, Blakely. You’re my best friend, but fuck, I’ve wanted this longer than I can remember. There’s a lot on the line if this doesn’t work.”

“You’re right,” I said without question. “But wouldn’t it be worth trying?”

We glanced up, locking eyes at the same time, and I saw his answer reflected in his eyes before he spoke, but hearing the “yes” leave his lips was even better.

He straightened and slowly rounded the corner of the counter. He stepped up behind me, and I took my time, turning to face him. He was so close, but not nearly as close as I wanted.

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