Page 48 of Devotion

I neither confirm nor deny, mostly because things were such a blur between us, I’m not entirely sure what was and what wasn’t.

Isha gently slips the menu out of my hand, making it impossible to hide from them. The waiter walks up just in time, and she orders four Cosmos, because that’s what wealwaysorder.

“Tell us what happened,” she beckons as soon as it’s just us again.

I sigh, not really knowing where to start. “Well, things have been kind of off between us for a while now, but I think we were just going through the motions because it all became so… familiar.”

They breathe a collective, sympathetic“Mmm…”,letting me know they get exactly what I mean.

“We had plans Friday. He wanted to show me he’s serious about me, so he invited me out to meet his friends.”

“Things didn’t go so well?”

I lift my eyes toward the ceiling for a moment, trying to decide how to answer Eliza’s question.

“I suppose he would’ve had to have shown up for it to have gone poorly.”

“What the fuck?” Isha snaps. “That asshole stood you up?”

“Calm down and let the girl tell the story!” Eliza jumps in, patting my hand the next second when her gaze shifts to me. “Continue, Layla.”

“Yes and no?” I say, knowing I sound vague as hell. “He was an hour late. And… by the time he got there, I’d met someone else.”

“Oh, damn!” Isha shouts, garnering the attention of the group of women at the next table. “Talk about a quick rebound.”

Smiling, I shake my head. “It wasn’t like that. It started when this weird guy tried to hit on me, then turnedaggressivewith me. Damien stepped up and told the guy to fuck off.”

“Damien…” Dove says, letting his name roll off her tongue. “Hesoundshot.”

I swallow the lump her words bring to my throat, remembering how seeing him in the flesh affected me. His height, the way he wore a suit, the way he touched me.

“Did you get his number? His socials? Anything?”

I smile at Isha’s not-so-subtle prying. “I… know how to contact him.” That’s all I can say shy of admitting that he stalks me and has somehow found a way to message my computer.

“So…?”

“So…?” I say, echoing Dove’s question.

“Did you fuck him?” she clarifies, and the others can’t hold in their laughs.

Then, my lack of a response suddenly renders them silent.

“Wait… you did?” Isha’s nosey ass pipes up.

“Not exactly, but there may or may not have been hand stuff.”

“Youhand stuff? Orhimhand stuff?” she asks.

When I glance down at my lap, imagining Damien’s hand moving between my thighs, hidden only by his suit jacket, she gasps.

“You slut! I fucking love you!”

Her declaration has us all laughing. Even more so when she leans in to hug me.

“I wish Martinez could’ve seen,” she adds. “That would teach him not to take you for granted.”

Again, my loaded silence speaks volumes.

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