Page 58 of Devotion

Remembering that this side of him exists, I feel myself leaning away. Not enough that he or anyone else would notice, but enough that I’m reminded that I have a conscience that hasn’t forgotten there’s more to him than what meets the eye.

“I’m an investor,” he answers. “My father was a considerably wealthy man.”

My friends all sort of lean in as he speaks, falling under his spell.

“As his only son, when he died, he left everything to me. So, the portion not sitting in either stocks, bonds, or foreign accounts… is tied up in real estate and several local businesses.”

I study him, wondering if this is even true, but I’m inclined to believe him for some reason.

“So, what I’m hearing is, if I ever have a business idea that requires a little seed money, you’re the man to see?” Dove asks.

Damien nods, indulging her. “Absolutely. Wouldn’t even think twice about it.”

The girls continue rapid firing one question after the other, and it’s beyond clear that they’re impressed. Beyond Damien’s looks, he’s quite the force to be reckoned with. He has this unnerving ability to disarm an entire room with his presence, and it’s fascinating to watch him work his way into my friends’ hearts, earning their trust before they’ve even caught his last name. His charm is more than just a trait.

It’s a fucking weapon.

I zone out listening to the conversation, only now remembering Martinez is here. This time, I don’t deny myself the opportunity to see the sour look I imagine to be on his face. I turn and, sure enough, his eyes are on me, and his nostrils flare with anger when we lock in on each other. The audacity it takes for him to actually be pissed that I’m not alone tonight whilehe’shere with someone is off the charts.

He cuts his eyes off from me, practically scowling as he faces his date again, but it doesn’t look like things are going so well from here. The girl looks bored because Martinez is hardly speaking to her, and the way his knee is shaking beneath the table, I’m guessing he’s too angry to care. So, when I glance back toward Damien, falling under his spell along with everyone else, it’s hard not to feel like I’ve won this round.

Without even trying, might I add.

My girls aren’t easy to woo, which is why I’m thoroughly surprised and impressed by Damien seeming to already have them wrapped around his finger. He did in one night what Martinez couldn’t do in six months, and I’d be lying if I said watching him isn’t a turn on. If I had underwear on, they’d be soaked through by now.

“Well, I must say, the small amount of information we were able to pull out of Layla about you didn’t do you justice,” Eliza comments, and the others quickly concur.

“The next time we hang out, and it isn’t a girls-only event, you have our permission to join,” Dove chimes in, joking but not.

“I’m honored to be invited. Thank you.”

Dove nods graciously toward Damien, then orders another drink from our waiter. While the girls are distracted, I whisper again.

“You’ve done the impossible. You’ve won my friends over. Trust me, that almost never happens.”

Warm lips move against my ear when he whispers back. “And what about you? Have I wonyouover yet?”

My heart does that thing again where it skips several beats. In my peripheral, as I’m leaning into Damien, contemplating how to respond, I catch the moment Martinez decides to call it a night, casting a dirty look my way before escorting his date to the lobby. I consider Damien’s question again, and despite myself, despite how many have suffered by his hand… I nod and utter the answer I believe he’s been waiting for.

“Yes.”

A warm surge of air leaves him, moving against my neck. Because there are others around, he doesn’t stay there long. But he places a lingering kiss just beneath my ear that fans the flames ignited when I first laid eyes on him tonight.

I’m not a bad person.

I know right from wrong.

I’m not a violent person and would never dream of hurting anyone.

But there’s this part of me that likes to pretend Damien isn’t capable of any of those things either. It was a small lie I told myself at first, but now that I’ve felt the electricity between us, I’ve edited the words, cycling a new string of lies on repeat inside my head.

He’s not all bad.

I’m still in control and can end this whenever I want to.

I’m not starting to fall.

22

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