Page 111 of Devoted

‘Close the door before you embarrass yourself further.’

I fought against the urge, instead tapping my foot on the floor rhythmically. Grace’s eyes darted downwards in confusion. Shit, she probably thought I was being rude, but it was better than slamming the door in her face.

“Thank you,” I managed to get out. It definitely wasn’t a smile I sent her way, but it was the closest I could achieve with the need to follow the compulsion riding me. “I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Grace bit her lip uncertainly before turning on her heel and walking away.

Closing the door, I hated the relief that rushed through me. Collapsing back against the wood, I buried my head in my hands. Why did my brain have to make everything so fuckinghard?

My self-pity spiral would have to wait though, as another, much firmer knock, echoed through the room.

This time, it was Rami standing there, an easy grin on his lips. “Forgive us, I don’t think Grace was clear. She’s too nice really. What she meant to say was that youhaveto eat, so you can either join us, or we’ll bring you a plate. What would you prefer?”

His direct approach had my brain scrambling. “Umm…”

Rami’s eyes flashed with amusement. “You’ll join us? Great. Come on, I’ll walk you down.”

Just like that, he was sliding his arm through mine and leading me down the hallway. I tripped over my feet, trying to mentally and physically keep up with the huge man. “Really, I’m?—”

“If you tell me you’re not hungry, I’ll put you over my shoulder and carry you there myself.” He said it in such a cheerymanner that I figured he was kidding, but the raised brow he shot my way changed my mind. “If it’s too much and you want to leave, no one will say a word. I’ll even walk you back to your room if you like.”

“Okay.” Funnily enough, having someone else take the decision out of my hands worked wonders on my brain. With clear and direct instructions to follow, my OCD didn’t really have anywhere to go.

I was sure it would find a path eventually though. Hopefully it’d let me eat first.

Rami flashed me one more grin before shoving open the kitchen door. The noise hit me like a wave, several voices calling out in greeting. Music was playing from a Bluetooth speaker on the windowsill. Various scents wafted from the cooker Rami bustled over to, humming along with the music. All the overhead lights were on too, compensating for the incoming evening.

Suddenly my collar was too close to my throat. I tugged on it, trying to stretch the material. My chest felt too tight, my head swimming as my senses were overloaded.

‘See? You were always going to fail. There’s no way you’ll make it through this meal without making everyone hate you.’

Sadly, I agreed with my brain. All signs pointed to this ending in disaster.

Grace put a bowl filled with salad on the island, a soft smile blooming in my direction. “You came.”

“You’re too nice,” Rami called over his shoulder, stirring something in the huge pot.

Grace rolled her eyes, ignoring him. “Take a seat, Sam. I’ll bring your food over.”

The twins and Noah were already sat there, taking up the seats where I’d sat with Zeke earlier. I eyed the empty spots around the table. ‘Too close to the door. That one’s facing the wrong way. Can’t sit in that one either, it doesn’t have arms.’

Yep that was a fun stage to reach—where I was so overstimulated that even the type of chair mattered. I liked to feel like the chair was containing me, keeping me safe.

Logically, I knew that didn’t make sense.

But emotionally, that didn’t matter.

I swallowed, but it didn’t help. My mouth felt like it was filled with sawdust. “It’s okay, I can grab one myself.”

Grace looked like she was going to argue, but Rami cleared his throat loudly, giving her a pointed stare. She sighed, giving up with a shrug.

My chest eased slightly. Maybe I could eat up at the island. That could work. My back would be to the main door, but not the door leading outside.

Yes, that could work.

Plan in place, I squared my shoulders and made my way to the island. The plates were stacked on the side, various dishes surrounding them. My appetite had vanished, replaced with anxiety, but I knew I had to eat. Starving myself would only make it worse.

There was a large dish of what looked like paella. I fucking loved paella.