Page 21 of Devoted

He paused, staring at me like I was part of a new study he was fascinated by. “Would you like me to learn more about it? Look up strategies that might help?”

I found myself nodding without even realising I’d come to that decision. “Thanks, Benji.”

“Any time.” He picked his book up; a clear signal that the conversation was over for him now. That was fine, he’d given me more than enough to think about.

I was almost to the door when he spoke again. “Oh, Ez?”

I glanced back over my shoulder to see he hadn’t even raised his eyes from the text. “Yeah?”

“Let me know when you’ve realised this man does matter.” Benji’s voice was distracted, his brow furrowed. “We can talk more then.”

5

Sam

Waking up with a brain full of negative thoughts was standard for me.

The difference today was that they weren’t based on something that might happen, but on something I’ddefinitelydone.

Namely, hitting on Zeke.

Telling him about my fantasy in the first place had been inappropriate.

But asking him if he was picturing me with him in the fantasy?

It was so far beyond inappropriate that it made my earlier blunder look tame in comparison. For fuck’s sake, I may as well have sent him a dick pic and called it a day.

What had I been thinking? We were friends. We’d never seen each other’s faces or heard one another’s voices. There was no way that was going to be changing either.

So why the fuck had I said it? I groaned, pushing the heels of my hands into my eyes. It didn’t help silence the thoughts. It wasn’t even my OCD at this point, just the usual morning-after regret, only without any of the fun of having got off.

I turned my head to glare at my laptop on the desk. The lid was closed, slammed shut after my brain had caught up with my fingers and realised what I’d just typed.

How was I supposed to chat with Zeke now? I’d made a complete and utter tit of myself.

Zeke said it was hot, the rational part of my mind whispered.He was into it.

Now my OCD piped up. ‘He was just trying to make the situation less awkward. He’ll never talk to you again.’

My stomach twisted at the thought. I was mortified, but I hadn’t meant for this to happen. I didn’t want to push him away like I had everyone else in my life.

We’d had a nice thing going. Something happy. Simple.

Now I’d fucked it up, just as I always did.

I bit my lip. What if Zeke had messaged again after I’d gone offline? Or worse, what if he’d left the chat completely?

I sighed, trying to figure out why this was bothering me so much. Upsetting and inadvertently offending others was par for the course with me. I’d been in similar situations a thousand times before. Losing a friend always hurt, but I got over it. I moved on.

Why did I feel like it wouldn’t be that simple with Zeke?

Maybe if I didn’t check, it wouldn’t happen. That was how I decided to approach it—by living in denial. All through my shower, breakfast, and getting dressed, I pointedly didn’t look at the laptop. It didn’t exist. I had no laptop. It was invisible.

I found jobs to do. I cleaned the kitchen, dragged out my sofas and hoovered behind and underneath them, scrubbed the inside of the windows.

I had to keep busy. I had to. If I stopped, I wouldn’t be able to resist checking the conversation. If I didn’t check it, then Zeke wouldn’t have quit the game.

It was only as I was wiping down the skirting boards that I realised what I wasactuallydoing. Dropping the cloth in the bucket, I closed my eyes in frustration. Most of the time, I knew my OCD was creeping up on me. Sometimes though, it caught me off guard.

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