Page 48 of Devoted

“I’m always hoping, Sam. I have to hold on to that. If nothing else, I have hope.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, but thankfully, Zeke didn’t seem to need a response. Instead he launched into a story about something one of his housemates, Theo, had done. From what he told me, he sounded far from the academic type I’d imagined he lived with.

I fell asleep to the sound of his voice, earbuds still in my ears.

It wasn’t until I woke up to silence the next morning that I realised something. Something inconsequential, but which seemed to disprove everything Zeke had said about hoping to meet and liking me no matter what I looked like.

He hadn’t asked to see a picture of my face.

It didn’t mean anything. Not really. Logically, I could come up with several reasons why he hadn’t. He might not have thought of it. Maybe he didn’t want to make me uncomfortable. Perhaps he’d been waiting for me to offer it up.

Naturally though, my brain latched on to one reason and one reason only.

‘He doesn’t want to know what you look like in case he thinks you’re unattractive. This way, he can continue just imagining you however he likes.’

It was stupid. This whole thing was stupid. Getting involved with someone over the internet. Having phone sex with them. Wanting to meet up with them but also knowing it wasn’t for the best.

I pulled my duvet back over my head, already knowing today would be a write-off. There was no point trying to do anything today, not with my brain in this state.

I closed my eyes and tried desperately to not think of Zeke.

I failed.

10

Ezekiel

Icouldn’t stop thinking about last night, and not for the reason it should’ve been on my mind.

I didn’t know what had happened, but something in Sam’s voice had shifted. At first, I’d put it down to his OCD maybe having been triggered, but the longer we’d talked for, the less I thought that was the case.

He’d sounded…lonely. Dejected. I’d tried to draw him out of his head by sharing funny stories, but nothing I’d said had had much of an effect.

Eventually he’d fallen asleep while still on the phone to me. I’d lain there listening to his breathing for far longer than I was willing to admit.

Okay, if I was being honest, I hadn’t ended the call until I’d heard him stirring this morning. I’d stayed awake all night, doing nothing but listening to him sleep, just to feel closer to him for a bit longer.

I’d never felt like this about anyone before. There was only one explanation that made sense.

He had to be my mate.

It had occurred to me approximately a thousand times last night to ask for a photo of his face. I didn’t care what he lookedlike, but what if I looked at it and didn’t hear my soul whisper the word I was desperate to hear?

Mate.

I was scared. It was cowardly, but I wasn’t ready to face the truth.

Now though, after obsessing over it for hours, I knew we couldn’t continue like this. It wasn’t fair to either of us.

Besides, if Samwasmy mate, this was pointless. We could be spending this time together, not agonising apart.

But what if he wasn’t? Was I prepared to walk away from him? Or should I spend his mortal lifetime as his partner, praying my mate didn’t show up before then?

Would I even be able to love my mate after loving Sam? I wasn’t saying I was there yet—of course I wasn’t.

But it was all too easy to see how fast I could fall.

“Can you stop tapping that please?”

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