Page 1 of Devilry

Prologue

Elijah

THREE YEARS EARLIER

“Do you really think we should be doing this?” I ask, adrenaline and fear my motivation for the question.

“What?” He brushes my wayward hair out of my eyes. “Hiding behind the church, while everybody is inside listening to the sermon?”

“Well, yes, that, but I mean this.” I gesture between us.

Grabbing my hand he brings it to his chest, my palm now privy to the frantic beat of his heart. Wanting him to know I feel it, too, I mirror his actions, until we’re both standing there, staring at one another, vulnerable, exposed, and in absolute awe.

Is this finally happening?

“I’ve never done this before,” I confess.

“I know.” His eyes flicker between my eyes and my lips. “Are you sure about this?”

My stomach flips in anticipation. Am I sure? Absolutely not. Am I going to pass up kissing him? Again, absolutely not. Since the moment Alex crashed into my very small and sheltered world, it’s been endless days and nights of uncertainty paired with an unhealthy amount of addiction.

I can’t get enough of him, especially the way he makes me feel. The relief that these long sixteen years of my life haven’t been wasted, the exhilaration that I’ve finally found the person I was searching for.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t him I was looking for.

It was me.

The son of a pastor, my life is only supposed to run on the straight and narrow. Know your purpose, hear your calling. They’re the words my father drums into me, every day. But no matter how hard I try to listen, to hear God’s voice, I’m only ever left feeling out of place. Out of sync.

Until right now, I didn’t even feel right in my own skin. Like God had sewn me up all wrong and the seams didn’t meet up. I know I’m different. I also know exactly what it is that sets me apart, but that doesn’t mean I’ve always been ready to accept it.

Nothing about me is straight and narrow.

Not my needs.

Not my wants.

Not my hopes.

Not my dreams.

And definitely not my sexuality.

With his unruly hair, piercing blue eyes, and unapologetic nature, Alex has been a breath of fresh air in my very stale and stuffy life.

Gradually, he’s been teaching me how to be myself. Before him, I had feared the truth. Living every day with so much uncertainty, it’s become painful to even look at myself in the mirror. Every waking moment I’m pretending to love myself on the outside, while I quietly, but painfully berate myself on the inside.

I don’t want to live like this anymore, and he knows it. He’s seen me for what I am and who I want to be.

Slowly but cautiously, he’s bringing me out of my shell. Moment after moment he validates my existence, proving to me I can rid myself of the doubt and rejoice in my differences.

“Answer me, Eli, because we’ve been dancing around this for too long.” He steps closer. “And I want to be your first so fucking bad.”

“I’ve kissed someone before,” I protest.

“Have you kissed a guy?”

Even though we’ve already had this conversation, my traitorous cheeks still flush at his forwardness. “No.”

---