Page 70 of Devilry

He maneuvers himself to his side, propping himself up on his elbow. “Come here.” He wraps an arm around my torso and shifts me into him, my back curved to his front. Peppering kisses up and down the column of my neck, he guides our heads down to rest on the pillows.

Tucking myself into him, he hugs me. Tight. Firm. It’s illogical that this could feel just as good as kissing, but feeling safe and wanted, in Cole’s arms, does more for me than I could ever imagine. I can’t remember the last time someone justheld me.

I needed this. And he knew.

My breath hitches, small gasps of air tearing through the thick waves of emotion. I grip his arms and squeeze him to me, trying to convey how I feel.

I feel his warm breath on my neck and the rise and fall of his body with each inhale and exhale. The moment is serene, peace that I never knew washing over me.

I want to look at him. I want to thank him, but I’m too overwhelmed. Sensing it, he begins grazing his fingertips up and down my forearm, calming down my erratic heartbeat.

“What happened to Alex?” he asks.

“Nothing.” I remember how my father tried to embarrass his parents about their son’s sexuality, but his parents had his back. They supported their child in all the ways parents are expected to. They told my father if he couldn’t be accepting of the people in his congregation, then they wouldn’t be a part of it. My dad threw the scriptures at them, and they didn't budge. They told him how they raised their son was none of his business. I envied Alex. “They ended up leaving. Moving away.”

“And you never stayed in contact?”

“No,” I whisper. “I never even got to say goodbye.”

15

Cole

Every word brought a new bout of emotions. Every part of me felt like it’d been dragged through the ringer, trying to fathom how the people who are supposed to love you unconditionally, could be so callous and cruel. It was obvious they’d left scars, their silent and degrading form of punishment infiltrating every decision he’d ever made. It was breaking my heart.

I’d never been more grateful for the love my own parents showered me in than in this moment.

I held on to him, because I needed the comfort. We both did. I needed to erase the look of loneliness off of his face. Try and erase his feelings of inadequacy, and work to process the unforgivable way his parents made him suffer. Especially his father.

Solitude was his only friend, and it pained me. It stoked the protective desire that formed for him from the moment I met him, threatening to engulf me in flames. I couldn’t explain the draw or the reasons, but I wanted to keep him safe by my side and hide him away from every little thing that could hurt him.

I move my hand from around his waist and begin to lazily stroke his hair. The thin, soft strands slip through my fingers easier than the styled look should allow.

“I thought my mom would try and stick up for me, you know?” he blurts out, surprising me. Now that he’s started talking about his past, it’s like he can’t stop. “Turns out the loyalty she had to him far outweighed whatever it was she felt for me.”

Baffled by how he was repeatedly let down, I let my touch do the talking, hoping he can interpret it for what it is.I’m here, baby. I’m listening.

“She was the buffer between us,” he finishes. “In her world, she probably thinks she’s making the effort, doing the right thing. It’s obvious I’ll always be the one in the wrong, especially when I’m constantly refusing her poor attempts at communication.” He pushes his body further back, allowing himself to be completely comfortable in my hold. “But it felt like such a consolation prize you know? She never once told him he was wrong. Keeping the peace was more important than sticking up for me, and in my eyes she’s just as to blame as he is.”

“Do you still speak to her now that you’ve left?”

“She calls,” he says with a sigh. “I answer her scripted questions about school and then I rush her into saying goodbye. Rinse and repeat.”

I press my mouth to the back of his ear and whisper, “I’m sorry, Elijah.”

“Thank you.” He grabs my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it.

We sit in a comfortable, contemplative silence. Something that I’ve never done with anyone, yet with Elijah it feels so natural and is becoming so easy.

I want every piece of his body, but it’s the odd sense of contentment I feel at having him in my arms that surprises me more.

I move my mouth down his neck, leaving soft kisses in my wake. Back up his jaw and settling on his cheek, everything about him is smooth and warm. Turning toward me, he shifts so he’s now laying on his back, face up, deep green eyes boring into mine.

His memories from earlier play on a loop, and as natural and necessary as hugging him felt, so does the next thing I’m about to do. I lightly rub at the worry lines in between his eyebrows with my fingers before moving them down the bridge of his nose and then resting them at the tip. I then trace the shape of his pale pink lips; pouty and perfect.

He’s watching me with wonder and curiosity, while I take mental notes of every inch of his beautiful face. Reading my mind, he tilts his head up as I lower my mouth to his.

My lips move, slow and tentative, giving this moment the pace it deserves. Despite the desperation that pulses through me, I caress my tongue against his with the utmost reverence. Tasting him. Enjoying him.

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