Page 99 of Devilry

Reckless.

Irresponsible.

Irrational.

If I wasn’t careful, I was going to end up somewhere neither Elijah or I could afford to be. In the back of my mind, I could hear that little voice telling me where this is heading, and I can’t seem to steer it into any other direction.

“Living close to the city suits you, Huxley,” Miles teases, oblivious to the tension rolling off me. The waiter leads us out of Elijah’s view and further into the restaurant. “It seems like you’ve settled in and scoped out all the good places.”

“Well, we know you don’t get out much now that you’re all shacked up,” Harper teases.

“I’m so far from shacked up right now.”

“You’re a liar Miles Decker. When you get orgasms on the regular from the same person, you’re shacked up.”

Harper’s voice isn’t low, and we get a few weird looks as we pass other tables. I hope they sit us out of earshot of people, because there’s no doubt Harper and Miles will be at it all night.

Once we’re seated, I look at Miles pointedly, trying to focus on anything else but the shitty feeling inside of me. “Don’t try to argue with her ridiculous woman’s logic. Just agree with her and she’ll drop it a whole lot quicker.”

I almost expect her to bring up our conversation from the other week and call me out on my own shit in front of Miles, but she doesn’t. And with Elijah in breathing distance, my body relaxes in relief. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle any form of a Harper inquisition tonight.

The way I’m feeling, I’m likely to tell them everything, and I don’t care that they’d be supportive and understanding, I can’t risk Elijah’s future like that.

I purposefully avoid looking up at him or his friends, as impossible as it is. He needs space, and if I could walk Harper and Miles back out of this place without a fuss, I would’ve done it already.

“So what do you guys want to order?” Miles asks. “Obviously we’re drinking saké?”

I needed something a lot stronger than saké.

“Do you guys eat sashimi? If you do, we could order a few of their platters and share them?” Harper suggests.

Not really in the mood to argue or prolong our time here, I go along, agreeing to everything she and Miles decide.

While they’re bickering over the way sashimi is “cooked”, I drag out my cell, and against my better judgement, I send Elijah a message.

Me: I’m sorry for showing up like this.

I can’t help but look up at his table, which is situated diagonally across from ours, and wait for him to notice the message.

He’s subtle when reaching for it, his body language giving nothing away.

Elijah: Don’t be sorry.

But I am, I want to shout.

I don’t send a follow up text, because best case scenario we’ll start text flirting and worst case we’ll get into some sort of texting feud which will draw attention to us that neither of us needs.

“Earth to Cole,” Harper calls out, waving her hand in my face. “Are you okay? You’re being awfully quiet considering you were the one so eager to come and eat here.”

“Sorry, I just got distracted for a second there.” I put my phone back in my pocket, and pour myself a glass of table water.

“Was one of those kids a student of yours?” Miles asks.

“What?” I almost choke on my water, his observation catching me off guard. “What do you mean?”

“Callie, the girl sitting with those two boys,” he says, tipping his head in their direction. “She’s in my Juvenile Delinquency class.”

“Isn’t that your favourite class?” Harper mocks.

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