Page 127 of Devious Love
Not the full sleeve she’s seen a thousand times. No, she’s discovered the two words inked over my heart.My Mayhem.
Even when I couldn’t have her, I carried her with me. In my heart, exactly where she belongs.
She’s stunned, off-kilter, so I push her a little more. I grab my sweatpants from my bag. “Are you changing or what? I’m just about ready to pass out.”
She shakes her head, as if trying to bring herself back to reality. “Yeah. Sure.” She fishes her pjs out of her suitcase then narrows her eyes at me. “Turn around.” She clears her throat. “Please.”
Smirking, I do as she says, giving her my back—only to find I’m facing a mirror. Behind me, her back turned, she slips on a tiny pair of cotton shorts first then yanks off her dress. When she bends to take her tee from the bed, I catch a glimpse of her pebbled nipple, and my heart thrashes in my chest. As she’s pulling her hair out from her collar, she turns, and when our eyes meet in the mirror, her breath hitches.
“You should’ve told me you could see me.”
I lift a shoulder. “You didn’t say no mirrors. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
Rather than react, she climbs into bed. I follow her lead and slip into my sleeping bag. With one hand behind my head, I stare at the ceiling.
“Did you ever think about it?” I ask her after a few minutes.
“About what?” Her voice is soft and so damn familiar.
“About coming back.”
For a long moment, she doesn’t speak, and when she does, her words throw me off.
“Did you ever think about telling me the truth?”
Dread curls through me. “About what?”
“I stayed in Monterey for four months after our breakup. I know you never got back together with Remi.”
Bile claws its way up my throat, but I swallow it back. “And?”
“Did you sleep with her that night?”
“No. Nothing happened beyond what you saw.”
She turns and sighs, the sheets rustling. She doesn’t say anything else. I keep quiet too, knowing perfectly well this is far from over.
CHAPTER 37
say it, baby
DOMINIC
Age 27
September
As morning light filters in,I stretch slowly, my muscles sore from sleeping on the floor. I stand silently in an effort not to wake her, but as I pull up to my full height, I realize it was all for nothing. Her bed is already empty.
After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I pull on a tee and head downstairs. The house is quiet, though it smells like coffee and bacon and something sweet.
I find Mia exactly where I knew she’d be: at the stove, flipping pancakes. Her hair is in a messy bun, and an oversized tee slips off her shoulder. The tiny shorts she slept in give me a great view of her bare legs. She’s completely at ease, in her element.
She flips the bacon, and as she sets the tongs down, she looks up, catching me staring. “You survived the floor?”
I rub the back of my neck and wince, playing it up a little. “Barely. Two more nights of that, and I’ll need a massage as soon as we get back to Monterey.” I step up beside her andtake the spatula out of her hand. She lets me and picks up the tongs again. Side by side, we work, me flipping pancakes and her checking the bacon. My heart is full, my skin humming. I’d spend a thousand nights on the floor if it allowed me to be this close to her.
“You said you’re coaching now, right? Do you like it?”
