Page 70 of Hidden Lies

But he didn’t answer. He gave my hand a tug, pulling me in closer on the bench. His hand came up to my face, tracing along my jaw. “I’m sorry, Millie. I hate that you were hurt and we weren’t there to stop it. I hate that we couldn’t protect you. I swear it’ll never happen again.”

“You don’t have to protect me,” I told him. “You just have to tell me what I’m up against so I can protect myself.” I meant it, but there wasn’t any heat in my words as I leaned into his touch.

“We will,” he told me. “As soon as we can, we will. I promise.”

He leaned close, and sealed his promise with a kiss. His mouth moved slow and languid against mine, heating me from the inside out. I could feel him pouring his emotions into the kiss, guilt over letting me get hurt, relief that I was back safe and sound, desire and the force of how he cared for me. I drank it all in, returning the kiss just as fiercely, and even though he couldn’t tell me what I wanted to know, his kiss made it clear that he desperately wanted to.

A gust of icy wind broke us apart, and he chuckled against my mouth.

“C’mon, let’s get you to the auditorium before Frank thinks you blew her off.”

* * *

If Frank wondered why Devan of all people was there to help out, she didn’t say so, though she did seem startled when we entered together, and I caught her glancing his way on a few occasions, like he was some kind of unpredictable half-tame animal that seemed to be behaving but might at any second go on a rampage and break all the furniture.

She did, however, ask me what happened to my arm, though she seemed to accept my hastily concocted story about a fall off a ladder over break, glancing suspiciously at Devan only briefly before nodding sympathetically.

It turned out there wasn’t too much left to do. Frank and Nora were both in the school orchestra, and apparently the orchestra and choir always held a winter concert on the second weekend in December, right at the end of the semester. So far they’d been making do with practice space in G-B Arts, but rehearsal would start in the auditorium this week while they geared up for the performance in a couple of weeks. The room we were clearing out was a small practice room behind the stage, which had been used as a storage space.

Two other students had been helping to clear it out as well, but they were already gone, leaving the three of us to finish moving the last of the chairs and music stands and assorted boxes out of the space. We worked quietly, or at least Devan and Frank did, moving around each other cautiously while I did what few tasks I could with one arm.

When only a few boxes remained, Devan’s phone rang, and after a short conversation he excused himself.

“I need to get back to the dorm,” he told me in a low voice after he’d pulled me aside, not offering any further explanation. “Stay with Frank, okay? Don’t walk back to the dorms alone.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I thought Garrett said I was safe on campus.”

“He did. You are,” he assured me. “Just…I’ll feel better knowing you’re with Frank, okay?”

I shrugged and nodded.

“I’ll see you later,” he promised, then squeezed my good arm briefly before heading out.

Frank barely waited until the door closed behind him before rounding on me with narrowed eyes. “Sooooo, Devan Moore, huh? Tell me the truth, did he hurt your arm?”

“What? No!” I exclaimed. “He didn’t, I swear. He wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Hmph,” she grumbled. “‘Cause that sounds a lot like what Julie said when she came home with a black eye.”

I winced internally at the idea of Devan being compared to Drew, but outwardly I looked at her steadily. “I promise, it really wasn’t him,” I said firmly.

She studied me a moment longer, then seemed to accept it, turning to resume her work. Her braids clicked together as she bent to pick up another box, moving it out to the adjacent storage closet.

“Nora thought you might be dating Micah Hartsough,” she said when she returned. “But it’s Devan you’re with, isn’t it?”

I ducked my head so she wouldn’t see my cheeks flame. “I’m not sure I’m dating anyone,” I said.

She eyed me sidelong. “Just be careful, huh? There’s something off about those guys.”

I gave a noncommittal grunt that she seemed to translate as assent, and to my relief she let the subject drop. I awkwardly finished sweeping the floor one-handed while she moved the last few boxes, and then we were finally done.

“Thanks for helping with this,” she said, dusting her hands off on her jeans. “I get extra credit for helping out, and I know Nora sent you in her place. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” I told her with a nod as we pulled our coats on, bundling up against the frigid evening temperatures.

We made small talk as we walked. I asked her about her vacation and she told me about her parents’ house in Colorado, which from her description hardly qualified as a ‘house.’

We walked quickly, eager to get out of the cold, but when the path forked, one trail leading to the dorms and the other toward the dining hall, she pulled up short.

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