Page 6 of All the Devils are Here

He caught my wrists and held them. Not hard, but enough to make my heart pound harder. My mind spun, imagining him pinning me down beneath him.

“We can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t.”

“Wait—”

“Have better dreams,” he said quietly, kissing the back of one hand before placing them at my sides and stepping back. It was too dark to see his face, but there was no way I could have imagined the heat I felt in his gaze. Right?

Right?

I stood by the counter until I heard his bedroom door close.

Blinking back the memory, I was in front of Laurent’s door. Earlier, when he’d served coffee with the two of us so close, it was all I could do not to lean in and try one more time. Because ever since he’d kissed me, nothing else had even been close to enough.

I pushed inside, listening for sounds of him, and heard nothing. Maybe he was sleeping again? That was okay. He seemed really out of sorts, and I felt bad for interrupting his rest. It was a Friday, so hopefully, he’d still have some time this weekend to recharge. Laurent was a doctor. Even as casual a practice as I knew he had, it still had to be exhausting.

Heaving my suitcase onto the bed, I opened it and started looking through it for something to wear. Not all of my clothes were here, but a lot of them were. If I didn’t find something soon, I would have to go back or cancel my lease in New York. But I had some time and some savings, so that wasn’t anything I needed to worry about tonight.

A short, sparkly dress jumped out at me. I didn’t feel the urge to wear it, but it was something the old Meg might wear, and that made it appealing. It was a deep turquoise, and I dug out my makeup and did something that complimented—gold with accents of the same turquoise.

I did my hair too, curling it and coating it with dry shampoo so it didn’t seem like I’d just gotten off a twelve hour flight.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe Ishouldjust stay here and read a book. Fall asleep if my body needed it, fuck jet lag. Just go to the party tomorrow instead.

I closed my eyes, emotion rushing up so quickly I was going to ruin my makeup. Hot tears pressed behind my eyelids, and I breathed in and out. The feeling of loneliness was so deep and so sharp it was gutting. Nothing felt right. Going out didn’t feel right and staying here didn’t feel right. I didn’t have a place anymore, and it was brutal.

Once I felt like I wasn’t going to spill over, I opened my eyes and looked in the small mirror on the wall. I looked like the old Meg. Now maybe I could pretend to be her, even if just for one night.

In the hallway, I heard movement, and the sound of Laurent going downstairs. I didn’t know if I was ready to see him, but it was too late for that. It was later than I thought—I’d taken my time getting ready and sitting in my self-pity.

Strapping on the shoes I was sure would hurt me later, I slipped my wallet into the pocket of my coat and went downstairs. Laurent was sitting in his small living room, a book open on the arm of the chair. He looked up when I appeared, and his eyes roved over me, taking in the dress under my coat, my shoes, and the curls in my hair.

Again, I felt like there was heat in his gaze. But if there was any kind of desire there, why had he pushed me away?

He smiled. “I thought you might change your mind.”

With the memory of his kiss so close to the surface, it struck me how much better his English was now. It was still accented in a way that made me want to have him read to me. It was like catnip. But where his English had been a little broken when we met, now it was perfect.

There was no way it had to do with me, but I wasn’t going to pretend like I didn’t want it to be.

“I almost did. But I’ll give it a go,” I said. “Any chance I can somehow convince you to go with me?”

Laurent stood, and for the first time I took in what he was wearing. Dark jeans and a dark gray shirt pushed up to show off his forearms. They weren’t fancy, but they feltintentional. Not the kind of clothes I knew he wore to meet his patients.

He caught my look and smiled. “What kind of host would I be if I let you go alone?”

There were butterflies in my stomach as I watched him put on his coat. “You don’t have to, Laurent.”

He smirked and opened the front door for me. “I know.”

It was all I could do not to inhale his scent as I stepped past him into the darkening night.

CHAPTER THREE

____________

ARIEL

The image of the woman shifted as wind blew across the surface of the water. I was in the corner, looking over his shoulder, keeping myself as loose and formless as I could.

---