Page 37 of The Promises We Make

“Cut!” the director calls. “Devon, you missed your cue.”

Calebgrips my chin, keeping my face tipped up to his soIcan’t turn to see what the commotion is about.Hissmile grows, andIcan’t look away from the mischief glittering in his eyes.

“Ineed a few minutes,”Devoncalls.

Calebchuckles. “Devon, then.”Itisn’t a question.

Idon’t have time to do more than shake my head in an attempt at denial beforeDevon’sbig body is muscling between us.

“Shae, canItalk to you?” he says, and there’s no missing the growl in his tone.

Calebwinks and lets me go.

Devonpierces him with a glare, then grabs my hand and tugs me after him. “Ijust need to talk toShaeabout something,” he calls over his shoulder to the room at large as he pulls me out the door.

“Devon, what are you doing?”

Hedoesn’t answer me.Justdrags me along the hallway until he finds an open storage closet.Hepushes me inside and closes the door behind us.

Ifumble for the light switch.Whenit clicks on,Istare at him. “Whatare you doing?You’resupposed to be filming.”

“Whatareyoudoing,Shae?Caleb?Really?”

Ijerk back, shocked at his tone. “Iwasn’t doing anything.Thatwas all him.ButifIdidwant to do something withCaleb, then it’s really none of your business.”

Hestares at me, his jaw rigid. “Idon’t like seeing him with his hands on you.”

Ihuff out a breath. “Well,Idon’t particularly like seeing you all overMelody.ButIdon’t get a say in that, doI?”Thewords spill out of me beforeIcan think them through.

Hiseyes flare bright, then darken in an instant.Hetakes a step forward andIcan feel the heat rolling off his bare chest. “Areyou jealous,Shae?”Hisvoice has gone low and rough.

Angerburns inside me.Hehas no right. “Areyou,Devon?”

Hehesitates, then releases a harsh breath. “Ishouldn’t be.”

Theanger dissipates, replaced by resignation. “NeithershouldI.”

Searchingmy face, his expression shadowed with remorse, he mutters, “Ishouldn’t have done it.”

Iflinch, even thoughIalready know he regrets it.Justlike he regretted kissing me in high school.

Buthe shakes his head. “YouknowIshouldn’t have.Becausethings have changed between us.”

Itry to stop my lower lip from trembling.There’sno point crying; it won’t help.

“Ididn’t like seeingCalebtouching you,”Devonsays again, more gently this time. “Icouldn’t concentrate on whatIwas supposed to be doing becauseIkept looking over at you.”

“Doyou want me to go?”

Heturns away from me, grips the back of his neck with both hands, and looks up at the ceiling, the muscles lining his shoulders tight with tension.

Noanswer is answer enough. “I’llgo,”Isay, reaching for the handle.ButbeforeIcan turn it, his big body is pressing against my back.I’mpinned between him and the door.

Insteadof feeling trapped, the wayIdid withPhillip, my body lights up, nerve endings crackling to life.Iclench my eyes shut.

“Jesus,Shae,”Devonmutters into my hair. “Iclose my eyes, andIcan still taste you.”

Ashudder ripples down my spine, andDevon’shands drop, his fingers curling around my hips as he pulls me back against him.He’shard where he’s pressing against my ass, and a throb starts deep in my core.

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