Page 69 of Devour

“I’d be awfully disappointed if we had to stop before you got off.”

Oh. Oh, no. He wasn’t playing fair.

“You know much I love seeing you enjoy yourself.”

And horny again. Thanks a lot. “Why must you use your powers for evil?” I whispered back.

He softly laughed and kissed my temple. “Don’t make threats. No one wins, but especially not you.”

“And what’s winning look like?”

“When you listen well, you get to hear how good you’ve been.” And he ruffled my hair for emphasis.

Sigh. Even if he delighted in my torment, I still loved my evil hubby. Wouldn’t change him for the world.

You love getting off. After his mental correction, he rolled his eyes and settled back down against the headboard.

Well, undeniably, yes. The two were not mutually exclusive, in my opinion. And even though he didn’t say it aloud, hubby obviously disagreed.

Ever since my birthday, something felt… off. No, I felt off. Less myself. Maybe more myself. And being around Rhory lately made me feel… icky. Not him, per se, but the emotions that grew in my gut through no fault of his. We would always be out somewhere, maybe with Asher or Ember and their spouses. Rhory would frolic away to the bar or somewhere similar (wherever a crowd gathered and to whoever caught his eye). Everyone else would dismiss the social butterfly ditching us because that was so Rhory. And while all of this went on, I would sulk. I hated using that word but undeniably, yes, I would sit there feeling suddenly alone, despite the other people around me, and sulk.

Why? Rhory and I had been friends now for over a decade. This wasn’t a new behavior on his part. He always left and went elsewhere for a time, to the point our friends expected him to leave to flirt or socialize or whatever. He had always been this way. And even though I alone had the additional knowledge that he left us solely to feed some—maybe out of need or purely out of habit—I would watch him from a distance, and sulk. Because I couldn’t do anything about it. Because I was in no position to ask him not to do it in front of me, even if not seeing it made it easier to ignore altogether. Because even I realized how toxic that sounded, especially considering we were basically friends with benefits in a pseudo-sexual relationship.

Yet, I sulked each time Rhory slid from the booth to abandon us because when we went out alone together, Rhory stuck to me like glue the entire time. We didn’t have to worry about what our friends thought about us. I didn’t have to dwell on how I felt watching someone hit on him, because all it took was a glare from me for anyone to back off. And in some ways, in those times with only the two of us, it almost felt like we were a couple. Almost.

Then Rhory and I would go out with a group, and he’d leave me sitting across the room, watching his every move while trying my very best to appear unbothered by it all. When it did bother me—irrational as it might be—and it did so without fail. And the worst part was knowing my thoughts would find their way whispering back to him if I didn’t throw up a wall and shut him out. I couldn’t handle him knowing. Until this point, I got by telling myself he didn’t have a clue. How could he? I never let him believe otherwise. So, Rhory continued living like himself, as he always had, and I’d smile and laugh along with my friends. Because that was just so Rhory, the version we all knew. And loved.

This time we gathered for Ember’s birthday. Which meant Ember had the idiot keeping her occupied, Asher remained enthralled with Owen, and I had only a drink for company while I nonchalantly tracked Rhory across the bar. He tried a dye job called an oil slick this time, which did not sound glamorous, but really and honestly this might be my new favorite—only after the red, of course. Most of his hair remained black, but scattered throughout were subtle highlights of various colors. Only someone who spent as much time as close to him as I did could notice. It suited him.

Rhory didn’t mentally evict me whenever he wandered, at least. Eavesdropping felt sick and only made me feel worse, but I did it anyway. It wasn’t as if I didn’t trust him, either. Worrying made up a huge chunk of my personality. Seeing him all the way over there while I brooded over here with my hands tied—

“Eli, it would be wonderful if you could find the time to actually join us,” Asher teased.

I tore my eyes away from Rhory’s direction but still devoted most of my attention to what I could no longer see.

“You know you’re ridiculous, right?” Asher laughed.

“Am not,” I grumbled.

“He’s not ridiculous. He’s jealous,” Owen corrected with a smile.

“No.” Probably came out too curt, but oh well. While I normally enjoyed Owen’s company and liked him well enough, I did not at this very moment.

“You’re like the dad sitting on the porch cleaning his shotgun when someone picks up his daughter.” Owen laughed and Asher laughed along even harder.

“Maybe,” I conceded with a pleased grin.

Never had I been the jealous type or even the violent type, but Rhory might have been onto something when he called me possessive. Maybe I should say protective. Anyone who harassed Rhory would be finding God, even if I had to take matters into my hands and introduce them to the Lord myself.

“Except I don’t care what Rhory does. I only care what might happen to him,” I said.

“Uh-huh,” Owen said. “You worry too much.”

That much I would never deny, but I couldn’t help myself. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t worry. And since Rhory was someone I cared a great deal about, how much I worried about him reflected that. Didn’t matter how nonsensical that was to everyone else, and I didn’t particularly care if they didn’t understand, either.

“There’s a walking red flag talking to him,” I said, while nodding back at the bar.

“Jealous,” Owen repeated with a grin.

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