Leanne Davis [Davis - Devon

C LAUDIA

I suck in a breath and mentally prepare to enter his bedroom. He isnt answering my knocks. He either passed out from alcohol or fell into a sex coma. Could be both. I gnash my teeth as my hand grips the round silver doorknob. I detest having to do this. Of course, Devon would argue, and quite correctly, that I dont have to. I choose to do this. I choose to bring this on myself. But I would argue back to himand my nagging inner voicehed be screwed for life if I dont do this.

I clench my teeth, chanting to my brain: be ready for anything. Anything at all. Opening the door might break my heart into a thousand pieces, or perhaps it will just irritate me. He might not even be here, and all my anxiety and anticipation would be for nothing, although my heart would dip since I cant see him. I hate myself for all three possible reactions.

Why cant I just be content with nothing? Friendship? Friendliness? I wish I didnt have any feelings about whatever awaits me on the other side of the door. For many years Ive wished this.

Seems like Ive never stopped wishing for it. How long have I fretted and mooned over the one guy I cant have? Worse still, the one guy I cant seem to get over. Devon.

Devon Willapana. Stupid Devon. Wonderful Devon. He is both and everything in between.

Now here I am having to forcibly enter his bedroom. Strike that, I dont have to. But if I dont, no one else will. It could mess up his life and the most important relationships that should mean the world to him. He is allowing her to almost ruin it for him. Once he gets over her and grows up, hell see she isnt worth the loss of his entire family. And if he fails to show up today, they will be furious. So furious, it might do long-term, if not permanent, damage to their opinions of him. That matters, even if right now Devon doesnt see it. I do. And sometimes I know Devon better than he knows himself. That includes knowing whats best for him.

Like today.

So whatever I find in this room is just whatever it is. I came here to give him plenty of time to dress and get decent, so I might as well start the process.

I turn the door handle and barely open the bedroom door a crack. Childishly, I fight the urge to squint my eyes shut. But thats just stupid. I might be considered clumsy and sometimes perhaps a bit too bubbly, but I was never stupid. My college grade point average and test scores confirm that. I lift my eyes up and see Devon sprawled all over his bed.

Hes lying on his side with one leg bent, the covers stretched super low over his butt. I pry my gaze off him and try to avoid staring at him in this situation. It isnt how I would choose to find him. Unfortunately, there were a few other occasions when I had to drag him over to visit the family. It wasnt the first time I observed this kind of behavior and also not surprising to walk in on this exact scene. Lying next to him is someone. I suck in an involuntary breath as if the edge of a sharp knife has just made contact with my skin. God! I detest someone else being there, like this.

But thats Devon. And this is what he does. And how he chooses to live his life. This is also how he chooses to treat the women he brings into it.

I hate it every time I encounter it. His behavior sometimes even makes me hate him. I shrug my shoulders and remind myself that isnt the point of my being here today. My mission is to expedite his journey into someday-in-the-future, a day when he will (hopefully) turn out to be a better Devon. But mostly, my mission is for Dayshia. She deserves to have Devon in her life, even if he hasnt earned her love or affection yet. Nor has he earned me and what I have to offer him. Not yet.

The prickling stab is moving from my skin to my heart. Thats because Id take him in a nanosecond the way he is, even like this.

I hate knowing that pathetic frailty about myself.

The thing is, its not even a consideration between us.

I stand for a second to steel my heart and brain as I prepare to face this. For Dayshia.

Slamming the bedroom door, my intention is to awaken them. Oh, how I hate that its a them. Who is she? Someone he met through work? Or friends? Or possibly picked up last night? There are half-filled bottles of beer on his nightstand and clothes strewn at the end of the bed and across the floor. Devon is so meticulous at work, but outside of it he is the opposite.

She testifies to that. She, whoever she is, awakens suddenly when I slam the door. Her neck strains as she glances at me over her toes. She isnt covered up either. Her eyes are glazed over, but after a second, she becomes aware of the situation and gasps. Her arm covers her chest, and we stare at each other. I am looking over her toes at the moment. Then, she says, Hes married? in a tone that sounds both defeated and sadly, tolerant. Dear Lord, the woman seems so familiar with these situations. Maybe she ought to find a different type of guy.

I shake my head, averting my gaze to stare at the door of his walk-in closet. No. Im just a friend. Sorry. He has an appointment, and Im here to collect him. He didnt answer his phone or my knocks, so here I am.

I hear her sighing from the bed and sense her moving. From the corner of my eye, I see her legs swinging over the side of the bed. She leans down and takes a moment before she rises. She puts a t-shirt of Devons on, and it nearly covers her as she gets to her feet. Now that shes clothed, I can turn back and observe her. Tall and gorgeous, with rich, smooth, black skin, her hair is neatly slicked back into a bun. A few fine hairs have escaped, presumably from last nights activities.

She turns and pushes on Devons ass. Hey someones here.

Grunting, Devon pushes her hand off him and turns away. His torso is barely covered by the blanket and sheet, dangerously close to revealing his bare ass. He buries his face harder into the pillow.

Hey um She pauses as she glances back at me. Crap! I think shes trying to remember his name. She rubs her temple, and her eyelids look heavy, and she swallows as if shes very thirsty.

I shift my glance from her and say loudly, Devon. Hey, Devon! Wake up!

His head pops up, and he cranes his neck before he catches me in his view. The moment that happens, I watch his entire body stiffen before he flops his head back down and begins talking into the pillow. His words come out both garbled and muted, but the annoyance in his tone is sharply clear. Get out, Claudia.

Get out, Claudia? His terse response rings through my brain, making my anger rise like bubbles in hot water. The woman in his bed doesnt even know his name. Doesnt that make him feel bad? Or does he feel nothing? Screw him. Clip him off like a dead branch and screw him. But of course, I never follow through with that wise advice.

Devon. You have to get up now.

He turns away from me, so I have to stare at the back of his head lying on the pillow. I dont have to do anything. You can just leave.

You have to come. You cant My tone rises with my anger. Im interrupted by the quieter, deeper voice of the stranger who keeps staring between us.

Um perhaps you could give us a moment of privacy?

Devons head whips up and back when he realizes it isnt my voice. I almost screech my annoyance out loud. He didnt even remember she was there. Not until that moment. She, whoever she is, seems to realize that, and her lips tighten. He sits up in the middle of his bed, draping the covers loosely over his lower half. I hate myself for staring at his naked chest. He isnt cut anything like his brother. Hes much more slender. He hates that description too, but he must be my type, since I still cant pry my eyes off him. I am practically salivating after him, despite all the reasons why I should not. Including the woman now standing between us whom neither of us can identify.