Page 82 of Devoured By You

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Page 82 of Devoured By You

“What’s one more emasculation?” I muttered.

A flash of hurt sped across her face. “Is that what you really think?”

I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment. “No, of course it isn’t. Ignore me. I’m tired. That’s all.”

A wisp of air alerted me to her moving close. When I opened my eyes, she was right in front of me.

“How about you cook the steaks?”

Her soft, tentative suggestion made me feel thoroughly ashamed of myself. I tugged her onto my lap, tucking a thick lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry, Tilly.” I grinned. “Seems like I say that a lot right now.”

“I forgive you.”

“I have no idea why.”

She opened her mouth, then shut it, swallowing whatever it was she’d been about to say.

“Any requests?”

“Yeah, no panties tonight.”

She giggled. “I meant to bring back from the grocery store.”

“Crotchless panties?”

Her head shook at the same time as her shoulders did. “I don’t think they stock those.”

“Shame. They’re missing a revenue stream.”

Her eyes glistened as they often did when I tried to be the guy she’d first met. And sometimes I wasn’t faking it either. I kissed her, then slapped her ass as she climbed off my lap.

“Drive carefully. Better yet, have my driver take you.”

“I can drive. I’m living the SoFlo life, don’t you know?”

“There’s no such thing as SoFlo, only SoCal.”

“Well, there should be.” She flashed me a grin and an accompanying wave. “Be good.”

The door closed. I grabbed my crutches and hobbled over to the window that overlooked the driveway. A few minutes later, Jill appeared behind the wheel of my convertible Ferrari, a car I’d only driven once before deciding it wasn’t for me. I’d considered selling it, but seeing how happy she was as she drove by with a broad grin and the wind blowing her hair, I’d never sell it now.

I returned to my desk and messaged Carly, telling her to cancel all my meetings for the rest of the day. I felt like a complete failure. Every day when I opened my eyes, there was that moment where I forgot what had happened, and I was so goddamn happy. Then reality crashed in, and I had to face up to the fact that I’d spend the rest of my life disabled.

I hadn’t come to terms with it yet. Maybe I never would.

Carly confirmed that she’d handle everything, and I sent a quick “Thanks” before shutting down my computer, the screen going black reminiscent of my rapidly lowering mood. I craved the old me, but even flashes of time when I felt like myself were a sort of torture, because they never lasted. I hated spending time with myself, so why anyone, especially Jill, would want to spend time with me was something that played on my mind far too often.

She still hadn’t said that she loved me, although her actions showed she did.

Then again, I hadn’t told her either.

Did I, though? Or was I so scared of being alone that I was clinging to a future I might not have chosen for myself if I’d never gotten shot?

I didn’t have an answer.

“Blaize.” Renata knocked on my office door. “You have a visitor.”

“Who?” I wasn’t expecting anyone. None of my family were in Florida, and even if they were, they wouldn’t drop in out of the blue. They’d call or text and let me know they were on their way in case I wasn’t around or, far more likely these days, that I didn’t want to see them. Both Mom and Dad had offered to rent a house in the area for a few months while I got back on my feet—so to speak—but I’d firmly rebuked that idea, and my brothers had their own lives to lead. “If it’s Scarlett Rose again, tell her I’m out.”




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