Page 73 of LOT 62

“I do trust you,” I said, meaning it. I had a right to worry about him, though. “Why’d you do it?”

“Because I was scared,” he said. “Because I missed you. Because it all got so heavy and I didn’t know how to carry it anymore. Because I was so fucking terrified that I’d never be able to touch you again, and because I was weak. I picked the wrong coping mechanism. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Lean on me now.”

Devon nodded. “You can kick my ass for it later. Kind of eager to see how weak you are now that you’ve leaned down.” He smirked. “But can we just… touch right now?”

I licked my lips and pulled him against my chest. “I’m proud of you, and I do trust you, but I’m definitely kicking your ass later. No matter how much bulk I lost, I can still take you.”

“I know,” he laughed. “Come on. I’m sick of everyone watching us.”

Walking inside so the peeping Toms couldn’t spy on us, I took in the place that had been my home for most of my life. It was mostly tidy, but there were empty wine bottles on the counter, dirty dishes in the sink, and half-empty packs of smokes littered around the place, reminding me that life carried on here while mine paused.

The adrenaline of the trial wore off, and fatigue set in. Months’ worth. As much as I wanted to be intimate with Devon, it didn’t feel like the right time. The dark circles under his eyes told me he was as tired as me, and his awkwardness made me hide a grin. Yeah, we were back to square one. Our relationship started with a bang, fuelled by anger and tension, but this time, we were choked up in the softness, unsure how to get back to those people when we were different now. We’d changed. We didn’t know how to be together sexually with this new dynamic, and it turned us both into shy idiots.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, kicking the carpet.

Starving and eager for a real meal. “I’m just tired.” I watched him shuffle.

He nodded and grabbed my wrist, bringing me to my bedroom. Slowly, Devon loosened my tie and undid the buttons of my dress shirt, trying to hide his shock at how different my body looked. I’d lost some weight, and I’d lost a lot of muscle mass. He pulled the belt from the loops and tossed it on the floor, leaving my shirt open. While he undressed, I stepped out of my pants and shoes, toed off my socks, and watched him silently.

I’d tried so hard to recall a perfect image of his body while I was on the inside, but I’d never done it justice. He’d lost some weight, too, but he was fucking beautiful. Harshly beautiful. To see him in his boxers gave me pause.

“Fuck, Devon, you’re…” I swallowed, not sure what word to use. Just perfect. Just mine.

A flash of desire ignited in his eyes, but it wasn’t heated enough to act on. His tan had paled and his shitty skull tattoo stood out more because of it. I vowed to keep him at the beach for as long as I could to darken his skin, sun-bleach his hair, and put more warmth back into him.

We fell into our old positions, my arm around him, his head in the crook of my shoulder, and our legs all jumbled together, the closest thing to cuddling we’d ever had. Bliss. His skin warmed mine, his calloused hands scratched at my abs, his overgrown hair tickled my chin, and his stubble pricked against my shoulder. I loved it.

“I missed you,” I told him, trying not to cry. The reality of being here, settled in the bed our relationship had started in, with him in my arms and safety all around us, overwhelmed me. All I’d wished for those four months was this. This moment. I’d finally gotten it, and it felt so good it hurt.

I did cry. I tried not to, but the tears came and they didn’t stop. My chest heaved, relief spilled over into happiness and gratitude, and Devon held me through it all, crying with me. He didn’t say anything and neither did I, because there wasn’t anything to say. It was about feeling, not speaking.

When the emotions got to be too much, I turned to face him and tilted his chin up. Kissing him with salty tears mixing on our tongues, our chests heaving together, and our bodies meshing like they knew exactly what to do felt too good to be true. Devon’s hands pulled me closer and mine ended up in his hair, holding him against me to deepen our kiss. My dick didn’t get hard and neither did his, but our heartbeats synced and our tears dried. We lay there in my tiny ass bed, kissing until we were exhausted, but still not stopping.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered, lips on mine before pulling back.

I hated being cheesy, but I did it anyway. “I can’t close my eyes.”

He couldn’t even help his satisfied smile. “You’ll be sick of looking at me soon. I’m all you have now,” he laughed.

I watched him, completely in love.

“We have no home, no money, no trucks, no dirt bikes, and literally nothing to our names. You don’t even have a job, Madd. I’m all you’ve got. Sorry about your luck.” He smirked.

I smiled, letting my eyes close. Yeah, we had a lot of reality to catch up with and face, but that shit could wait until tomorrow. For today, Devon was the only thing I needed.

“I love you.”

Devon kissed my cheek and touched my eyes to force them closed again. “I love you. Now sleep, asshole.”

I turned onto my back, grabbed his hand between our bodies, and finally slept.

33

-Maddox-

Isleptforhours,and I swear to fuck I hadn’t rested like that in forever. The first thing I did when I woke up was kiss Devon’s hair, then I had a shower. Devon, that sensitive, cute fucker, sat on the toilet lid and talked my ear off the whole time I washed the prison off my skin. He lent me a pair of mostly clean boxers, because apparently I didn’t own any anymore, and then we laid in bed to… talk.