Page 33 of Puck Me, Valentine
I go to classes. I feed the animals. I sit in my room and replay every single word Devlin said that night, turning them over in my mind like puzzle pieces that refuse to fit together.
You’re mine. From start to finish.
I haven’t slept for weeks.
Sasha knows how I feel.
Part of me is furious that I’m unwittingly carrying out Devlin’s will—staying put, being “good,” following his invisible rules. But I lack the strength to do anything else. The emotional whiplash has left me wrung out, exhausted.
Devlin shows up occasionally. I’ll catch glimpses of him across campus, or he’ll appear outside the rescue center whenI’m leaving. He never approaches, just watches. Making sure I’m safe, I suppose. Keeping tabs on me.
I don’t know how to feel about it.
My head is a complete mess, but my heart… God, my heart is doing backflips every time I think about the things he said. All those hints he’s dropped over the past week. Dozens of them, really, if I’m being honest with myself.
But they’re just hints.
I need to stop having my head in the clouds and focus on his actions, not vague implications. And Devlin’s actions paint a very specific picture: he wants me in private but ignores me in public.
Outside the locker room after the match, he looked right through me. At the bar with everyone else, he barely acknowledged my existence. It’s gnawing at me, eating away at my insides.
Maybe he doesn’t want to be seen with me as his… whatever I am. Maybe he’s ashamed.
Then again, I haven’t exactly come to terms with my status as a gay guy becoming public knowledge either. The thought makes my stomach churn with anxiety. The only freedom I feel is that I finally came out to Sasha, and he was amazing about it.
But that doesn’t solve the Devlin problem.
Early the next week, I at least get good news: the rescue room isn’t being moved. The structural concerns turned out to be minor, easily fixable. One less thing to worry about.
I’m racing across the campus courtyard at full speed, my backpack bouncing against my spine, when I turn into the archway leading to the library and nearly trip over my own feet.
At least I didn’t break my nose, I think, shaking my hair out of my eyes.
A few steps later, someone grabs my arm, and suddenly I’m being dragged sideways.
Devlin.
He pulls me into an empty classroom before I can even process what’s happening, shutting the door behind us with a decisive click.
“Have you gone mad, Bower?”
“Watch your step,” he grumbles, his voice tight with irritation. “Try looking where you’re going for once. At least you didn’t break your nose.”
I blink.Did he seriously just say that?
“And how’s the investigation into the ‘scary’ Cupids going, anyway?” I bite out. “I remember you threatening to burn the world down over a few smutty cards. Where’s all that Big Bad energy now?”
I’m angry about the whole situation, but mostly I’m angry that my heart is trying to escape my chest just from being near him.
“Actually, it’s going great. I’ll find out who it was soon.”
“You will?” I ask, surprised.
We stare at each other in silence for a moment, and I swear he’s moving closer.
“Yes.”
“Is it Monica, by any chance?” Worry suddenly floods through me. “Because if you’re planning to hurt her—”
