Page 55 of Exposing Colorado

Huck’s already pulling Taylor into a ridiculous twirl, Christian and Arya are making out under a waterfall of fairy lights, and Devon’s pretending not to watch them from across the crowd.

But, like always, my eyes settle on her.

My wife.

Salem dances alone, lit up by the glow of lanterns and the pulsing beat surrounding us. She’s swaying like the music is in her soul, long hair loose and flowing in the gentle breeze. The space around her is wide enough for others to step in, but no one else dares to fill it.

Not even me.

Especially not me.

There's currently a war going on inside my head. Seeing her so carefree should make me happy, but it doesn't. All I feel is misery. Part of me just wants this tour to end so I can crawl back to my dad-who-isn’t-my-dad and beg for my job back. Return to my monotonous existence of crunching numbers and eating whole pizzas by myself until I waste away to nothing.

I’m halfway through nursing my third beer when Devon quietly sidles up to me. His arms are crossed over his tank top, inked arms on display as he watches Christian lower Arya into a dip.

“You know,” he says slowly, his jaw flexing at the corners, “I get tired of being everyone's backup plan sometimes.” Before I can ask what that means, he nudges my arm roughly, spilling my beer. “Dance with me.”

I turn slowly and blink at him. “What?”

He doesn’t even glance my way. “Everyone else is partnered up. Salem’s clearly doing her ‘don't need no man’ shit, and I’m not in the mood to third wheel for the hundredth time. So.” He finally swings his hard gaze to mine with a shrug. “Dance with me.”

“We’re not—” I choke, my heart stuttering. “You’re my brother.”

The second those words are out, they sound wrong. So wrong and ridiculous and not even close to the truth.

“Adopted,” Dev mutters, looking away, but not before I catch the pain flash across his amber eyes. “Forget it.”

He starts to leave, and fuck, my chest squeezes at the look on his face because he looks like me. Not physically, obviously, but emotionally.

Drained. Hurting. Lonely.

Before I can stop myself, I snatch his arm to halt him in his tracks. “Wait.”

He looks down at my hand, then back at me, his expression smoothing out as he gives me a chance to speak.

“Just a normal dance, right? No… weird stuff?”

Dev's lips twitch into a smirk and he raises two fingers in the air. “Scout's honor. Just a boring, run-of-the-mill church dance with at least nine inches between us.” I scowl, moving to yank my hand away, but he traps it in place. “And no dick jokes. Got it.”

Rolling my eyes, I let him tug me through the crowd toward the middle of the dance floor. “You can't give a scout's honor unless you’re actually a scout.”

“Who says I’m not?” Spinning around, his lips relax into an easy grin.

“Grandma and Grandpa put you in scouts?”

Devon shrugs, pulling me closer as he gazes around the square. “They put me in a lot of things. Hard to keep track.”

Now that sounds like bullshit, but I let it go because this is awkward as hell.

We were never really close, him and I. All I remember growing up is that he never came around much. Neither did my grandparents, for that matter. Now I understand why. The first time Dev and I actually spent significant time together was my sophomore year of high school when he visited for spring break. He'd swooped in, then left again just as fast. The guy's a complete mystery.

Well… Other than the fact that I⁠—

No. I cut that image off at the knees, and we both fall silent as we start to dance. I zero in on a spot above Devon’s left shoulder, letting the memory from all those years ago take over my racing thoughts.

“You’re cheating,” Huck grumbles, shaking thick, blond curls off his brow before jabbing me with his controller.

“You just suck at hiding,” I shoot back, grinning wide.