Page 68 of Forgiving Utah

Like… together. In the same bed.

Devon clocks my hesitation immediately. “Right,” he huffs, all humor fading from his face. “Back to the couch for me, then?”

Swallowing hard, I ball up the dirty shirt and toss it into my hamper before climbing off the bed. “I need to shower now. Wasn't planning on getting an asscrack full of cum tonight.”

When I drop my jock and turn toward the dresser, Dev scoffs.

“Wow. Your pillow talk is outstanding, hot shot. No wonder Arya left.”

“Fuck you!” Slamming a drawer shut, I spin around to toss a pair of clean undies at his face. “I didn't say you couldn't sleep here, asshole. I just didn't… not say it.”

His jaw goes slack as he watches me march naked toward the door. It's on the tip of my tongue to tell him to follow, but that's… weird. Right? I mean, I've showered with men before. At least, with Arya, I have. Easy cleanup after double penetration and all that. But never with a guy exclusively.

Deciding it'd be weird, despite the fact that his cum is literally drying on my ass right now, I close myself in the bathroom alone and hastily scrub up with his words running through my brain.

“No wonder Arya left.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean? She left because she cheated on me. Kind of. Technically. I mean, I told her I didn't want us messing around with Dev anymore and she did it anyway. So he's the problem, right? Not me?

Once finished, I grab a blanket from the back of the couch and enter my room again to find Dev sprawled across my bed in my underwear, scrolling through his phone.

“Here,” I mutter, throwing the blanket over his body before crawling in beside him. “Don't fucking hog it.”

“No promises,” he chuckles, making himself comfortable. It's then that I realize I only have one pillow on this full-sized mattress. Devon notices, too, but he simply smirks when he turns his head to look at me. “You drool, hot shot? Or snore?”

“Worse, I punch. So give me space, fucker.”

Humming, the asshole only snuggles closer. “I think I like ‘pastelito’ better.”

How about “baby?” I think, remembering the word falling off his lips before he came. Like hell I'll be caught saying that shit out loud, though.

Instead, I huff and turn to my other side, not even surprised when he spoons me from behind. Guy's a total cuddler.

But I can’t say I hate it, honestly. His warm body envelops me, and it's actually pretty cozy. I used to cuddle Arya like this, too. We snuggled constantly, all the time. We were good together.

So what the fuck did he mean when he said “no wonder she left?” Why is it bothering me so damn much?

“Night, hot shot,” he mumbles into my wet hair, his breath tickling my skin.

By the time I answer, he's already asleep, quiet snores softly filling the room, while I lie there and question everything about myself.

“Night, Dev.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Devon

Being bored is worse than being fucked up.

At least when I’m fucked up, there’s nothing in my head but quiet numbness filling the space between my ears. Boredom leaves me alone with my own thoughts.

Tossing the remote aside, I scrub a hand over my face with a sigh. Nothing on TV catches my attention anymore. I already spent way too long on my phone watching funny cat videos earlier, and my thumb aches from scrolling. Christian left for California with Logan this morning—after a frosty goodbye despite waking up in bed together—and the apartment is empty. Nothing to do, no one to see.

This is usually the part where I'd throw my shoes on and disappear. Get lost somewhere, preferably high or drunk with a warm body, chasing away all the roiling thoughts inside my head. I can't do that anymore, though, not on probation and a rapidly approaching court date.

So instead, I pace. Clean up the apartment. Gather Christian’s dirty laundry and search for somewhere to wash them. Just as I'm looking up an address for a laundromat, a text flashes across my screen.

Hey, it's Owen. You busy? I'm bored.