17. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Tatum

Keeping my eyes off Devon is more difficult than I expected. I’ve seen her in a bathing suit plenty of times in our lives, but not recently. Not since her body got so goddamn curvy… What was I thinking buying her a bikini? Especially when I had to guess her size—which I think I guessed too small. Her tits are spilling out.

And to make matters worse, because why would she make things easy for me?, she’s moaning around each bite of pizza, which has me rock hard in my pants. I so badly want to excuse myself to get a drink so the damn thing will deflate, but if I get up, she’s going to notice the tent in my pants when I walk by her.

“God, I missed this.”

For a second, I think she means us. Then I realize there’s no way she’d think that because she hates me.

“It’s a benefit of having a place here,” I say when I catch on that she’s talking about the pizza and not our relationship—or lack thereof .

“I’ll say.”

She reaches for her third slice, and I smile at how carefree she is.

Devon has never worried about what people think of her. She’s always loved food and isn’t afraid to say it—and she certainly isn’t afraid to eat as much as she wants. Her confidence is both irritating and admirable.

I pull my attention from her and focus on the pizza in my hand. I need to stay on guard. Stop thinking things between us will really change. We haven’t even been together a full day yet and already she’s pulling me under her spell—just like she did last time.

I refuse to fall for her tricks again. It’s easy to let my guard down around her. She sounds genuine all the time. She’s always so nice. Devon is a goddamn temptress of the worst kind. She’s a venomous snake that’ll bite you when you least expect it. Sometimes you don’t even feel the bite until it’s too late. Until the venom is seeping through your veins, slowly killing you.

Devon can’t be trusted, no matter how sweet and innocent she looks or acts. I should tattoo this on my forehead so I don’t forget. It’s likely I will because she’s just that good. Being away from her helps; we never spend so much time together. This weekend is going to be a true test of my will. Maybe even more torture for me than it is for her.

I expect her to dig at me about why I bought her since we aren’t fighting, but she doesn’t. She makes a comment here and there about the food or Chicago and I respond in kind. When she’s done eating, she lounges back, closing her eyes with a smile on her face and her hand on her stomach .

Good sign. What I’m doing is working. She’s content. Comfortable. Happy.

“Does this mean you’ll stop fighting me now?” I ask.

She squints an eye open to look at me. “Not entirely, but you’re safe for a little while.”

“I’ll take it,” I say as I close the pizza box.

Her eye falls shut. I take the opportunity to get to my feet and grab the pizza box.

“I’m going to put this inside. Do you need anything?”

“Wine would be nice,” she says, eyes still closed and smiling at the sky.

Wine is probably a bad idea. But fuck it.

I put the pizza in the fridge, grab two glasses and a bottle of wine from the wine fridge. My phone rings in my pocket, so I put down the wine and glasses to check who it is. When I see Dane’s name, I consider ignoring it, but feel bad since I’m already lying to him.

What if he needs something?

“What’s up?” I answer.

“Just checking in,” he says. “Your dick fall off yet?”

I chuckle. “Nah, not yet.”

“I’m so mad I missed it.”

“It’s your own fault,” I say, leaning against the counter.

“Yeah, I know, I know. Would’ve been fun being balls deep in a pussy this weekend.”

Fun? Yeah, it would have been. I’d say this weekend is turning out to be more stressful than anything. Digging myself deeper into lies. Forcing myself to like someone I hate. Doing all kinds of shit I can’t stand doing .

“So, who are these chicks? Anyone I know?” he asks.

“No one you know,” I say.

“You should send me some pics.”

“I don’t know…”

“Oh, come on, Tate. Like they’d care. They were up for auction. You think they’re going to care about a few photos for your friend?”

The more I talk to him, the more I feel bad about lying to him and hurting his sister, which then makes me wonder if I should even be doing this. I’m pissed at Devon for what she did to me, but that has nothing to do with Dane. This could hurt him too—if he finds out.

I’d already decided it was worth it, but now that I’m talking to him, I’m not so sure.

Fuck having a conscience.

“Hey, so what would you say if I told you that I knew one of these girls from before?”

I have no idea why those words fall out of my mouth. Maybe I’m looking for reassurance that what I’m doing isn’t as bad as my head is telling me it is. Maybe if I give a vague idea of what I’m doing, he’ll laugh about it with me and then I won’t feel bad.

“What? How?”

“One of the girls is someone I know from years ago. She fucked me over, so I bought her to piss her off.”

Dane laughs. “You would do that. Expensive?”

“Three and a half mil,” I say, crossing my arm over my chest and tucking my hand under my other arm .

He whistles. “Damn, Tatum. That’s a serious grudge. What did she do? I don’t know her?”

“It was when I was out of town with my father, signing the papers for the company. She forgot to tell me she had a boyfriend.”

More lies.

Just keep telling more lies, Tatum.

Dig yourself deeper.

“Since when do you care about that?” he asks.

I run a hand through my hair, catching my reflection in the microwave door. I’m such a piece of shit.

“Since I caught feelings for her.”

“You never told me you had feelings for anyone. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Because she’s your sister and I knew you’d freak out.

“Wasn’t important, and I got over it.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re over it if you’re still mad. You sure this is a good idea?”

Well, if I thought I was getting reassurance from Dane, I was wrong. I should have known he would argue with me about this. Tell me what I’m doing is wrong.

But maybe—no. It doesn’t matter what he thinks. This has to happen. I know Devon well enough to know she won’t tell Dane shit about this. She’ll suffer in silence, the same way I did. Dane never has to know about any of this.

Fuck having a conscience. Devon is making me soft. Less than a day and her niceness is rubbing off on me. Fuck all of this bullshit .

“Just thought it would be fun is all. Something to pass the time.”

“So how are you going to get back at her?”

“No entirely sure yet.”

“Well, whatever you do, make sure it’s worth it and you don’t make things worse.”

Devon deserves all this pain. She deserves so much more than what she did to me. This isn’t going to make things worse, it’s going to make things better. I’ve been waiting for this opportunity to come for five years.

After I end the call, I head back outside. Devon hasn’t moved. I take my seat, grateful my dick is behaving, and pour us each a glass of merlot.

“How is it you remember all my favorites?” She takes the glass of wine I offer her as I glance at the bottle, not having realized this was her favorite. I just grabbed one.

But when opportunity strikes, you don’t let it get away from you.

I shrug. “Must be a subconscious thing.”

“Meaning?” she pushes, bringing the glass to her lips.

I take a sip, holding her gaze.

“Meaning… I still remember everything about you.”

“Why is that, Tatum?” she asks, curiosity in her voice. There is no accusation. Nothing that makes it seem like she’s on to me.

I smile at her, noting how easy it is to do. I take a moment to look at her. It’s been so long since I’ve just… admired her.

People say her and Dane look nothing alike, but it’s not true. I see the similarities between them, not only in the way they look, but the way they act .

“Tatum?”

“Hm?” I say, blinking a few times and taking a mouthful of wine. Her glass is nearly empty.

“Why do you remember everything about me?”

Because I fell in love with you the very first day I met you.

I force a smile, a pit forming in my chest. “How could I not? I spend more time with you and Dane than my own family.”

Her smile is sad, and she nods once, finishing her glass. She brings her attention to the skyline and silence falls over us for a short time.

“Have you ever watched the sunrise from up here?” Devon asks with a soft smile.

“No,” I answer, filling both our glasses.

“If I lived here, I’d be out here every morning to watch it.”

“You hate waking up early.”

“When there’s nothing to do, there’s no point in getting up, but I’d get up for the right thing.”

“And watching the sunrise is the right thing?” I question, raising my brow as I cap the wine.

She gives me a playful shove, then grabs her glass.

“You can’t say it like that if you’ve never seen it.”

“I’ve seen plenty of sunrises, Devon. The sky turns pink and orange. Happens every single day. There’s nothing special about it.”

“You’re wrong,” she whispers against her glass, her eyes focused ahead. “You’re so wrong.”