19. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Tatum

Devon is terrible at hiding her feelings, and it’s why it’s so easy to rile her up. It’s why I know I’m in a good place with her; that she’s almost where I need her. She’s not fully there yet, it won’t work that fast, but I’m slowly sneaking my way through her cracks. I just need to take things slow.

I toss the floats into the pool. There are two donut tubes and a lounger. I’ve had these—and more—left in a storage room in the basement in case I ever were to have a party up here. The staff at the desk were more than happy to retrieve, inflate, and bring them up for me.

I get into the pool as Devon swims for the lounge float—I knew she’d go for that one. Her palms are flat on it and she’s ready to boost herself up, so I put my hands on her hips and help her up just as she jumps. She gasps, lands on the float face first, then flies over, causing a big splash which makes me laugh.

She breaks through the surface on the opposite side of the float, running her hands over her face and staring at me in abject horror .

“Sorry, I should have warned you first,” I say, smirking.

She doesn’t say a word, just stares at me like I offended her.

“Try again?” I ask.

She blinks and I expect her to come to me so I can help her up, but she doesn’t. She stays where she is, still as a statue, until she finally snaps out of it moments later.

“I can do it myself, thanks,” she says, forcing kindness into her words.

Okay, I messed that one up. Guess I should do more talking before I do anything physical, even if it is something innocent, like helping her onto a float. Live and learn, I guess. I’m not used to girls not wanting me to touch them. Usually that’s all they want from me.

I shrug and go to the edge of the pool. I stretch over the side to reach the table where my wine glass is. It’s warm now, but it’s alcohol, so I’ll drink it.

I finish the glass and fill it up, replacing the bottle beneath the table in the shade. When I hop back into the water, I find Devon staring at me. When our eyes meet, she jerks away as if not wanting to be caught.

Too late.

Her staring is a good thing, so I don’t call her out on it. I can’t do anything that’ll make her pull away from me. I need to keep her comfortable. I need her to trust me. The quicker she does, the quicker she’ll let me in, the quicker I can destroy her.

After the float debacle, she’ll appreciate some space, so I go to the stairs and sit where the water is up to my stomach. She’s lying comfortably on the float, hands by her sides, eyes closed. The sun, though not too hot, beats down on her, causing her skin to glow.

Devon has always been gorgeous. She’s full in all the right places—lips, tits, ass. She does nothing to stay in such perfect shape, unless you count all the junk food she consumes and naps she takes.

Her nails and toes are painted lilac purple, which is suitable for her personality. She doesn’t have any tattoos, but she has some beauty marks in interesting places that I’ve unfortunately memorized. I’ll never forget the first time I noticed the one on the inside of her left thigh. We were twelve and innocently swimming in the high school pool for a field trip. It was the first time I got a boner in public.

Her hair, though dark now from being wet, is honey colored and somehow always looks just right, even though she doesn’t spend much time on it. Devon is beautiful, she knows it, but she doesn’t throw it in anyone’s face. She doesn’t care how she looks. In fact, she looks like a bum half the time wearing sweatpants and t-shirts, or leggings and sports bras. I think it’s why I was speechless when I saw her in that lingerie on stage. I never would have thought she’d wear something like that, let alone have the privilege of seeing her in it.

My dick wakes up again, so I pull my gaze from her and focus on my wine. The last thing I need to do is scare her away by being a pervert.

I lean back in my chair, my eyes finding their way to her again. She’s floating aimlessly, perfectly content, while I’m going fucking mad.

How dare she lie about being a virgin ?

Wouldn’t the man who bought her be pissed he spent so much money? I would be. If I’d bought a girl at the auction because she was a virgin, only to find out she wasn’t, I’d demand my money back. So how does she get away with something like that? Obviously the club wouldn’t check. She must have signed something stating she wasn’t lying… maybe she’s only had sex the one time? Still, that means she’s no longer a virgin. You can’t pretend things didn’t happen and then move on with life. That’s not how it works. But Devon seems to think that’s the only way to get by in life. Ignore all the bad shit that happens and keep moving forward. Her mom dying. Us . Nothing seems to get Devon down, and I’m happy to test how strong her will really is.

My phone shuffles through all sorts of music—songs I’ve downloaded because I like them and songs the app thinks I’ll like. Most of them aren’t terrible. I finished the first bottle of wine and went in to grab a second. I’d asked Devon if she wanted more but she declined with a shake of her head. She hasn’t said a word to me since telling me she could get on the float herself.

I watch her for far too long. I go from staring to gawking to pulling away because I’m pissed at how much time has passed with me watching her. The more wine I drink, the harder it is to keep my eyes off her and it grates on my nerves. But I don’t stop drinking because it settles something inside me .

I can’t imagine things with her and I going badly today. As long as I keep this momentum of not pissing her off, I’m good. Though she looks calm, she’s probably wondering why I’m being so nice. Why I’m not going at her. Why I’m just letting her be. And that’s all I need. Because if she’s wondering all those things, and I keep cementing in the fact that they will stay that way, I’ll win her trust in no time. I don’t need to be in her face to prove I’ve changed. Distance will work just as well.

At dinner, I’ll ask her to talk. With how things are between us now, she should agree, and I can water the seed I’ve already planted in her pretty little head.

She keeps asking why I bought her. I’ll tell her. Things could go south then, but hopefully I’ve buttered her up enough that it’ll be easier to wrangle her back in. Knowing her, I don’t think she’ll get angry at me when I tell her. It’s likely she just won’t believe me. That’s okay, because I’m just going to keep trying. It has to be baby steps with Devon when it comes to this. The last five years for us haven’t been easy, I’ve made sure of it. I’ve made this mess myself, which sucks, but the good thing is I know how to turn it around. I broke it, I can fix it.

The universe is on my side when a slow song comes on. It doesn’t fit with anything on my playlist, but that’s what happens when you let these apps go through their own algorithm. They throw in random stuff, either by mistake or wondering if it’ll stick and broaden what you listen to. Instead of changing it, I take the opportunity.

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

Putting my wineglass down, I wade through the water to where Devon is floating. She opens her eyes before I reach her, her brow raising. Her fingers tighten around the float as if she thinks I’m going to flip her over. That would be funny, and it would certainly annoy her, but it isn’t my intention. Annoying her is the last thing I want to do this weekend.

I hold out my hand.

“Dance with me.”

She huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “What?”

I smile. “You heard me. Dance with me, Devon.”

“We’re in a pool, Tatum,” she says flippantly.

“I wouldn’t care if we were in a volcano. Dance with me .”

She blinks a few times, her lips parting before she pulls the bottom one between her teeth. She carefully moves her legs over the side and slips into the water, taking my hand. I haven’t a clue what made her make up her mind so easily but thank fuck she did.

The water is up to our waists here. I pull her closer to me. Her skin is scorching from being in the sun. She’ll likely have a nice tan. Linking our fingers, I put my other hand on her lower back. She puts hers on my upper arm hesitantly. She’s stiff, clearly unsure, but I have no problem taking the lead. I move her, dancing as well as we can in the water. Can’t say I’ve ever done this before, and I’m sure I’ll laugh at how ridiculous I’m being later, just to get revenge on this girl, but that’s okay. It’ll all be worth it in the end. It has to be. Because this is all I have left.