Live For Me (Blurred Lines #2)(21)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“I’m not a great guy, so don’t give me credit for being one.”

I just stood there for a second then I sat down on a love seat that had a zebra-striped fabric. Definitely not Devin’s style. “What have you done that is so awful? You tell me I can’t feel sorry for myself, well, guess what? Neither can you.”

He gave a snort. “The minute I laid eyes on you I knew you were going to be a challenge.”

It felt like a compliment, despite the words themselves. I pressed. “So what went wrong in your marriage? Besides the cheating, was it something else? You must have been in love at some point.”

He fiddled with the keyboard in front of him, hitting a random key. “You want to hear about my marriage? Okay. Fine. When I met Kadence I was twenty-three and still totally naïve. I met her out one night in the Village and I thought she was so mature, so sexy. She knew everyone in the club and she spent money like a hundred bucks was a penny. People followed her around, including me. When she showed interest in me, I was triumphant. I won, right? At first I thought she was crazy fun, and crazy in bed. Then I realized she was just crazy. She’d lied to me about her age, telling me she was twenty six when she was really thirty two. I didn’t care about the age difference, but it pissed me off that she’d lied. I found out by accident and I felt like an idiot. I broke up with her. But by then she was pregnant.”

That wasn’t what I was expecting. I cleared my throat. “Oh. Wow.”

“So I married her. I married her even knowing I wasn’t in love with her. Knowing that part of her made my skin crawl. How’s that for romantic?”

It wasn’t romantic, but it was admirable. “I think that actually disproves your theory that you’re not nice. You married her because of your child and I admire that.”

He made a face. “Don’t. Don’t ascribe admiration to me. I did it because I knew she was f**king crazy and I didn’t want to condemn a child to living with her solo. I married her to be a shield. I didn’t want her and I didn’t really want a kid.”

“Again, more reason to admire you for doing the right thing.” I firmly believed that. “You could have walked away. Most men would have. My father did.” It said a lot to me about his character that he’d done what he hadn’t wanted to solely because he’d wanted to protect his child. “What happened to the pregnancy?” I didn’t think he had a four year old. I’d seen no evidence of that online and he’d never once mentioned a child.

“She miscarried.”

“I’m sorry.”

But Devin shook his head slowly, leaning back in his chair. “I wasn’t. Now tell me I’m a nice guy. Tell me you still admire me. I’m a f**king selfish bastard.”

“A selfish bastard would have dumped her immediately upon losing the baby. Or had a string of affairs while tolerating his marriage.” I leaned forward, wanting closer to him. “You’re right, you know. Your bark is worse than your bite.”

He gave me a small smile. “You’re very good at throwing my own words back at me. I need to be more careful with what I say.”

“I’m not meaning to throw anything at you.” Myself included. The more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to though. My attraction was growing beyond just the physical. I felt drawn to Devin. I liked him. He reached inside me without even trying.

“I know.” He studied me. “When I look at you, I don’t see eighteen. I know that you’re young, but you don’t look young.”

“That’s the opposite of what everyone has ever told me. I think I look like a twelve-year-old boy.” It was true. No ass, no boobs, short. I knew my expression must be incredulous because his words were ridiculous.

But he was insistent. “That’s insane. Nothing about you is masculine. And you don’t look young because you don’t move like a kid, all random action and spastic energy.”

The studio was windowless, with padded walls for soundproofing, and it felt cozy, intimate. It was dark, the only light the one from his computer monitor. “Well, that’s true. No more has ever called me spastic.”

“Kids have this innocence about them, a sense of wonder and pure silliness, and for most teens that extends right through the first year or two of college. You don’t have any of that.”

I swallowed hard. “Life hasn’t really been silly for me.”

“No, I suppose not. You stare at the world like you’ve figured it out and found it all very lacking.”

Maybe there was truth to that. I didn’t really know. I did know that I wasn’t angry. I also knew that I might display a tough outer shell, but inside I was soft and tender. “I’m not totally cynical.”

“No, I didn’t mean that. Just… wise. You’re like my little owl.”

I wasn’t sure that was flattering or not. But I focused on his use of the word “my.”

“Who?” I said, completely deadpan.

For a split second he didn’t get it. Then he burst out laughing. “Good one.”

I smiled back at him.

But then he got serious again, so quickly I wondered what thought had popped into his head. “What?”

“Part of me wishes you were immature, annoying.”

“Why?”

“You know why. Don’t pretend not to understand.”

I knew what I wanted it to be. I said nothing.

“But you’re not.”

“I hope I’m not annoying.”

His knee nudged mine. “Nope. Not even close. Are we friends, Tiffany?”

Trick question or not, I wanted to answer honestly. “I hope so. I want to be friends.”

He rubbed his jaw. “I want a lot of things. But sometimes we can’t have them.”

“So we can’t be friends?” It was like he enjoyed tormenting me. Dangling closeness in front of me, then taking it away.

“I think that it’s impossible for us not to be.” He looked away from me and at his computer screen. “Yes, I would like dinner.”

It must be nice to be able to conveniently dismiss people. To be in control of jumping that fence from employer to friend and back again.

“I’m off duty for the day. You can come and help me though if you’d like.”

He turned slowly back to me, clearly caught off guard. “You have balls bigger than some forty-year-old men, I’ll give you that.”