Beautiful Devil

Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

Once we’re inside her room, Brogan turns on a lamp beside her bed and I immediately begin searching Avery’s half of the room for the back pack I had her put in here earlier today. Avery may be Brogan’s best friend, but her and I were in cahoots to ensure that Brogan is happy and it looks like we pulled this off perfectly.

I can feel her eyes following me as I peer under Avery’s bed and around the clothes scattered on her floor. “What are you doing?”

Shooting a look over my shoulder, I see her standing with her hands on her hips. “You do realize you’re snooping around my room right in front of me?”

“Uh huh,” I mutter as I stand up, still searching.

When I don't find it on Avery’s side of the room, I move to Brogan’s side, hoping she doesn't shove her foot up my ass while I’m scanning under her bed.

My hand slaps against an open notebook, so I slide it toward me. While it’s not what I was looking for, it’s caught my eye. On one of the pages are drawings of dresses with intricate designs and cuts. The other page holds sketches of the backside of each article of clothing.

“Hey!” Brogan snaps as she flips the notebook closed. “That’s personal! Hayes, why did we leave the bar just to come back to my room so you could search it in front of me? This is weird.”

I point to the book that’s now in her hand. “Did you draw those?”

“No,” she blurts out, pulling the book close to her chest. “I mean, yes. But they’re not for you to look at. Or anyone really.”

“I didn’t realize you could draw so well.”

“I uh.” She swallows thickly, sighing a little. “I always liked fashion design as a kid and once I got my first sketchbook, I wasn’t able to stop.”

I’ve told Brogan a little bit about my future goals, but she’s never once mentioned hers. Maybe that’s because I haven’t really asked. “Is that your major then? Fashion design?”

“Actually, no.” She glances down at the book before shaking her head. “My major is fashion merchandising.”

“Hmm. I don’t know what that is but I assume it means you still design clothes, right?” I know nothing about the fashion industry at all. I once tried to watch an episode of Project Runway with a girl because no one could find the remote and I was too hungover to care, but after they put something that looked like a whole ass peacock on a chick's head, I had to turn that shit off, it got too weird.

“It means I will help the people who design the clothes, sell the clothes.”

My expression twists in confusion, just as my brain does. “But why? Those are amazing, Legs.” They’re way better than the peacock thing I saw, that’s for sure. “You should be the one designing them. Then let someone else sell them for you .”

She blushes, a subtle smile coming to her face as she opens up the book and flips through a few pages with no peacocks in sight. I step up next to her, looking through the different textures she has blended together and the way some of the fabrics she brought to life cling to her models.

She has everything ranging from what a Victoria Secret model would wear to what I imagine a mom would wear. She’s clearly talented, being able to draw this kind of range, but not only that, I swear I can even feel some of the textures she added in.

“You really think they’re good?” Her eyes rise to mine and I am damn near tempted to grab her face and tilt her head to look at the paper just to make sure we are seeing the same thing.

“Hell yes, they’re good. It’s like some of them have come to life on the page.”

Her lips twitch with a smile. “Thanks. I’ve always loved sketching out different clothing designs. Some are a little off the wall, but each one is special to me.”

I may be stuck on this peacock thing, but none of her designs are anywhere near that “off the wall.”

“As they should be. Now tell me this, if you love creating the designs, why the hell are you pursuing a merchandiser degree? Or whatever it’s called.”

“Honestly...” She shrugs. “I don’t really know. I think it just comes down to fear of rejection.”

Placing my hands on her shoulders, I make her face me. “Legs, Legs. Legs. Do you think every division one hockey player gets drafted into the NHL?”

“No,” she gasps. “Of course not.”

“Do you think I’m going to get drafted into the NHL?” I look at her seriously, not asking for a compliment here. I know I play well, but getting drafted isn’t just about skill, there is a little luck involved too. I don’t want her to tell me what my teammates tell me; I want her to be honest.

She grimaces as she lifts a shoulder. “I don’t know, maybe. Maybe not.”

Standing tall, I wink at her. “Do you think that’s going to stop me from trying?”

She grins up at me, that fire of a challenge in her eyes. “You tell me. Is it?”

“Fuck no,” I howl. “Not a chance. I’m giving this shit all I’ve got and then some. If I don’t make it, there’s no way in hell it’ll be due to a lack of trying. Sure, I’ve got a backup plan with a sports communication degree, but I hope I never need it.”

She lets out a breathy laugh, but then her finger falls to trace over a purple jumpsuit design with a belt looped through the waist.

“I hear you and I know what you’re saying, and yes, you’re right. You don’t know the outcome if you don’t try. I get it.” She takes a deep breath, still looking down at the notebook. “But isn’t it scary working so hard for something that requires a level of talent you’re not certain you have?”

Brogan finally lifts her head and I feel like I need to make sure I say the right thing here. Deciding what risks we will take is just part of life, but not taking any risks means we aren’t living.

“Isn’t it scarier to waste that level of talent and never make it because you never tried?”

She exhales heavily as she closes her notebook and slides it on the nightstand. “It’s all just…scary.”

“Life is scary.” I pull her close to me so we are only a few inches apart. “But that doesn’t mean we just stop living because we’re afraid.”

Grinning, she shakes a finger at me. “You need to stop that?”

“Stop what?” I lean down into her space.

“Making me think. It’s too late in the day and I’m too tired.”

Fuck am I tempted to kiss this girl. How is she everything I didn’t realize I needed?

I lift a shoulder. “Just think about it later then. Some things are worth the risk, and in your case, I think the risk is extremely low.”

As I’m turning back around, I spot my black backpack sitting beside the door. “There it is,” I mutter. I wonder how many times I walked right past it.

Snatching it up, I toss it on Brogan’s bed. Once I’ve got it unzipped, I tip it upside down and dump the contents onto her duvet that is somehow no longer stained from the pizza.

“Oh my God, Hayes. What is all this?” She begins rummaging through the various items on her bed.

Her fingers land on a pack of fake spiders with a cotton spun web before setting it down and picking up something else. There are some orange and black LED lights, some skull and ghost cutouts, and a banner that says “Happy Halloween.” Amongst a few other random things I grabbed at the dollar store.

I sit down on her bed, my eyes following her every move as she looks at each item. The way her face lights up with child-like excitement makes me feel like the luckiest man alive for being able to witness it.

“When Avery called last night and asked me to grab a pizza and come over, she mentioned watching a Halloween movie because it’s your favorite holiday. It struck me odd when I arrived and saw absolutely no Halloween decorations in your room.”

I didn’t think too much about it until we were watching the movie and she had this look in her eye like she wished she could bring it to life.

“I know you’ve been feeling sort of down lately and I thought maybe we’d decorate and get your mind off things for a little while.”

She sets the last item down—a package of yellow caution tape—then turns to me with her hands clasped over her heart. “This is seriously the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, Hayes.”

I shrug it off, not wanting too much credit. “It’s no big deal.”

Shaking her head, she moves to stand right in front of me. “It is to me.”

Our eyes lock and time seems to stand still as the air between us grows heavy. Even while all my friends are out partying and having a good time, there is no place I’d rather be and no one I’d rather be with.

Brogan makes me feel settled, like the racing storm inside my head that I am always trying to push down breaks in her presence.

I wasn’t supposed to fall for this girl, but she entered my life and wreaked havoc on my heart, and now, I’m not sure how I can ever let her leave.

By the way her chest is rising and falling rapidly, I’m more certain than ever that she feels it, too.

In an instant, Brogan blinks away and snatches up the fake spiderweb, waving it around with a wide spread grin on her face. “Should we get started?”

I smack my hands to my thighs and leap to my feet. “Let’s do it.”

We start with decorating the door—running caution tape over it and adding a couple paper skeletons. Then we weave the fake spider web in the corner above her bed and stick the little eight-legged plastic spiders all over it.

Just for the hell of it, I stick one in Brogan’s hair.

Twenty minutes later, we’re sticking paper cutouts on her wall and she still hasn’t noticed.

I grab my phone from her bed and snap a pic of her mid-stretch as she tacks a banner on the wall.

Then I duplicate the photo, crop it zoomed in on the spider and send it to her in a text message. Her phone pings from her nightstand and she hurries over to it, leaving the other end of the banner hanging from the wall.

While she’s checking her phone, I finish what she started and evenly position the banner over the window. Just as I push the tack in, I’m hit in the backside with a pillow.

“You think you’re so funny.” She giggles as she tries to get the spider out of her hair.

I crouch down and snatch the pillow up, flinging it back at her. She dodges out of the way, but I'm quick on my feet and already grabbing the other one off her bed. With a swift movement, I raise it above my head and slam it onto her. Still laughing, she tumbles onto her side, shielding her face as I gently pummel her with the pillow.

“I surrender,” she squeals.

Just as I toss the pillow down, she grabs it and begins beating my legs with it.

“So much for surrendering.” I drop to my knees and snare her wrists in each of my hands, forcing her to drop it. Breathlessly, I stare down at her. “Are you done now?”

Blowing strands of hair away from her mouth, she nods.

“You sure?” I lean in, assessing her crazy eyes to see if she might try another round. I honestly wouldn’t mind it.

“I surrender, for real this time.” She blows out another breath and I help her out by letting go of one wrist so I can push the hair out of her face.

Her lustful eyes peer up at me as she catches her breath. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” I tell her as I eye the plastic spider still in her hair. I pluck it out only to set it down on her nose with a mischievous grin.

She wriggles and squirms, causing it to fall on her shoulder. “You’re such a dork.”

“And you're such an easy target,” I tease.

I notice the way her eyes dart to my lips, only to shoot right back up. “You’d be singing a different tune if you didn’t have me pinned to the floor.”

“Oh yeah?” I jut my chin out in a challenge. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Brogan bites her lip. “Let me up and I’ll show you.”

“Nah. I sort of like you underneath me on your back.” Preferably biting her lip while she screams my name, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“Oh my God, Hayes.” She giggles and swats me with her free hand.

It’s the truth. In fact, I think this is my new favorite way to look at her. Not only is she crazy beautiful with her messy hair scattered around her head, but she truly is at my mercy.

Heat radiates through my body and I can almost taste the desire on her lips. My fingers twitch as the temptation to touch her soft skin gnaws at my insides.

With my free hand, I reach out and stroke the back of my fingers against her cheek. “Ya know. I could kiss you right now and there isn’t a damn thing you could do about it.”

She swallows hard, her body tensing underneath me. “Do it and find out.”

I was not expecting that response. Damn . I think she actually wants me to kiss her. After days of torment, it’s finally happening.

Leaning down, I brush my lips against hers, but before I can add pressure, she turns her head to the left.

My head shoots up and disappointment floods through me. “What was that all about?”

When she looks back at me, she’s smiling. “I guess you found out.”

“Not funny.” I go to push myself up, but before I can, she grabs my face and pulls my mouth to hers, taking me by complete surprise.

My body falls into hers, covering her like a warm blanket as the curves of her lips mold perfectly to mine. Every nerve in my body feels like it’s been lit on fire. Warmth spreads from our kiss down to my cock and it hardens instantly.

It feels like I’ve been waiting for this moment for ages, even though it was only recently I even realized I had feelings for Brogan. I knew from the start she was different from any other girl and I can’t deny that I've been magnetized to her. Wherever she is, I want to be. If she’s not there, I don’t want to go. She consumes me—every thought, every dream, every second of every day.

I run my fingers through her hair, getting a gentle but firm grip on the back of her head. Lifting up, I bring her closer and deepen our kiss. Our tongues dance, our lips gliding effortlessly together.

The ache in my groin tells me I need to stop this before it only gets worse. But before I can, the door to the room flies open and Brogan startles out of the kiss before pushing two hands to my chest.

“Ooopsies.” I hear Avery’s voice from behind me.

My body rises, hovering over Brogan’s, and she immediately wriggles her way out from underneath me.

We both stand—Brogan wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, and me scratching my hand wondering why she reacted like we just got caught hiding a body.

“I’m so sorry,” Avery says as she walks quickly to her side of the room. She gets on her knees, fishing for something under her bed. “Don’t mind me. Just keep doing what you were doing.”

Brogan and I share a glance and a grin spreads across both of our faces as we fight not to laugh.

Avery’s head pops up and she stands, holding a pair of tennis shoes. “I knew they were under here somewhere.”

“Ugh. Whatcha got planned, Ave?” Brogan asks with a raised brow.

“Evan and I are going to a haunted corn maze and I don’t want to break an ankle in these shoes.” She turns her foot up, showing off her black high heels. “Do you two want to go with us?”

I look at Brogan who is shaking her head. “I’ve got an afternoon game tomorrow and need some good sleep. Probably shouldn’t.”

I back her up by saying, “Yeah and I’m pretty beat after tonight’s game.”

Avery’s gaze shifts back and forth between me and Brogan, a devious smirk spreading across her face. “I think I’m picking up what you’re putting down. You two want some time alone.”

“No,” Brogan sputters a laugh. “Why would Hayes and I want time alone?”

Avery moves hastily across the room. “Oh I think we both know why.” She turns the handle and pulls the door open. “By the way, I like what you two have done with the place.” With that, she leaves.

As soon as the door latches, we both burst into laughter. But when the moment passes and the humor has settled, I move to her side as she pretends to organize random items on her dresser. “Does it bother you that Avery walked in on us kissing?”

She doesn’t even look at me—just keeps moving stuff around. “Not at all. What makes you think that?”

“Ugh. How about the way you rolled out from under me like you were on fire.”

There’s a tense beat of silence and she’s still fucking with things on her dresser, so I put my hand on her shoulder and turn her to face me. “What’s this all about?”

She averts her gaze, thinking for a minute before saying, “that shouldn’t have happened.” Her words are like a knife to my chest. “Kamden I just broke up and you and I…” She waves her hand between us. “...we don’t want this. Right?”

I nod, spitting out the first word that comes to mind. “No.” I clear my throat. “Hell no. Of course not.”

Something in her expression falls, like I just said the wrong thing, and I know in my gut I did. But there is no going back. “I’m glad we both agree. Because I’m actually starting to enjoy your company and the last thing I want to do is make things messy.”

I’m not sure if that was a compliment or an insult. It could go either way. I enjoy her company, too, but I don’t tell her that. Instead, I step away from her, trying to wrap my head around what’s happening.

There’s no fucking way she didn’t feel what I felt when we kissed. She can’t deny the sexual tension between us or the way our eyes connect and it’s like we’re reading each other’s souls. Yet, she is denying it. She’s saying it never should have happened. But why are her eyes telling me a different story?

She’s not ready. There hasn’t been enough time. I just hope forty-eight hours is long enough to change her mind.

That kiss needs to stew a little bit on her mind. I want her to think about it—dream about it. Then wake up and wish for it to happen again.

“I’m gonna get going.” I walk over to my shoes and begin sliding them on with the laces still tied.

“You’re not mad are you?”

My eyes snap to hers and I immediately notice the sadness behind them. “Hell no.” I force a smile as I go back to her bed and grab my backpack. “Not even a little bit. Just beat after the game and I could really use a long shower.” I fling my bag over my shoulder and cross the room, stopping where she’s at in the middle.

Cupping her cheeks in my head, I press my lips to her forehead, holding them there for a second before I take a step back. “Get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She walks me to the door and pulls it open. “Thanks for tonight. It was probably one of the best nights I’ve had since coming to Rosewood-U.”

“Me, too, Legs.” Me fucking too. I walk out the door and take a few steps down the hall before she stops me.

“Hayes?”

I look back at her, hoping like hell she’s had a change of heart and she wants me to come back.

With half her body in the hall, she leans into the doorframe. “Our deal still stands, right? You said you’ll see me tomorrow so I assume that means we’re still making the video, right?”

An ache ripples through my chest as my heart drops into my stomach.

“Sure,” I tell her. “Our deal still stands.”

She quirks a brow. “I was thinking maybe next Thursday after the Kappa Rho Halloween party?”

“Next Thursday it is.”