“Decoy.” He smirked. “I wanted you to be surprised.”
“Devon! Why didn’t you tell me we had awesome accommodations? It would have been way easier to convince me to go camping,” she teased.
“I had to make sure you were committed. Come on.”
Devon took Sam’s hand and squeezed it, trying to hide his nervousness. Come on, Devon. Do or die, mate.
Sam
Sam followed Devon to the large canvas tent, while Eggsy raced ahead of them to the lake. Sam could scarcely take it all in. She’d never seen something so beautiful. The fields of heather looked like purple waves crashing down the hills, spilling into the serene lake. The view from the lake was amazing. In the fading daylight, Sam could just make out the silhouette of the mountains in the background. “So this is your secret spot, huh?” she asked in awe as they approached the tent. The sun was burning the sky red as it sunk behind the mountains. “It’s beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Is this where you bring all your almost girlfriends?” she teased.
“Just you,” he said quietly.
Sam swallowed. She didn’t like when Devon looked at her like he was now—all shy and vulnerable, no hint of playfulness. It made her feelings for him rush to the surface. Stupid, misguided hormones!
“I have one more surprise,” Devon said. “Close your eyes for a second, okay?”
“Why?”
“Can you just trust me, Sam?” he huffed.
“Fine.” She put her hand over her eyes.
“Okay, stay there and no peeking,” Devon called.
Sam couldn’t help peeking. She wasn’t falling for spiders in her hair again. She peeked through her fingers and watched Devon vanish through the tent flaps. What was he up to? She kept peeking until she heard him come out. He seemed empty handed so she closed her eyes as he approached.
“Okay,” he said gently putting his hand on the small of her back. “Keep ‘em closed and walk forward.”
She shuffled forward awkwardly and heard a whoosh of fabric.
“Open!” Devon said.
Sam stood dumbfounded in front of the open tent flaps. What she was seeing couldn’t be real. It was like something out of a fairytale. The inside of the tent was fit for a princess. It had a raised wooden floor with a pale yellow rug, and resting on top of it were two mattresses covered in fluffy white blankets and pillows. And everywhere she looked, Sam saw strings of glowing white lights.
“Do you like it?” Devon asked.
“Devon,” she whispered. “You did all of this? For me?”
He shrugged. “I wanted you to like camping.”
She turned her eyes away from the fairy lights to look at him. He was grinning sheepishly. “How did you do this?”
“It really wasn’t too hard. I already had the tent company reserved. I was still hoping my dad might be well enough to come, so I found this company that sets up luxury tents so he’d have all the amenities he’d need. There’s even a bathroom! Then, when you agreed to come, I called the company to ask them for something special.”
This was something special all right. Megan would literally have a stroke if she saw this. She’d never stop calling him Prince Charming now.
“Do you like it?” he asked again.
“It’s . . . I don’t even have words for it, Devon. I feel like I’m in a dream.”
“A good dream, right?”
She laughed. “So far.”
“Grand.” A huge, dimpled smile lit his face. “Oh, and look,” he said flopping down onto one of the beds in the center of the tent. He stared up at the ceiling and patted the bed next to him. Sam sat on it, noticing how close they were. The beds were barely separated by a foot! She clamped down on her raging hormones as she lay back on the bed. She looked up and her breath caught in her throat as she stared through the opening above her that gave way to the sky. A cerulean blanket of stars was just beginning to wink to life.
A tear slid slowly down Sam’s cheek. She’d never seen something so lovely.
“I wanted you to be able to see the stars,” Devon murmured. “You said you like them, remember?”
Sam turned to look at him. He was already gazing at her, in that tender way that made her feel hot all over. “How do you remember the things I say better than I do?” she whispered.
Devon turned on his side reaching over to tuck a stray strand of Sam’s dark hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered on her cheek, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touched. He lightly cupped her jaw and whispered, “I remember everything about you, Sam.”
Her lips parted, and Devon’s gray eyes noticed. His thumb brushed her bottom lip and she exhaled her nerves. “Devon,” she murmured, not sure if it was a warning or a plea. He pulled himself closer. Their lips were a breath apart.
Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! Stop this, Sam! Do not kiss him. She repeated her mantra. You are the empress of your hormones! They do not control you. But she knew that was a lie. Her whole body had been hijacked with the sudden desire to kiss every part of Devon.
Devon leaned closer. Sam held her breath. But before their lips could meet, a shaggy giant pounced between them. Eggsy showered them with sloppy kisses ruining the moment.
“Eggsy!” Devon roared, trying to push the giant dog off of them.
Sam sat up, grateful the spell had been broken. She stood and backed away from the beds, fearing they might actually have magical powers, because for a moment there, she almost thought she wanted to kiss Devon—almost.
Thanks to Eggsy, the rest of the night was more light-hearted. Sam helped Devon build a fire and they ate their dinner of hand pies and stew huddled around it. The moon was nearly full and the crisp night air was freezing. Sam grabbed a heavy plaid blanket from the tent to wrap around her shoulders while Devon broke out the S’mores supplies. He passed her a flask of whiskey and she raised her eyebrows.
“My father’s favorite part of camping,” he said. “Keeps away the chill.”
She smirked and took a swig, before passing it back to him.
“I can’t believe you’ve never made S’mores!” Devon muttered, while stabbing a pile of defenseless marshmallows. “It’s a travesty.”
“It’s not like I’ve never heard of them. I’ve tried the S’more Pop-Tarts.”
“You and your Pop-Tarts.”
“Hey! Don’t knock Pop-Tarts ‘til you’ve tried them.”
“Fine, but S’more Pop-Tarts are not gonna hold up to the real thing. You can’t manufacture this level of perfection.” Devon shook his head, still muttering. “Never had a real S’more.”
“Give me a break. Downtown Boston kinda has a zero tolerance for bonfires. The city has a sorted history with fires.”
“Well, you’re gonna thank me,” Devon said feeding Sam a gooey bite of the S’more he’d just constructed.
She bit into it and groaned as the bubbly marshmallow and warm chocolate melted in her mouth. “Oh my God,” she mumbled trying to catch the crumbling graham crackers. “Okay, you’re right, this is heaven!”
Devon laughed. “Grand, right?” He popped the rest in his own mouth and licked his sticky fingers. “I knew you’d love it,” he said, skewering more marshmallows.
“Uh, that’s the understatement of the year. Do you think we can get Cara to add these to the menu at home?”
“Believe me, we’ve already tried. They’re my dad’s favorite.”
“Really? I never would have guessed.”
Devon shrugged. “Yeah. He’s a different person lately.”
Sam noticed a stillness settle over Devon. It happened a lot when he talked about his father. She hated seeing him hurt. “Is it the cancer or Cara?” she asked quietly, hoping she wasn’t prying.
“A little of both I guess,” was all Devon offered.
“Cancer can change a person. Especially near the end. But he still loves you, you know?”
“I know . . . it’s just . . .” Devon sighed.
“It’s just, everything feels like . . . like I can’t hold on to it. Like my dad’s slipping away, and my future, and . . . I don’t have any control over it.” Devon put the stick of marshmallows down and took a swig from his flask. He shook his head and slumped forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Sometimes I just want to go back, ya know? To before everything got so messed up.”
He shivered and Sam wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the conversation. She didn’t know what to say, so she adjusted her blanket to drape over Devon’s shoulders too. He leaned into her and smiled, passing her the flask. She took a sip and felt the liquor warm her chest on the way down.
“It isn’t all bad, is it?” she asked passing the flask back.
“No,” he grunted taking a swig. “And I know change is inevitable, but I just want to hold on to all the good things I have right now. My dad . . . you . . .”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“What about Boston?”
“I don’t know. Ireland’s sorta growing on me.”
“Really?”
The hope in his voice tore at her chest. She nodded.
“Well, shite! I should’ve taken ya camping months ago.”
They both laughed.
“Seriously though, Sam. Thanks for doing this. The thought of having to come out here without my dad . . .” he shook his head again. “Well, it’s just easier when I’m with you.” He took another long drink from the flask. “Everything’s easier with you, Sam.”
She nudged her shoulder into his, echoing his sentiments. He was staring at her.
“What?” she asked, wondering if she still had marshmallow on her face.
“Sam?” Devon turned so he was fully facing her. He ran his hand through his hair before taking her hands. “I think . . . I mean, I know . . . that I’m falling for you.”
Her heart sputtered and a smile snuck out of Sam’s mouth before she could catch it. How much whiskey had he drank? How much had she drank?
“What’s in that flask?” she asked trying to brush off his comment. Because she didn’t want it to be true. She didn’t think she could handle it, if it were true. Because that would mean she was alone, in the woods, with a boy who felt the same way about her as she did about him. And that wouldn’t lead anywhere good. Well, maybe it would be good—okay more than good. It would probably be fucking grand! But then it would be bad. It would get complicated and messy.
Sam’s subconscious—who sounded a lot like Megan—chimed in. But what if you stop being scared and it works and it’s great?
What if it did? It still didn’t change the fact that Sam was moving back to Boston. She couldn’t stay in Ireland. Could she? No, she was moving back to Boston and they would both end up hurt if she gave in to her feelings. And Devon didn’t deserve that. Hurting him wasn’t something Sam could risk.
Sam was already on her feet moving away.
Devon followed, letting the blanket fall to the ground. “Sam, please don’t freak out. Just talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking. I can see your mind going a mile a minute.”
“I’m thinking you’re drunk, or crazy, or both.”
“Sam, I’m not. I’m serious. I’ve felt this way for a long time. A really long time.”
“Devon! No, you don’t. It’s only because we’re in the woods with this crazy fairytale tent. And you’ve been drinking whiskey.”
“It’s not the whiskey.”
“I really, really want it to be the whiskey!” she said backing away from him.
Devon grabbed her hands. “Why? Would it really be so bad if we gave this a chance?”
“Yes! We’re in a good place right now, Devon. I don’t want to screw this up for one night of fun.”
“I want more than one night, Sam. I want all your nights. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I don’t want to be your almost boyfriend anymore. I want the real thing.”
Sam was shaking as she stared at Devon. He seemed so sure of himself. He wasn’t raking his hands through his hair and his eyes were clear and bright. He seemed like he’d actually thought this through.
She stared at the beautiful planes of his face illuminated by the crackling firelight. Embers sparked and floated above him like dancing fireflies. The scene was so magical it took her breath away. This wasn’t real. This was a dream. Sam couldn’t end up with Devon James. Could she?
“Devon . . .” she started. She was already shaking her head and trying to pull away from him.
“Please don’t say no, Sam. Just think about it, okay? That’s all I’m asking. Think about giving us a chance. Because I’ve loved you since I was eight years old. And nothing’s going to change that. If you’re not ready yet, I can wait.”
Sam swallowed hard. But she nodded.
25
Sam
Sam lay on her back warm under the covers of her comfy bed inside the tent. She had no idea what time it was. She was sure it was late, but she couldn’t close her eyes. Not with Devon’s words running through her mind. They were like a song on repeat, swelling up inside her chest. All Sam could do was stare up at the winking constellations wishing they held an answer.
After their fireside conversation, they decided to turn in for the night. Devon had promised not to pressure her and she knew he didn’t mean to, but sleeping next to him felt like sleeping next to a landmine. One false move and her world would implode. It was so strange how they’d spent nights talking in each others beds, but now, sleeping a foot apart, Sam felt like she was crossing a line. God, she wished he would take it all back. He hadn’t even kissed her tonight, but he may as well have because things were changing. And if things were going to be weird between them, she really, really wanted to have at least one more Olympic kiss.
Their first kiss at Finnegan’s kept running through her mind. It happened so fast she hadn’t really had time to appreciate it—well that’s a lie, it was a freaking fantastic kiss—but she hadn’t really had time to decide if she wanted it to happen again.
“Sam?” Devon whispered in the darkness, making her jump. “Are you awake?”
“Yeah,” she replied.
“I can’t stop looking at the stars,” he said, still whispering, which made her smile.
“Me neither.”
“It just makes me feel oneness, with the universe, ya know?”
She snorted. “Oneness?”
“Hey, don’t knock the oneness. The oneness is grand.”
She laughed. “You’re such a nerd.”
“I know,” he sighed. “Too bad I’m not a tech nerd.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re more of a nature nerd.”
“Definitely.”
She didn’t risk looking at him, but she could hear the smile in his voice and it made her smile too.
“Hey, Sam?”
“Huh?”
“I think you like camping.”
“Shut up.”
“No, you definitely like camping.”
“Almost,” she said trying not to smile.
“Hey, Sam?”
“What?”
“I’m not pressuring you, but I really meant what I said.”
Her chest tightened and she finally asked the question that had been nagging her. “What if you change your mind?”
“About loving you?” He sounded shocked. “I wont.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know.”
She was silent, refusing to look at the bed next to her. The bed that was illuminated with a bright slice of moonlight as if the heavens were daring her.
“Hey, Sam?”
“What?”
“I really wanna kiss you.”
Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! She swallowed hard. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. And I think you wanna kiss me too.”
She couldn’t resist any longer. Sam turned to look at Devon. He was already looking at her—his face glowing in the m
oonlight.
“Sam?” he whispered reaching for her hand.
She let him take it. “Yeah?”
“No more almost, okay?”
“Okay.”
She held her breath as Devon pulled himself closer to her. He hovered over her, his face blocking out the stars as he gently cradled her head. He hesitated, almost like he was waiting for her to push him away. She didn’t. She wanted this. She wanted at least one more kiss. She fought not to close her eyes as Devon finally lowered his face to hers. When their lips met, she let her eyelids flutter closed with a sigh as she clung to the afterglow of the stars and lost herself in his perfect lips.
It was only one kiss, but Sam had been right to worry, because it changed everything. She’d barely been able to pull herself away. They were both panting and breathless, and Devon pressed his forehead to hers like it pained him not to have his lips on hers. They both sat up, staring at each other—pupils wide, breathing ragged. Sam’s entire body was on fire. Holy hell! And that was just a kiss! Sam didn’t think she could actually handle anything more than kissing Devon. But he was like heroine and she was already itching for more.
After the life-changing kiss, Devon pushed his bed against Sam’s so they could hold hands and gaze at the stars together. She could tell he wanted to kiss her again, but as long as they were touching, he seemed content enough. Sam lay on her back staring at the sky while Devon traced electric circles on her palm with his thumb. It was heaven.
Sam’s favorite thing about the tent was the skylight. Okay it was probably the kiss. But her second favorite thing was gazing at the stars with Devon. She felt like she could reach up and grab them. She used to pretend she actually could when she was little. It’s one of the few things she remembered doing with her mother. Just to be silly, Sam raised her hand and pretended to catch a star between her fingers. Devon reached up too. Then, he threaded his fingers with hers. And it was just the two of them, with the stars in their hands. Sam felt the world stop. Devon was right. The oneness was grand—everything was grand.
Sam decided she definitely liked camping. And she definitely, definitely liked Devon. She was tired of being afraid to want him. She took a deep breath and tried to harness her fear. For the first time, she was starting to realize that her fear of making the wrong choice was so much smaller than her fear of never making a choice at all.
The Almost Boyfriend (The Boyfriend Series Book 2) Page 15
