Page 11 of My Beautiful Sin

“Yeah,” I say, my heart aching for her. “But if you want something real between you two, you’re going to have to tell him at some point, right? Better to talk now. Wait too long, and it’ll just get harder.”

“I suppose. And I really do plan—oh, shit. The second batch.” She whirls away from me, and I look down to hide my expression, all my attention on my muffin.

I don’t blame Brandy for being scared to talk about what happened to her. After all, like me, she’s almost twenty-nine. Unlike me, she’s only slept with one guy, not counting the bastard who stole her virginity, and it didn’t go well. Conversations about sex with men aren’t high on Brandy’s skill set. For that matter, neither is picking guys who will be sensitive to what she needs.

She’s gone out with a few she genuinely liked, but so far none who were inclined to stick around when they realized sex might be a long time coming.

The world really isn’t a fair place. I’ve known that my whole life. Brandy’s known it since our senior year. And both of us have been at the receiving end of that basic reality more than our fair share. Which, I guess, proves the point.

I pull off a piece of muffin and pop it in my mouth, savoring the sweet, nutty flavor. Brandy’s my best friend, and one of the nicest people I know, so I hate that she’s had such shitty luck with men. Maybe it’s the law of averages, but I can’t believe there aren’t more men out there who are not only willing to wait, but are also sweet in bed.

Maybe Christopher really is the guy. If she’s getting that serious about him, I hope so; I hate the thought of her getting hurt again. And the truth is, they really don’t know each other that well yet. He’s a novelist who came to town to do research for his next thriller. I met him in the Research Room at the Devlin Saint Foundation. About the same time, he met Brandy by accident, which means they’ve been seeing each other for about five minutes in Relationship Time. I’m not even sure where he actually lives, only that he’s staying at an Airbnb while he’s in Laguna Cortez.

He’s smart and sweet and seems to truly care about Brandy. I see that clearly enough, and I know that she does, too, and yet she’s still holding back. Understandable, I suppose, considering she was practically unconscious her first time after an asshole at a party slipped her a date rape drug. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she ended up pregnant, which sent her parents over the deep end and the baby into an adopted home.

Traumatic as hell, and so I get why she doesn’t want to talk about it. But if she holds onto that secret for too long, I’m certain it’ll drive Christopher away. After all, some secrets between couples are okay. But when the secret is big—when it’s the kind that can truly impact a relationship—well, then silence isn’t a neutral issue. It becomes a real obstacle in the relationship.

I frown, realizing I’m no longer thinking about Brandy. My thoughts have instead turned to Devlin. He flat out told me that he has secrets. There will always be secrets between us, he’d said. You should have stayed away.

He told me he was a dangerous bet, but he never expected me to run. Not really. That much I’m sure of. Because Devlin knows me. He’s seen my demons, and he knows that danger doesn’t scare me.

No—that’s not true. It does scare me. But that’s the thrill. That’s the rush, all the more potent because I never expect it. Danger stole my whole family from me, and yet I’m still here.

I’m not the girl who flirts with danger. I’m the woman who tells danger to go fuck itself.

I shiver, not liking this dark direction of my thoughts. What I feel for Devlin is real—it is. It’s not some fucked up manifestation of survivor’s guilt. I know that. I believe it. I love him, and I’m falling deeper every day.

But how deep can the roots of our relationship really go when I know that he’s not only been keeping secrets, but that he never, ever intends to reveal them to me?

Chapter Five

“So we’re meeting tonight, right?” I ask a few hours later as Brandy frowns at her reflection in the hall mirror. “You, me, and Lamar for drinks at five?”

“That’s the plan,” she says. “As long as it’s only us playing catch-up and not the two of you organizing my love life.”

“Cross my heart,” I say, miming the action as I speak the words. “You sure you don’t want to talk more?” She’d deftly shifted the conversation after rescuing the second batch of muffins, and since my thoughts had turned far too deep and disturbing, I hadn’t pressed the issue. Now, though, I’m having friend guilt.

“With you, maybe, later. But as much as I love Lamar, I don’t want him being my relationship guru. Just my drinking buddy.”

I laugh, because I can’t argue with that. “Fair enough. I’ll shield you from questions about Christopher, and you do the same for me with questions about Devlin.”

She makes a face. “I’ll wear my favorite fire-retardant outfit.”

“Not funny.”

“Oh, I think it was,” she teases. “At least a little.”

She smirks, and I frown. We both know that Devlin isn’t on Lamar’s Favorite People list. Or, more accurately, he’s not on Lamar’s Favorite People for Ellie list. Lamar and I have been friends since we were cadets at the Irvine Police Academy. I’d been the only female and he’d been the only black cadet, and we’d bonded immediately. And though there’s never been anything romantic between us, we’re both protective of each other, and Devlin has picked up on that.

A long time ago, Lamar had a semi-crush on me. More of the let’s be friends with benefits variety than the let’s start a relationship kind. Sometimes, he’ll still tease me about hooking up, but not in a serious way. I’m sure he’d still go for a friends with benefits fling, but that’s because he has no problems mixing casual sex with friendship. I do, though, and I put the brakes on that possibility years ago. Because while he may be able to sleep with someone and stay friends, I fuck and bolt.

Or I used to. Devlin is the only exception to my rule. Probably because it was my past with Alex that set that particular rule in motion.

Now Lamar’s like Brandy. A close confidant. Unlike Brandy, he doesn’t know that Devlin used to be Alex Leto. Which means I have to watch myself around him, which I hate. But at the same time there’s no way I’ll break Devlin’s confidence. I might harass the shit out of him to give in and let me tell Lamar, but I absolutely won’t undermine him.

In fact, Lamar may never learn the truth. Because unlike Brandy, Devlin doesn’t trust him. That, however, is Devlin’s problem. I can count on two fingers the close friends I have, and while I’ll keep Devlin’s secret, there is no way I’m ditching a friend just because my boyfriend is jealous.

“Cask & Barrel at five, right?” Brandy asks.