Page 55 of My Beautiful Sin

“El! El! Ellie! Baby, come on wake up!”

Devlin’s voice pounds against me through the bitter haze of sleep, and I fight my way up through the fog, forcing my eyes to open and my body to stop screaming with the reverberation of the gunshot. I’m breathing hard when his face comes into focus. His eyes on mine, his brow furrowed, worry painted all across his face. He strokes my cheek and pulls me close and kisses my forehead, murmuring, “Hush, hush, baby. I’m here. It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“Oh, God, I’m sorry.” I cling to him, still trying to catch my breath, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shift, trying to gather the lingering threads of the dream as I sit up in bed, pulling the sheet up and hugging it around me like a security blanket. “I was with Uncle Peter,” I begin, then tell him the dream. Tears prick my eyes as I finish. “You killed Peter to save me,” I say, as Devlin moves even closer, his nearness both comforting and sweetly enticing. He takes my hand, his thumb rubbing the tender skin at my wrist.

“You killed Peter to protect me,” I say again. “That took courage.”

“Courage is easy in a dream.”

I laugh. There’s no denying that’s true. Even so...

I meet his eyes. “It wasn’t only in a dream, though.” A fist seems to tighten around my heart. “I came back to you because I need you. Because I forgave you. But I’m not sure I truly understood what you went through for me until now.” I press my hand against his jaw, then lightly stroke my thumb over his lip. “What you did—Uncle Peter, I mean—that took courage.”

When he starts to shake his head, I shift my position so that I can hold his head in place as I look into his eyes. “You told Brandy and Lamar the truth, too. That took courage as well.”

“Technically, you told them the truth. And neither one of us told Lamar the full truth.”

I lift a shoulder. “Yeah, well, he’s smart. I think part of me knew he’d figure it out. And don’t split hairs. You made the decision to bring them into our circle. I’m saying thank you.”

“It’s easy to be courageous if you have a reason.”

“Me?”

“What else? Who else?”

The intensity of the statement acts like a charge on my senses, and I ease closer, wanting —no, needing—to touch him. The sheet has fallen, and we’re both naked. My pulse speeds up and my nipples tighten as I brush a kiss over his lips, craving skin on skin, body on body.

But when I pull back to look in his eyes, I see not only a desire that rivals my own, but hesitation as well. “What is it?” I ask, confused and a little disappointed.

He glances away. “When you called out for me in your dream, you called me Devlin.”

I shake my head, not sure what’s remarkable about that.

“Uncle Peter was in the dream. When you knew me alongside Peter, I was Alex. Was I Devlin in the dream?”

It’s already fading in the way that dreams do, and I try to grasp the threads of it, try to pull it back and take a closer look at the dream in my memory. “I think so. I don’t know. But if that’s what I said, then you must have been. Does it matter?”

He shrugs, almost boyish, and doesn’t answer.

For a moment, I’m confused, and then understanding dawns. He’s unsure. He’s still not certain if I’m with him because of my lingering love for Alex or if I’ve truly accepted this new man—Devlin—in all of his facets. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“Do I?”

“I loved Alex,” I say, untangling myself from the sheet and settling myself on his lap. The sheet is still a barrier—he’d tugged it to his hips as he’d slid up in the bed—but I can feel his erection teasing my core all the same. I can feel the tension in his body, too. It’s costing him to hold back. To not take me as he wants to, claiming my body until he’s conquered the nightmare for me. And this moment—this insight into the vulnerability of the man I love—makes my heart swell.

“I love you,” I say, wishing there was an even bigger, more encompassing word. “You’re the same as the Alex you were, but you’re different, too, and there’s room in my heart for both versions.”

Gently, his hands rest on my waist. “I hope that’s true,” he says, and there’s a harshness to his voice that I’m not expecting in such a tender moment.

I reach out and tuck a lock of his chin-length hair behind his ear. “Devlin? Tell me what’s going on.”

“That’s the issue, isn’t it? You don’t really know the new me. Not completely. And honestly? I’m not sure you ever will.”

His words chill me, but I do my best not to show it. “Well, that’s true with anybody, isn’t it? You can never know anyone completely.” I press my hand to his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin. “But I know your heart. I know the core of you. Don’t I?”