Pizza My Heart(A Billionaire Romance, Part 2)(3)

Devon laughed at me. “If you think that I’m that easy to get rid of, then you obviously don’t know me very well.”

“Of course I don’t know you very well,” I said, exasperated. “I just met you, not a week ago, delivering a pizza to your drunk ass.” I was moved to recall that we’d exchanged similar words outside of Nana’s house just days ago, when I’d ended up deleting the terrible picture I’d taken of him in his hotel room. He hadn’t known me very well at that point. He probably knew me now better than I was comfortable with. Tragedy seemed to bring people closer. And Nana’s sudden death, there on that beach, had been the single greatest tragedy of my life.

It had been happenstance that Devon was there with me when I found her. Just a curious little oddity that he’d helped me with the arrangements, the costs incurred, the tasks that I couldn’t seem to do by myself. I appreciated him. I didn’t know what I’d be doing if he had simply washed his hands of me as soon as we’d found Nana there, lifeless in her wheelchair, her face lifted to the sun.

“I have to tell you something, June, and I really hesitate to do so.” Devon looked at me so intently that I glanced away, reminded at once of the beauty we were surrounded by, the thundering waterfall. The man beside me.

“Tell me whatever you think you need to tell me,” I sighed. “I give you permission.”

“It sounds petty,” he said slowly, “but I was still in a twisted-up place when I said that to you on the plane. Yes, I was doing this to impress you. I wanted you to like me. I’m not used to people not liking me. I guess I’m trying to say, as stupid as it sounds, that I got my heart broken. I was still messed up from my breakup. If I’m being completely honest, I guess I still am. It’s just…with your Nana dying, it seems like there should be bigger things to worry about than getting my feelings hurt.”

I wanted to be supportive. I was the one who’d encouraged him to communicate, after all. But Devon was back to sounding entitled. Or maybe I was just feeling jealous. No woman wanted to hear that the man she’d slept with a couple of days ago was still torn up about the previous woman. This was hard to take. Harder, still, without Nana. Her absence gave everything a raw edge.

“I can’t be your rebound, Devon,” I told him. “Maybe I could’ve done that for you before Nana died, but now I just don’t seem to be up for any more bullshit.”

“Am I asking you for that?” He laughed, incredulous, the sound mixing with the tumbling water before us. “That’s not what I’m after, June. Hell, I’m not after anything. I’m as surprised as you are that things have gotten to this level between us.”

“We’ve reached a level?” What was this, a video game?

“I don’t know how to explain it,” he said. “Did I want to sleep with you? Of course I did. I’m a man. You’re beautiful. Anyone would be an ass to squander a chance with you.”

I huffed at him, rolling my eyes. I knew my looks didn’t hold a candle to Hollywood’s definition of even average prettiness.

Suddenly, Devon’s frustration matched my own. He stood and yanked me up with him.

“What are you doing?” I demanded. “Let go of me.”

“Not until you admit something,” he said, practically dragging me over to the water’s edge. He forced me to lean forward, over the pool of water, rippling from the waterfall just upstream.

“What do you want?” I tried to elbow him sharply, tried to get him away from me, but he was insistent.

“Look,” he said, pointing toward the water’s surface. “Look and tell me what you see.”

“Water,” I spat, hating him. Why was he doing this? Nana’s ashes were still roiling in the surf. I wasn’t in the mood for any games.

“Look at your reflection.”

His quiet intensity made me focus on the surface of the water until I discerned the outline of me, and then my features. I relaxed my face immediately. My angry face had always been a little frightening, my brow thunderous.

“Tell me what you see now.” Devon’s grip on me hadn’t loosened one bit.

“I see…me.”

“Uh-huh. And are you defective in any way?”

Defective? “I don’t understand.”

“Is there something about you that you don’t like? Some kind of defective part that makes you less desirable than any other woman?”

I studied my face in the pool, no sound but the waterfall beside us. “No.”

“That’s right,” Devon said, apparently satisfied enough that he let go of my arm. “I don’t understand why you can’t accept the fact that you’re beautiful. Because you are.”