Dream On(20)

In the drawing, Devin is resting his chin in his hand, staring into the middle distance as though he’s listening intently. Real Devin shuffles closer; I register his presence as he hands Brie’s phone back to her and stands at my side. Heart hammering, I steal a glance at his face. His wide eyes dart across the image, no doubt attempting to process what he’s seeing. I swallow hard and flip a few more pages, letting him take it all in.

“What the hell?” Perry breathes from over Devin’s shoulder.

“I drew this one seven months ago. And this one”—I thumb through several more sketches until landing on one of Devin lying in the grass with his hands behind his head—“five months ago. They’re dated, see?” I tap the date scribbled at the bottom of the page.

“As if you couldn’t have faked the dates,” scoffs Perry.

I whirl on him, heat rising in my cheeks. “I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I have better things to do than cook up an elaborate scheme to trap some guy. I have a life and a law career, you know.”

“This is a lot to take in,” Devin murmurs. Scrubbing a palm over his mouth, he blows out a long breath. “Okay. Tell me something no one else would know about me. Something you can’t learn from the Internet.”

Conversations buzz all around us while upbeat music fills the air, but it’s like I’ve stepped into the vacuum of space. Everything seems to go quiet as I narrow my focus to a laser point on Devin’s determined features. How can I possibly tell him something so personal? Most of my memories of him are fragments or clips—scraps of conversation and impressions of feelings, sounds, and scenes. I open my mouth, but only a croaking sound comes out.

Perry shakes his head. “I knew it. Come on.” Tugging Devin’s arm, he ushers him toward the door.

“Wait!” I call. “I—I know that your parents divorced when you were six. You like watching murder-mystery documentaries with your dad. And… and… I know about your plans for the family business! How you want to…” A phrase echoes from the depths of my memory, and I seize it. “… deliver it into the future.”

I’m not exactly sure what that means, but Devin and Perry must because they both freeze. Perry’s eyebrows raise so high they’ve disappeared underneath his mop of copper-brown hair.

Devin’s face pales. “How do you know about that?”

“That’s the whole point. I have no idea. And that’s what I want to find out.” I put every ounce of earnest conviction I can behind my words, willing him to believe me. We stare at each other for several heartbeats. He’s standing a mere few feet away, but the space between us feels as cavernous as a football stadium. My gut squeezes and I hold my breath.

Finally, he shifts his weight and looks away. “Well, shit.” Tipping his head back, he lets out a peal of deep laughter. The sound pierces my chest and travels all the way to my toes. “So I’m the man of your dreams?”

A breathy laugh escapes me. “Kind of.”

“Okay then.”

My heart hopscotches. “Okay then? Does that mean you’ll hear me out?”

“Sure. This is wild. I don’t think we’ve ever met…” Devin’s voice trails off as he studies my face. Shaking his head, he looks away. “It’s a lot to process, but maybe there’s something to it. How about we put our heads together over drinks and see if we can solve this mystery? Say, Friday?”

My mind goes blank. “Ahhhh—”

“Friday. She’ll be there,” Brie chimes in.

I swallow thickly. “It’s a date. I mean—not a date,” I hastily add when Devin blinks. “It’ll be more like… an interview. A get-to-know-you sort of thing.” Heat pools in my cheeks and I want to dive under the bar to hide. Why am I so awkward?

Devin scratches his nose. “So, we’ll sit down. Have a couple drinks. Talk. Exchange life stories. See what we have in common or who we both might know besides Marcus who can explain this situation. That kind of thing.”

“Right.”

“Okay.” His tongue sneaks out to wet his lower lip and sparks dance in my belly. Snagging a pen from behind the bar, Devin jots his phone number on a napkin and hands it to me. Clicking the pen closed, he peers at me from underneath a lock of dark hair that’s fallen across his forehead. “See you then.”

Behind me, someone groans, and I spot Perry staring at the floor shaking his head. My gut tightens. I’ve been through so much in the last year, but to have my dream man be… well, real? And to have a chance to figure out why he’s been in my head since the accident? To turn that opportunity down would be like saying no to a giant handout from the universe. If I have any hope of living my best life again, I need to figure out what happened in the imaginary one—Perry’s disapproval be damned.

Brie snatches the napkin from Devin and tucks it into my bag, along with my sketchbook. “Well, we should get going. Early day tomorrow. Right, Cass?”

“Right. It was good seeing—er, meeting you.”

Chuckling, Devin draws his thumb across his lower lip. “Same. See you Friday, Cass.”

The sound of my name on his lips nearly buckles my knees again, and I only manage to make it to the door with Brie steering me by the shoulders like she’s pushing a boulder up a hill.