The Devil Wears Black(78)

“I wanted us to be a thing,” I said. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks, falling on the bare skin of my thighs. I didn’t know why I was so upset. “You’re perfect, Ethan.”

“Please don’t say that. It’s what all my girlfriends said in high school.” He sighed tiredly. “Perfect is boring.”

I shook my head, pressing my knuckles to the sides of my eyes, drying the tears. “No, it’s not. But perfect and broken do not coexist. Broken needs another broken to become whole. I have more issues than Vogue. I never really got over my mother’s death, and . . . and . . . I have this compulsive need to please everybody. Which is why we’re both here having this conversation.” I motioned around us with a wave of a hand.

He laughed, sitting up fully now to be next to me. Thigh to thigh. “I’ve a feeling Chase is the definition of broken.” Ethan sighed. “You’re a good match.”

I smiled sadly. “Lucky me, huh?”

“Unlucky me,” Ethan countered. I swatted his arm. He was grinning in the dark. The atmosphere was shifting into something lighter. I wanted to keep it that way.

“Hey, can I ask you a question? Kind of personal, but I always wanted to know and will never get to find out.” I nudged his knee with mine.

“Lay it on me.”

“What’s your favorite position?” I scrunched my nose. “Like . . . sexually.”

“Missionary,” he said. “Definitely missionary.”

I smiled. Damn you, Chase. The arrogant jerk never got it wrong.

Ethan tucked his hands between his legs, nudging me with one of them. “Hey, do you think things would be different if he wasn’t still in the picture?”

I mulled his question over for a few seconds. Honesty was the least I could give Ethan after everything we’d been through in our short, unconsummated relationship.

“No,” I said finally. “You’re a fully formed person, and I . . . I don’t think I ever will be. I think there’s a part of me still floating in the universe, searching for my mother.” I stopped, frowning as I realized something. “Maybe that’s why I’ve always been so obsessed with weddings. I’ve been hoping to find that something in someone else. Subconsciously. But I need to find it in myself.”

“For what it’s worth”—his lips found my temple, hovering over it as he spoke—“you are the best half person I’ve ever met, Maddie Goldbloom. Imperfections and all.”



By the time I left Ethan’s bedroom, dawn was breaking over the horizon. The dark morphed from velvet into powder blue through the high windows. I stumbled out to the hallway, heading for the kitchen to get a glass of water. My mind was still buzzing with the realization I needed to find my missing piece in myself.

I was almost at the end of the hallway when Chase came out of his room. He wore gray sweatpants and those Kanye West–type sneakers that looked like expensive spaceships. He was bare chested and ready for an outside jog. His hair was a mess, his eyes bloodshot, though I was getting used to Exhausted Chase. It was somehow even sexier than Regular Chase.

Our gazes tangled in the unlit hallway.

His eyes dragged to Ethan’s door, then back to mine. He popped an eyebrow in question. I shook my head. A barely visible gesture.

Nothing happened.

He caught it. His throat bobbed. A bubble of excitement swelled in my chest.

Beat.

Swelling.

Beat.

Swelling.

Beat.

The bubble popped when Chase pounced on me, his lips crashing down on mine with hunger that stunned me. There was nothing calculated, cold, or in control about that kiss. My back slammed against the wall with a loud thud, but I couldn’t feel anything other than his tongue invading my mouth and his hands climbing up my thighs under my chemise, tracing the outline of my panties teasingly. When he found the wet patch of fabric at the center of my panties, he groaned into our kiss, squeezing his eyes shut as if experiencing something painful.

I snaked a hand between us and did what I’d wanted to do for weeks. Ran my fingers along his rock-hard abs, fingering the coarse happy trail of hair under his belly button until I found the outline of the part of him I’d always missed and never hated.

Chase grabbed my ass and hoisted me up so my legs wrapped around his waist while I was propped against the wall. He captured my jaw, extending my neck to kiss me more deeply. No. What we were doing wasn’t kissing. He fucked my mouth ruthlessly, and I clenched against nothing, feeling my thighs locking in on his narrow waist with need.

“Bed,” I groaned into our kiss.

“Not gonna try to talk you out of it,” he groaned, his lips still not disconnecting from mine as he carried me back to his room and kicked the door shut. He was still kissing me when he toed his sneakers off. Then his lips dragged down my neck as he lowered me onto his bed, which was full of delicious Chase smell—of pine and rain and a dark forest where magical things happened. I felt so unexpectedly content that happy tears clung to my lashes.

“Chase,” I moaned.

His hands ran up the sides of my thighs, hitching the thin fabric of my chemise up. His fingers danced on my skin—was he shaking?—with barely restrained urgency.

“Chase,” I croaked again, desperate.

His mouth reluctantly unlatched from mine. He examined me warily. He thought I was going to stop it. To change my mind. Our hearts were slamming against one another through our chests.