Cards of Love: The Devil (Devil's Playground #1)(4)

I pick at a loose string on my t-shirt. “Well, if I threw it out and started over, all my time and effort would have been for nothing. And if I made a new bowl of popcorn, I’d have to go through the whole monotonous process of waiting and listening for the kernels to pop at just the right time…something I already screwed up once tonight.” I chew on my thumbnail. “Two things I hate are wasting my time and having to do something over again because I didn’t do it right to begin with.”

He runs his hand over his chin, looking bemused but not saying a word.

“What?” I prompt after another moment passes.

“Nothing.” When I give him a look, he says, “We’re a lot alike is all.” Another long sigh. “I don’t like the thought of wasting my time or starting over again, either.”

“I guess that’s why you’ve been so on edge about the election.” I clamp a hand over my mouth when I realize I said that aloud. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His hand accidentally grazes my foot when he rests it on his knee and my breath steals. “One of my favorite qualities about you is how blunt and honest you are.”

My lips twitch. “Wow, would you look at that—a politician who admires honesty.”

The rumble in his chest makes my heart take flight only to dive right into the pit of my stomach a second later when he grabs my foot playfully and gives it a squeeze. “Smart ass.”

I swallow the ball of nerves lodged in my throat when he places my foot in his lap and looks at me. “David says you’re making progress.”

I nod. I hate when he brings up my therapy. It only reminds me how messed up I am and how there’s virtually no chance of us ever being together.

It also reminds me that our time is coming to an end. I’m not an idiot. I know Cain only insisted I start intensive therapy to deal with my agoraphobia and other issues after my mother’s death because he wants me out of his life when I turn eighteen.

Can’t say I blame him. Who in their right mind would want to keep taking care of a headache they didn’t create? Cain’s already done more for me than my biological mother ever did.

And while I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go outside without feeling anxious about people gossiping and saying horrible things behind my back…I finally have hope that one day I’ll be normal.

Still doesn’t change the fact that I’m absolutely petrified Cain is going to set me loose soon. No matter how much he deserves to live his own life.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He gives me the same look I gave him earlier and I cave. “I’ll be eighteen in three weeks.”

I watch his Adam’s apple bob. “I know.” His pinched expression tells me he’s been thinking about it as much as I have.

My stomach knots. I can practically hear the clock ticking. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

I go to get up, but he places my other foot on his lap and rests his forearm on top of my ankles, locking me in place. “What’s going on with you?” I open my mouth, but he growls, “Don’t tell me nothing.”

Tears prickle my eyes. I have no idea how to say this without sounding like a desperate nutcase, but I’m so scared I’ll take the risk.

“I’m not ready to leave yet. I need more time.” I meet his eyes. “I know it’s a lot to ask. I know it’s not fair to you. I know I’m leftovers—”

“Leftovers?” He looks at me like I’ve sprouted another head. “Eden, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Aren’t you kicking me out when I turn eighteen?”

“No.”

I look at him skeptically. “You sure?”

He chuckles. “I’m pretty damn positive.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “Oh.” Half of me feels like a fool…and the other half is grateful nothing’s changing. “Thanks.”

“Not exactly sure why you’re thanking me, but you’re welcome.” He gives his head a shake. “I should probably let you get back to whatever it was you were doing.”

He starts to get up, but a red mark on his collar catches my eye and my stomach rolls with a violent lurch. “Where were you tonight?”

I’m not stupid, I know Cain’s had sex with other women after my mom died. Heck, I’m almost positive he was having sex with other women before she died given the two had absolutely zero chemistry.

I’ve just never been confronted with the evidence like this before.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

He’s right, it isn’t…but my heart didn’t get the memo. It was bad enough I had to witness him with my mother—I don’t think I can handle the thought of him being involved with someone else.

If I had it my way, I’d be the dirty little secret he takes to his bed every night instead of his doting little stepdaughter.

If I had it my way, I’d be the one fulfilling every single want and need of his so he’d never have to look elsewhere.

If I had it my way, Cain would feel for me a fraction of what I feel for him.

But Cain’s never seen me that way and I don’t think he ever will.

His morals and ethics won’t let him.