The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (The Devils #2)(33)

And maybe part of the problem was I felt like I deserved Josh’s disdain. Because the truth is that on the night when I first saw him—standing on the other side of a hotel ballroom—he took my breath away. His gaze left me feeling like a bottle of champagne shaken a little too fiercely, and I knew how wrong it was, even before discovering he was the brother of the guy who’d brought me to the party.

“I’m really sorry, Drew,” he says. “It honestly had nothing to do with you.”

“It’s fine,” I reply, willing it to be true.

His mouth curves up, a hint of a lopsided grin. “And in my defense, you did refer to me that night as personality free.”

I laugh half-heartedly. “In my defense, it isn’t your strong suit.”

Enough, I tell myself. Josh has enough problems right now without me piling on at the moment. Has had them, based on the couch in his room last night, already made up for sleep.

I don’t know why I feel relieved that he slept on the couch. The idea of him undressing her, or even flirting with her, produces a tiny bitter seed in my chest that I refuse to look at too carefully.

“You and Sloane—” I venture, and then I stop, uncertain what I want to ask or how I can phrase it without sounding jealous. “Why her? I mean, she’s pretty. I’ll admit that much. But she’s just…not right for you.”

He closes his eyes. “The refugee camp is kind of like being in space. You’re so isolated, and it’s so stressful at times, and there are very few people who get what you’re going through and even fewer who speak English. Things happen.”

I give a dark laugh. “Based on all the bedding on your couch last night, I assume they didn’t keep happening.”

He winces. “No, they didn’t. My mom invited her as a surprise for me and…it just didn’t feel right when I knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. You must have thought it was pretty goddamn weird when you got to our room last night.”

I shake my head. “Nah. I already assumed you only believe in sex for procreation and would prefer to handle it all with test tubes, if possible.”

“Is that what you think?” he asks. There’s the tiniest movement of his mouth, a sly look in his eyes as they cut slowly to me. The look he’d have if he were actually thinking about sex and wanting it, and about to get it. And I know, based simply on that look and the smug confidence in his voice, that he is anything but ambivalent and clinical. That sleeping with him would be hot and indulgent and messy and perfect and he would ruin me for anyone else.

And I think I’d be better off not knowing it.

“No,” I whisper as I rise and walk away. “Not really.”





When I get back to the room, Six sets his guitar down and pats the bed beside him.

“I’m all sandy,” I reply.

He grins. “I don’t mind.”

“I do,” I tell him. “I’m the one who’ll have to sleep in it. Let’s just sit on the balcony.”

To my surprise, he rises and follows me outside. He takes the seat beside me and reaches out to grab my hand. The sun is pretty much gone in a sky rapidly turning the color of slate, where a tiny crescent moon blinks to life. “This is pretty amazing, huh?”

“Yeah. Different than Waikiki, but I like it.”

“No medical care, though,” he says, and we both laugh.

“My God, I thought your mom would never stop.”

“I didn’t want her to,” he says with a grin. “If that ride had been even a moment longer, the word savage would absolutely have been used and I’d have laughed so hard.”

I grin at him. This is who he was when we first met backstage at Glastonbury. He was cool and funny and he wasn’t trying to impress me, which I liked. We just got along. It felt natural.

“Yesterday was fun, right?” he asks.

I glance at him. Yesterday was fun…until it wasn’t. “I can’t drink like that anymore, Six. And it’s not just because of all the rumors about me. I just don’t have it in me to drink for eight hours straight.”

He picks up my right foot and places it in his lap, sinking his thumbs into the arch. It’s blissful. “It’s for the best. One of us has to grow up first, right? Who’s going to plan out all these trips for us when we’re old if we’re both still getting hammered all day long?”

I don’t know how to respond to that. A year ago, I’d have been thrilled. I’d have rushed off to text Tali, demanding she agree that Six and I had turned a corner. Now, I don’t even want to agree with it myself. I feel as if, in doing so, I’d be making him a promise I’m not sure I can keep.

The breeze picks up and it feels like a warning. A sign I should extricate myself quickly, before it’s too late. “You might want to plan these trips with someone who doesn’t tend to go missing or who you notice is missing,” I reply, softening it with a laugh. “Especially on an island where there’s no hospital.”

He swallows. “That was shitty of me last night. It wasn’t that I didn’t notice you were gone, though. I just assumed you were, like, dancing or talking to people. Sometimes I forget you’re not like me, that you’re more of an introvert. I’m gonna try to be better.”