I ease my lips to his, as if he’ll break if I’m not careful. He tenses, but those lips stay soft, tender. He’s on alert, but he’s letting me in. He tilts his head and kisses me with such reverence, like he’s confessing he’s scared. He’s begging me not to hurt him. My heart aches. I press my palm into his chest and deepen the kiss.

Chapter Eleven

Jessie

“Really? You like the pink one? But it’s so girly,” I tell Becs from the other side of the dressing room, my inner tomboy revolting.

She laughs. “I am a girl.”

“No, you are a stunning young woman who needs to embrace colors outside the pastel family.”

She laughs again, a light, easy sound. I wonder if that’s what Devin’s laugh sounds like. I’d love to hear it. See him lighten up for half a second. Despite what he seems to think, the world wouldn’t crumble at the sight of Devin Bennett enjoying himself.

“Fine,” she grumbles. “I’ll try the green one.” She reaches her arm out of the dressing room and I slap the green top into her outstretched fingers. “You’re spending too much time with Devin. He’s turning you into a control freak too.”

A familiar tingle rushes across my body. Devin hasn’t rubbed off on me as much as I’d like him to. No need to tell his sister that, though.

“I’m pushing you to become your best self, BB.” I snicker. “Just like that sexy, grumbling big brother of yours.”

She groans just like Devin. It’s adorable. “I know he means well, but seriously, it’s my life.”

“Oh, I get it. I have three brothers.”

Becs pops her head out of the dressing room. “Three?” she squeals.

I nod. “Jared, Jake and Jamie. Or the trio of terror, as I like to call them.”

She ducks her head back in the dressing room. “Oh my God. Just one drives me crazy. How do you deal with three?”

“You get good at being sneaky. They don’t need to know everything.”

“What about your dad?” she asks, her words muffled as she either takes something off or puts something on.

“Oh, my dad is a pushover. My mom too. What about your parents?”

“Rob and Mandy are cool. They have rules and stuff, but they’re not control freaks like Dev.”

I twirl the strap of the dress I’m holding, debating how to ask what I want to know. “And your biological parents?”

“They’re not in the picture at all,” she answers without a twinge of emotion. “My mom ran off when I was only like six or seven and Dad ended up in prison on his third strike a couple years after that.”

“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.” I toss the dress to the side and stare up at the ceiling, kicking myself.

“It’s not a big deal. Not for me, at least. Devin’s always been there. He tried so hard to take care of me, but there’s no way the state was going to give an eighteen-year-old full custody of a minor.” The words roll off her tongue like she’s answered all these questions before and it’s old news. Still, my heart breaks for her a bit. I wish I was as strong as Becs Bennett.