“Wait,” he said, confused. “Aren’t you guys still dating?”

“Uh…technically,” she whispered.  “I did just leave.”

“No, leaving means that you guys are done.”

Huh.  She had never thought about it that way.  When she had left, she hadn’t really thought of anything.  But it made sense to her.  Leaving him, even if she hadn’t told him what was going on, had made her see that it was over.  Still, she hadn’t told him though.

“I didn’t tell him,” she finally admitted.

“But isn’t he looking for you?”

Devon shook her head, ashamed.  “My parents talked about going on this trip to Paris for months.  I told him about it, but we never thought it would actually happen.  My parents are just spontaneous enough that when I told him they decided to go last minute, he believed me,” she said, looking up at Garrett.  “Otherwise, he wouldn’t have let me leave, or he would’ve freaked out and tried to find me.  I didn’t want to be found.”

“So, he thinks you’re in Paris for the summer?”

Devon nodded.

“And you’ve gotten away with that for this long?”

“I told my parents I was staying in St. Louis for the summer to be with him.  I shut off my Facebook and Twitter accounts.  I haven’t answered emails—”

“That’s why you didn’t want your picture to be taken,” he said, piecing it together.

“Yeah, I didn’t know if they might show up online or something.”

“When you go back to St. Louis and he finds out that you weren’t in Paris, what do you think he’s going to do?” Garrett asked quietly.

They both knew the answer to that question.

Garrett moved away and poured another shot, and Devon tossed it back.  As soon as it hit her stomach, she knew it was one too many.  Maybe the one before had been too many.  She didn’t know.  Her head was spinning, and she couldn’t feel her legs.  That made her giggle despite the terrible thought that had just crossed their minds.  Her lips felt heavy, her eyes felt heavy, everything felt heavy.  She sat back against Garrett.  She was glad he was holding her.  Otherwise, she thought she might topple over.

Just as suddenly as the giggle left her mouth, she clamped it shut, and tears streamed down her face.  She was royally fucked.  She pitched forward and threw her arms around Garrett, hugging her body close to his.  His arms dropped to her lower back, pulling her flush against him.  Her tears were falling on his shoulder, and she felt too weak and vulnerable and drunk to do anything about it.

Garrett ran one hand through her hair while the other rubbed up and down her back slowly.  She hiccupped and then sighed into his embrace.  She wanted to just wash away all the pain and all her memories of Reid.  She wanted to make it so it had never happened.

“Hey.”  Garrett slid his hand up her side to her cheek and his other hand met the opposite side to cradle her face in his hands.

When she looked up into his eyes as he held her, the tears came streaming down heavier.  He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and then trailed his fingers along her jawline.

His lips fell lightly on her cheek, gently kissing away the tears.  Closing her eyes, she found the more he tried to comfort her, the more tears continued to fall.  His mouth moved to her other cheek, and he erased the tears from the path they had formed.  He trailed kisses down to her jaw, and then lightly, almost hesitantly, his lips moved to the corner of her mouth.  As she sat very still, Devon felt her breathing pick up.

Then, his lips found hers.  He tasted like scotch.  The kisses started out slow as Garrett willed a response from her.  He threaded his fingers back up into her hair, pressing himself against her.  He slid his tongue across her lip, and Devon gasped in surprise.  He moved his tongue into her mouth, pushing them closer and closer together.

Then, everything seemed to happen at once.  Garrett was leaning her back into the couch.  His body moved over her, and she could feel his hips press into her.  His hand grazed her breast through her nightshirt.  His other hand was still tangled into her hair.  His kisses turned desperate and demanding.  Devon couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.  He ignored her unresponsive lips and fumbled with her clothing, pushing as much of it out of the way as he could.

She felt her body sink further and further into the couch as if she were disappearing.  She was sure that she would surface on the other side and find this all to be another dream.

His lips traveled to her neck and collarbone, reaching as much space as he could.  Devon had the terrible sense of enjoying herself.  It had been months since anyone had wanted this from her.  She was only human, and her body betrayed her by reacting favorably to him.

The alcohol coursed through her veins, telling her to just enjoy it.  Her mind didn’t have a response.  Had she shut herself off this much?  It felt so nice to be wanted, to be kissed.  She hadn’t been kissed in so long.

Then, her mind did respond.  Brennan.  Brennan had kissed her last, and she had pushed him away because she had a boyfriend.  She had thought then that she had a boyfriend, but in reality, she had walked out on Reid.  She had pushed Brennan away for nothing, and Brennan was worth more than this.

When she felt Garrett’s hand sliding down her shorts, she yelled, “Stop!  Stop!  I…I can’t do this!”

Devon pushed and shoved him away from her.  She fell hard on the ground onto her knees, jarring her body and snapping her teeth together painfully.  She grunted and crawled away from him.  Her balance was wretched, and she fell twice when she had tried to stand up.

Garrett stared at her, but she didn’t want to see his face.  She didn’t want to see whatever he was thinking.  She just needed to leave.  If running was her strength, then she would exercise her strength a second time.  She couldn’t stand the thought of staying in the same apartment as Garrett one more night.  How could he try and take advantage of her after she had just trusted him with something she had never told anyone before, especially after what she had told him?

Devon wasn’t going to wait around long enough to find out.  She stumbled into her room and threw on a pair of jeans and her sneakers.  Garrett tried to talk to her, but she pretended not to hear him.  She couldn’t deal with this on top of everything else.  She couldn’t even deal with her own problems.

DEVON WALKED BLINDLY down the streets.  She didn’t know where she was going or what direction she was even walking in.  It was dangerous to walk alone at night through Chicago.  It was a really bad idea.  Then again, so was dating her boyfriend for three years, lying to her parents, pushing Brennan away, and getting close to Garrett.  She would just add those to the list.

Devon walked until the alcohol felt less potent.  Why had she drunk so much?  Who thought that was a good idea for a depressive?  She would have giggled at her own self-realization, but it wasn’t funny.

When her feet started hurting, she stopped and looked around.  She didn’t recognize anything, and that made her even more anxious.  Where had her feet taken her?  Her eyes traveled the buildings around the area as she tried to place her location.

She had been here before.  Realizing where she was, she smiled and walked inside a building.

Standing in front of the door, she made the decision that her feet had already chosen for her.  She knocked and waited.  When nothing happened, she knocked again louder until she heard someone moving around inside.  Her head was spinning, and she didn’t know if it was because she was still drunk or if she was nervous.  It was fair to say it was likely both.

“Who is it?” a voice called.

She didn’t answer.

The door opened, and Brennan’s face peered out at her.  He left the door ajar, still latched to the wall by a chain.  “Devon?” Brennan asked, yawning.