Chapter Twelve

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  © Copyright 2012
All work is property of Leah Crichton, any duplication or reproduction of all or part of the work without explicit permission by the author is illegal.

A/N: If you want to hear the song Sawyer wakes up the neighbourhood with, be sure to check the link on the side. ---> Cheers!

Alexa ignored Thomas Edison's play for affection as she flew up the stairs and powered her computer; while she waited, tossed her suitcase on the bed. A flurry of clothing exploded from her drawers landing into the luggage as she prepared for her departure.

Her headed throbbed and her brain felt as if it were trying to show her one one thousandth of the pain Saw yer must have been through. She was about to Skype Rachel and ask to borrow her credit card to book a flight home when the doorbell rang.

Alexa inspected her reflection. She looked all the mess she felt. Her hair was flattened and lifeless from the rain, the mascara she'd applied earlier should have worn off long ago, it was approaching ten o'clock at night, but miraculously, it was still there, streaking down her face like war paint. She rubbed her eyes viciously but there was really no point. Nothing could help her appearance.

At the bottom of the stairs, Thomas Edison sat still as a statue looking at the door. Somehow, somewhere along the way, he'd forgotten he was a cat and was perched with the stiff rigidness of a guard dog waiting to serve and protect.

“Move,” she muttered to him. She peered through the peephole and even though her eyes were blurry she could make out a small, blonde figure. What was Devin doing here?

She opened the door and Devin's face revealed that Alexa indeed looked as bad as she thought.

“Oh my God,” Devin asked. “Are you alright?”

“I'm fine thanks,” Alexa said. He had some nerve, sending Devin over to do his dirty work. “Listen, if Sawyer sent you--”

Devin shook her head, her perfect blonde hair shifting wildly from side to side, sending a small spray of water with it. She wore a ripped tights and a black hoodie with what Alexa recognized as the Bach's Revenge logo but she was still soaked from the rain. “Oh no!” she exclaimed. “He has no idea that I'm here and you can't tell him. Please,” she added.

Alexa leaned into the doorframe, suddenly worn by the thought of standing on her own two feet. “How did you know where I live?”

“Oh,” Devin said. “Your Auntie told me. After lunch, I asked her where I could find you.”

Why had Gabby told Devin anything?

She was being rude keeping Devin outside. She straightened with great effort and swept her hand across the entrance. “Would you like to come in?”

“Thanks.” Devin's reply was cheerful. She clearly hadn't seen Sawyer that evening or she'd be anything but. She stepped over the threshold and whistled. “This is a cool house,” she said. “It's so retro-vintage-chic.”

Alexa had never thought of it that way, but now that Devin had mentioned it, it was very chic. Gabby decorated the home impeccably, keeping the integrity of its structure but pairing it with a look that could be featured in home design magazines. “Thanks,” she said. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No,” Devin replied. “I mean no thank you. I just came to ask you something.”

Alexa raised a brow, expecting Devin to go off on a tangent about Alexa trying to steal her man. Well guess what Devin? You can have him, she thought. “And that is?”

“Sawyer likes you,” Devin said.

“I don't think so.”

“It's true. I can tell,” Devin nodded.

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