The Heart Wants What It Wants: Devlin Series, #1

By Noah Malone

Devlin Blackthorn and Jase Morgan have been the best of friends since meeting in primary school. Now in their mid 20s, everything is smooth sailing for them... until Devlin realises he is in love with his heterosexual best friend. Things turn chaotic when the beautiful Jordan McMahon enters the picture and wins the heart of Jase. Can their friendship withstand the ultimate challenge of love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Noah Malone
• Release date: Feb 4, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524213671

Book preview

Prologue

Devlin Blackthorn

Early 2001...

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I always hated the awkward formalities of passing on to a new grade in primary school: you had to be divided into new classes; your new teacher would go over things you’ve heard about a million times before; you’d have to be sat in girl-boy-girl-boy order as if that was a reasonable punishment for friendly chatter; and the new kids that started the year off would have to introduce themselves in front of their new peers, as if coming to a new school wasn’t humiliating enough.

Being in sixth grade – and my final year at Velvet Springs Public School – I was hoping this would be the last boring introduction speech I would have to hear. Ever.

And we have a new boy joining us from Melbourne, in Victoria! Mrs. Palmer said excitedly, like the rest of us didn’t know which state Melbourne was in.

From behind the shadows appeared a tall, lean boy with a natural tanned complexion and an interesting caramel-coloured mop of hair that complimented his skin tone. Contrary to the other deathly awkward introductions I was used to, this boy stood up confidently in front of us and waved his hand.

Hello, I’m Jase, he said, his voice surprisingly deep for a 12-year-old boy.

Welcome to Velvet Springs Public, Jase, Mrs. Palmer squealed in delight. Can we all give Jase a Velvet welcome?

Welcome to Velvet Spriiiings, Jase, we all sung in boring, monotone unison.

We have a girl-boy system here, explained Mrs. Palmer, but seeing as we have a gender imbalance in this class, you can take the seat next to Devlin Blackthorn in the back corner there. She effortlessly gestured in my direction and Jase’s gaze immediately pierced me; he politely smiled at me and walked to the back of the classroom as a couple of the girls turned to watch him.

He took the seat next to me and held his hand out to me.

Nice to meet you, Devlin, he said.

Despite thinking it was an odd thing to do, I took his hand and shook it.

Nice to meet you too, Jase.

I turned back to face the front as Mrs. Palmer began her boring welcome-to-the-new-year speech and completely zoned her out. This would usually take about half an hour, but with someone as chatty as Mrs. Palmer, it would usually take up until recess, and...

DING DING DING!

Like clockwork, Mrs. Palmer apologised for dragging her speech out and stepped aside as a few of the kids ran out of the classroom with their colourful backpacks slung over their shoulders. Having not unpacked a single thing from my bag, I placed the straps over my shoulders and began to walk out, eager to catch up with some friends who had been placed in other classes.

Hey Devlin, Jase’s voice rang from behind me, wait up.

I looked over my shoulder at the new boy chasing to catch up with me.

Could I sit with you? I haven’t really met anyone else.

Sure, I said with a smile.

Jase accompanied me onto the oval where a bunch of other boys and girls from sixth grade sat. The girls usually formed a circle and sat down, talking about the latest music videos they watched on the weekend, while the boys opted to toss a ball around.

Hey Devlin!

A ball soared through the sky towards me and I caught it with relative ease. I placed my bag on the ground and Jase quickly followed suit.

Hey guys, I’m Jase, he introduced himself.

He walked around and shook the hands of all the boys while I stood there and wondered what on earth they put in the water down in Melbourne.

Hey Jase – catch!

I passed the rugby ball to him over my shoulder, much like an American footballer, and Jase quickly caught it.

Good throw! he said.

I know, I know, I said, pretending to wave to all of my adoring fans.

Unlike the other boys who didn’t entertain my borderline narcissistic sense of humour, Jase laughed and flashed me a thumbs up. I smiled; I had a feeling that Jase and I were going to be the best of friends.

Chapter 1

Jase Morgan

Early 2014...

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I was in a state of total euphoria. I was at peace. Silence filled the room. Quiet. You could hear a pin drop. The warmth surrounding my body was heavenly. I was lying on a bed of clouds. Pure comfort. A restful coma.

SQUAAWWWK, SQUAAWWWK, SQUAAWWWK, SQUAAWWWK!

No. Not now. Please not now.

I always found it hard to get up in the morning after a night out and today was no different. My crow-like alarm had been singing for the past minute and I was unsuccessful in every attempt at swatting for the painful device to shut up.

It didn't matter though. My emergency backup was due in approximately 5... 4... 3... 2...

Jase! Shut that thing up!

If I had the energy to smile, I probably would have; the only person my intentionally-annoying alarm irritated more than me was my roommate and best friend, Devlin.

I groaned out loud and rolled over onto my side, keeping my eyes shut tight. My hand reached around and I finally managed to locate my phone. With a swipe of my thumb, I shut the alarm off before my ears started to ring.

Devlin's footsteps trampled down the hallway and soon I heard him tapping his bare foot against the wooden linoleum at my doorway. I willed my eyes open and saw him standing there with his arms folded tightly across his chest, a black sleeping mask pushed up onto the top of his head. His dark hair was in unruly tangles and one of his jade green eyes was showing while he kept his other eye shut to shield the light.

How many times have I told you to change that stupid alarm? he said, frustrated.

That's the whole point of the alarm, Dev, I replied nonchalantly, it's so annoying that you have no choice but to wake up and switch it off.

Devlin rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue before twirling away and disappearing from my doorway. Fearing that any more delay would cement me in my comfortable position, I swung my legs over the side of my bed and stood up. My head was feeling the effects of last night and it took me a second to regather myself; I was always against the idea of partying on a Sunday night but I couldn't turn down the company of four lovely ladies.

The smell of Devlin's air sanitiser machine invaded my sense of smell as soon as I entered the kitchen and I couldn't help but grimace at the scent. I stood against the kitchen counter with my hand on my nose as he reappeared from his bedroom in a pair of tight black jeans and a white V-neck tee.

Coffee please, I mumbled.

The coffee machine's right there, he said as he pulled his fly up, you're completely capable of making your own early morning beverage.

Knowing full well that the mechanics of our coffee machine confused me, Devlin laughed and brushed past me so he could put on a pot. I was semi-conscious of my morning wood pitching a tent in my cotton boxers but I didn't mind, even if my best friend was gay.

Devlin put two pieces of bread into the toaster and pulled out a tub of margarine and a jar of jam from the fridge. I sat down on top of the counter and watched him as he busied himself around the kitchen.

One day I am going to wake up and find breakfast already made for me, he said.

And one day I'm going to wake up married to Angelina Jolie, I replied.

A used tea towel to the face was Devlin's final retort to my joke. I pulled it away from my face and chuckled as he began buttering the toast and pouring the coffee into two separate mugs. He cut both toast slices in half and pushed the plate over to me.

Toast with butter and jam sliced in half, just how you like it, he said with fake sincerity before he took a sip from his mug.

He disappeared back into his bedroom before I could thank him, so I took that as an opportunity to down my mug of coffee. I worked as a personal trainer at the local gym from eight to four so I needed my caffeine fix. While I was good at my job and I enjoyed keeping fit, it wasn't something I saw myself happily working in for the rest of my life. To me, it was just a means of keeping a steady flow of income.

After downing my breakfast in record time, I slipped into a thin black cotton shirt and a pair of black running shorts and put on my favourite pair of black runners that Devlin had bought me for my previous birthday and took a look in the mirror.

Despite having free access to the local gym, I occasionally went on runs in the middle of the night to keep fit, so I could safely say that I was in good shape. Devlin liked to say that I had ants in my pants as I couldn't seem to remain in the same place for long, so running was more of an indulgence than it was an exercise.

My bedroom floor was covered in shirts, sweatpants and even a couple of women's bras were scattered amongst my things. My beloved acoustic guitar sat against the wall, overlooking this organised mess.

I knew my keys had to be here somewhere. I made a mental note to buy a key hook, knowing full well that I wouldn't keep that promise anyway.

Dev, have you seen my keys? I called out to him.

Surely enough, Devlin popped his head around with a necktie casually dangling out of his mouth. He looked down at the pile of clothes scattered across my bedroom floor and rolled his eyes. He pulled the tie out of his mouth and scowled at me.

Have you even looked?

You know me too well, I said sheepishly.

I recalled the last memory I had of throwing my keys onto the floor and began searching underneath a pile of my sweatshirts. Meanwhile, Devlin had picked up a pink lacy bra that was sitting next to my bed and examined it with disgust.

Lisa?

Nah, can't even remember, I replied casually.

You're a pig, he said.

An adorable pig?

Devlin laughed and pointed down next to my feet where my keys were glistening. I snatched them off the floor and mumbled my thanks to him.

Do you have time for a quick lunch today? I asked him as I grabbed my helmet from the coat rack next to the front door of our apartment.

Depends on if it's a slow news day or not, he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

Devlin was a sports reporter for the local newspaper and so his hours were often as jumbled as the list of women's names in my head. My best friend was very passionate about his sports, so I knew he was definitely on the right career path, but he was definitely bigger than reporting on local children’s sporting results.

I'm sure I could fit you in somewhere, he said with a smile.

As much as I enjoyed the company of a beautiful, young woman every now and then, I could only stand an actual conversation with a few people in this world, Devlin being one of them. The women in Velvet Springs were mostly very materialistic and superficial and it pained me to listen to their high-pitched voices prattle on about the latest sales at the shopping centre.

Message you later, I said on my way out.

Being the best of friends since we were 12, rumours of us being together were the talk of the town when Devlin came out at 16. The rumours had never bothered me but it had a different effect on Devlin at the time. It had driven a wedge between us for a bit and I didn't understand why, nor do I completely understand why today. I didn't feel the need to justify my friendship with him to anyone else; Devlin and I were close friends. End of story.

Exiting my apartment building, the fresh morning hit me like a slap in the face. Despite this, my body never felt the cold when I laid eyes on my red sportster motorcycle named Buster; the thrill of riding always got me excited. It didn't hurt that I had finally finished off my payments on it a month ago, meaning that Buster was officially mine.

He stood proudly next to Devlin's little red sedan which he appropriately named Red Cherry. His car had a dent on the passenger side door, and it was nearly at the end of its life, but Devlin had always defended his vehicle, stating that it had more personality than all of the girls you bring home combined. He had a point.

I put my helmet on and thrust my keys into the ignition. Buster roared to life and the familiar sound set me at ease.

The feeling of the wind rushing against my skin was one of my favourite feelings in the world, the genuine thrill of being a rider. The adrenaline I felt when driving Buster was almost indescribable; it was like the feeling of riding a rollercoaster with no control of the where and how, you just knew that you were going to get there. And you were going to have fun doing it.

I had an irrational hatred of driving cars, so it was by process of elimination that I found myself riding bikes from the moment I was legally allowed to drive a vehicle. I know most people feared the unpredictability and lack of safety when it came to motorcycles, but in my eyes, cars presented a similar danger, if not more. Devlin, at least, understood where I was coming from...

I swerved through the quiet morning streets of Velvet Springs and Buster came to a stop in the gym parking lot next to the cars belonging to the other personal trainers. My boss Wendy was fully aware of my ambitions to leave her gym and she continued to offer me more incentives to stay.

Prince Charming, Wendy called out from the front doors when I pulled my helmet off my head.

I grinned and nodded my head at her in greeting; Wendy was the only one who could call me that, and get away with it. She forced the front doors open to the gym and I followed her in, sighing as I stretched my arms over my head. Monday mornings were always busy and I loved it.

Not even two minutes had past and a flock of young blokes had rushed in to stare at themselves in the mirror. I glanced down at my wristwatch and awaited my 8:05 appointment with Sarah Porter, an eager 18-year-old who had a giant crush on me and was not scared to say so.

Morning Jase!

I almost cringed when I heard her high-pitched greeting. I turned around and noticed that today Sarah had thought it appropriate to wear a black push-up bra with a see-through white tank top over it, no doubt on purpose.

Good morning Sarah, are you ready to work up a sweat?

Bad choice of words.

Sarah giggled and winked at me before planting her stuff in a locker nearby.

Let's begin with a warm-up on the bikes, I said.

Halfway through the session, Sarah had insisted that she had a cramp in her left thigh and asked if I wanted to rub it for her. I politely declined her offer and called out for Wendy to help her instead, which didn't please my client in the slightest.

I'll see you again this time Friday, I said to Sarah with a half-smile as she walked over to her locker, visibly frustrated.

I stood against the reception desk where Chuck from sales was sitting with a big grin on his face.

What's going on Chucky? I asked him.

You have so much power over that poor naïve girl, it's painful to watch sometimes, he replied.

Hey, I said, raising my hands in the air, she wants to spend $60 every Monday and Friday morning on me. I didn't ask for this.

You never do, Chuck mumbled.

I took the break in between clients to pump some iron of my own so I sat down in the weights section and started to do some bicep curls, counting each rep out loud to motivate myself.

Exercise and working out had come natural to me. I had played rugby league ever since I was 6-years-old and ran track in high school so keeping fit was just a lifestyle. Not only did it make me feel physically good, it also gave me time to think and reflect, both of which I thoroughly enjoyed.

Ease up on the steel, Prince Charming, I don't want you injuring yourself before your next client, Wendy said as she walked past me.

Wendy had a habit of interrupting my thought process and sometimes I wondered as if she did it on purpose. Over the year, she had become something of a mother figure to me and I appreciated everything she had done for me.

I put the weights back down and stretched my arms, eager to get this day over and done with.

After my fourth client for the day, it was officially my lunch break hour. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and tapped on Devlin's name. After a few rings, his snappy What! greeted me.

Lunch? I feel like Mexican.

I have a transcription to write down. Can we make this quick?

Classic Devlin, probably the bluntest tool in the shed.

Sure, I'll meet you at Pablo's in 5.

Actually, he said before pausing, could you swing by and grab me from Waterloo Oval? Red Cherry wouldn't start this morning and I had to catch a taxi to work because you had already left.

I bit my tongue to suppress the laughter that was bursting to come out; I knew how much Devlin's car meant to him and didn't want to hurt his feelings.

Yeah sure, I'll be there soon.

By the time I reached Waterloo Park, Devlin had already assumed his impatient stance, standing with his arms folded and his weight shifted on one foot while he tapped the other. He spotted me and threw his arms up in the air in exasperation.

Took you long enough, he said as he settled himself on the space behind me.

He placed the magenta motorcycle helmet firmly on his head and held onto my waist. I always told girls that I had the helmet especially for them, but really it was because Devlin heavily favoured the colour pink.

Pablo's was nearly empty by the time Devlin and I walked in but their happy hour special meant that customers were going to be flocking in any time soon.

Jase, Pablo the owner greeted me with a familiar smile, shall I order the usual for you, mate? Despite being of Mexican heritage and owning a Mexican restaurant, Pablo had the thickest Australian accent I had ever heard on anyone.

Cheers mate, I said with a thumbs up.

Devlin, Pablo greeted my friend solemnly with a nod.

Pablo's had received 2.5 stars out of 5 in the Velvet Chronicle, which was the paper Devlin worked for. Ever since then, Pablo had been noticeably less friendly to him, even though he didn't write the review himself. The very thought always amused me.

Pablo forced a smile on his face and offered Devlin a glass of water which he politely accepted. Having not cottoned on to Pablo's cold-shoulder, Devlin began to examine the menu while biting the bottom corner of his lip.

You're doing that thing again, I said.

Devlin looked up at me with a confused expression on his face.

You bite your lip every time you look at a menu, I explained, or think about something in general, actually.

And you sleep with a different girl every night, what's your point?

Ouch, I said with a pretend frown on my face, can I get some cold water for that burn?

Devlin flipped me off and continued to look at the menu. He was trying not to bite his lip and it looked as if it was paining him to control his urge.

Stop watching me, he hissed, it's annoying.

Devlin had barely put his order in by the time our dishes came around. I tore into my chicken quesadilla as if I had never seen food before while Devlin poked at his nachos with a plastic fork and knife.

What's wrong? I said in between mouthfuls of chicken.

That half masticated animal in your mouth for one, he replied.

Devlin had been a vegetarian ever since I could remember and because of that, I was either forced to eat vegetarian dishes with him or cook for myself. As the former was heavily preferred knowing my complete lack of culinary skills, eating a good piece of chicken was a delicacy.

Want help? I asked, wiping the remnants of sauce from my mouth.

You can have them if you want, he said, pushing his plate over to me, I think I'll just grab something from a vending machine.

Pablo had heard Devlin's comment and I saw him roll his eyes.

Where do you need me to take you after? I asked him.

Oh, no need. Andy's going to come get me and take me back to the office.

Andrew Morrison was Devlin's steady boyfriend of about six months and the couple tried to spend every spare moment they had with each other. I couldn't quite put my finger on it but there was something off about Andrew. I didn't hate him; I just wasn't his biggest fan.

Why do you always get that sour face every time I mention Andy? Devlin asked me, snapping me out of my trance.

I don't get a sour face, I replied, I just thought of something and didn't really pay attention to what you said.

Devlin tossed a coaster at me which missed and landed on the table behind me.

How could you harm this face? I said, pouting my lips.

The door swung open and I looked up to see Jordan McMahon walk in, a pair of dark sunglasses perched on top of her head, pushing her long jet black hair back. My eyes must've fallen wide open because Devlin looked over his shoulder and let out a loud laugh.

She's not even that pretty, he said, rolling his eyes.

At that precise moment, Jordan looked around and saw me and her eyes lit up.

Jase! How are you? she called out.

Jordan McMahon was the very picture of feminine perfection: she was lean and petite and had a natural glow to her that made others around her stand in awe, and a smile that would bring the strongest man onto his knees. She was new to town and had come to take care of her aging grandfather. She was stunning, and all the men in Velvet Springs thought so too. Jordan was the type of girl to make me rethink my strategy of bedding all the women in town and settle down with her, just her.

I'm good, how are you? I stood up from my chair as she approached us.

I'm excellent, she said with a sweet smile.

She looked down at Devlin who was busy fussing around with his phone, or at least pretending to fuss around with it.

Hi Devlin, she greeted him.

Devlin looked up at her and flashed the most fake smile I had ever seen; apparently it had gone past Jordan who placed her hand on his shoulder in a friendly gesture.

Should a fit personal trainer like you be eating Mexican for lunch, Jase? she playfully asked, turning her attention to me.

Nothing wrong with a bit of protein in the middle of the day, I said with a wink.

Women never made me nervous before, but Jordan had this power over me that stunned me right to my core. This effect she had over me was almost electric; Devlin had explained it was sparks, although denied that I would feel it over her.

Jordan covered her mouth as she giggled. She reached out and touched me gently on my forearm, sending shivers all through my body. Or electric volts,