Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
DECLAN
When we arrive at Andy's apartment, she parks in her assigned parking space and gets out without glancing at me. Nervous energy had been radiating off her from the moment I told her to take me home with her, but I ignored it because I was determined to tear down her walls one way or another.
Was it wrong of me to use Max as an excuse to go home with her? It's possible. Do I regret it? Not one fucking bit.
Following Andy's lead of getting out, I open the door to the back seat and carefully remove the sleeping child from her car seat, holding her with one arm while I use the other to grab the shopping bags, which seemed to have multiplied.
"I don't remember having this many bags," I grumble, keeping a firm hold on Max to prevent her from slipping.
Andy smirks, closing the trunk after grabbing her purse. "Pretty sure you bought out the entire festival."
I shrug. "What can I say? It was impossible to deny Max whenever she asked for something." Each time we reached a new booth, she'd look up at me with her big brown eyes, and I was putty in her hands. It was impossible not to tell her yes. I'm not sure what she's going to do with half the shit I bought, but I'm sure her imagination will find use for it .
"You could've limited the candy," she says with a grin, gesturing toward one of the bags that's filled with boxes of chocolate and other cherry-flavored goodies.
"That's your job, Mama. I get to be the fun buddy who spoils her rotten." I wink, side-stepping her and walking toward the stairs, leaving her gaping at my back.
She mutters something under her breath that sounds a lot like asshole , but I don't look back as I take the stairs two at a time, keeping the bags and Max secure in my arms.
When we reach the third floor and Andy unlocks the door, my heart is racing inside my chest, not from the physical activity but from the fact she's allowing me inside her private space for the first time in two weeks.
She's sent me pictures of the decorations she's thrifted and different areas of her apartment as she's been decorating, but seeing it all come together in person is so intimate. Like she's trusting me enough to allow me inside of her shell.
The moment I cross the threshold, the sweet, warm cherry vanilla scent fills my nostrils, and I take a moment to inhale, breathing in the smell of Andy deep into my lungs.
Fuuuuck. She always smells so damn good.
Andy turns on a couple of lamps, encasing the apartment in a warm glow before locking the door behind me. After taking the shopping bags from my hand and placing them on the kitchen table, she turns toward me, and I watch as she removes her shoes and places them on the shoe rack beside the door. Her red-painted toes dig into the light colored carpet as she scrunches them, and a smirk forms on my lips as dirty thoughts invade my mind.
Bad Declan. Now is not the time for that.
Clearing my throat, I step out of my Vans, leaving them by the door, and remain in my white socks.
"You can just put her in her room," she says, following me down the hallway as I walk toward Max's bedroom, carefully lying her down on the soft white and pink princess bedding. Andy removes Max's shoes and then pulls the blanket over her before pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Despite Max being asleep, Andy still whispers in her ear, telling her how much she loves her. Seeing them together has me mesmerized, yet I feel like it's a moment I'm intruding on, so I step out into the hall to give her some privacy.
Andy joins me in the hallway a second later, shutting the door behind her. "She'll be out for the rest of the night." All I can do is nod. My words suddenly lodged in my throat.
Usually, I always have something to say, but right now, I can't bring myself to make any smart-ass remark. Especially when Andy is standing there practically eye fucking me.
She bites her bottom lip between her teeth, fingers slowly brushing her hair behind her ears, eyes never leaving mine, "Do you want to hang out for a little bit?" she asks, nervously playing with the gold ring on her right thumb.
I've been waiting for her to invite me over, so there's no hesitation when I nod in agreement. That movement caused a shy smile to appear on her pink, plump lips, her body visibly relaxing as if asking the question and not knowing my answer had stressed her out.
"Give me the tour of your apartment now that you're unpacked," I say, shoving my hands into the front pockets of my black jeans to prevent myself from reaching for her and pulling her curvy body against mine. I've wanted to run my tongue along every curve and mark of her body since the day I laid eyes on her, and that hasn't changed.
I can look but can't touch. Never can I touch. Not when I know that my touch would taint her beautiful golden skin and leave her dirty and even further fucked up. I'm incapable of anything more than friendship. Don't deserve it either. The only thing I have left of myself to give a woman is my body. And Andy means too much to give her my body when I know what'll happen the next morning.
Andy waves her arms out. "This is the hallway." She smirks, nodding toward a closed door at the other end of the white hallway. "My room, but you already know that." She walks away, wide hips swaying with the movement. My pants tighten at the sight of her round peachy ass jiggling beneath the black biker shorts she's wearing.
Like an awestruck boy, I follow behind her, watching her as she points out everything in the apartment she's added since moving in. Her smile is vast and full of happiness as she speaks, proud of the home she's creating for herself and her daughter, but I can't focus on anything besides her.
I don't give a fuck. I don't care about the crème-colored placemats she found at the thrift store for two dollars for all four. Nor do I care about the kitchen rugs she was gifted from a neighbor who no longer liked the color. All I care about is her. I love the sparkle she gets in her brown eyes whenever she speaks about something she loves or something that excites her. But my sole focus is on her, not the objects and rooms she's showing me.
Without realizing it, I find myself standing right behind her, so close that the scent of her floral shampoo invades my scents, and the frizzy curls tickle my nose.
Not realizing how close I am because she's busy showing me the apartment, she steps back, bumping into me as she does, her bare foot stepping on mine. Turning to face me, she looks at me with a slight grin. "Sorry. Didn't mean to step on you."
She must notice the look in my eyes because the grin quickly fades from her face, her eyes widening as she stares back. All humor is now long gone. Looking at her, I can tell there's only one thing on her mind.
"Declan. Why are you looking at me like that?" she whispers, her throat moving as she swallows.
I step toward her until her back is against the fridge, and there's nowhere else for her to go. My pants strain against my dick, but I fight the urge to pull down my zipper and relieve some of the pressure.
"I'm trying to be a good man," I rasp, jaw tight as I fight the urge to show her exactly what I've been fantasizing about doing to her. "You're making it really fucking hard."
Her lips part, eyes rapidly blinking. "How am I making it hard for you to be a good man?"
"Because you are so fucking tempting." Pulling my hands out of my pockets, I place them on the stainless steel fridge beside her head, caging her in, my forehead resting against hers as I allow myself a few seconds of breathing in her sweet scent.
"So fucking tempting, Andy, and you don't even know it."
"How am I tempting you, Declan?" she asks innocently, playing with fire.
"All I've wanted to do since the moment I laid eyes on you is tear you apart. I want to force your tight little pussy down on my aching cock, and keep you there until I spell my name on your walls with my cum." She gasps, goosebumps spreading across her flushed skin. "You have no idea how badly I want to drown in your juices. Bend you over every surface in this goddamn apartment and fuck you until your mascara is running down that beautiful face, and you're begging me to stop." She stills, and I'm sure she stops breathing.
"The things I want to do to you, I have no right thinking. You have no idea how depraved I can be. How badly I want to ruin you and carve my name into your ass so the next man who bends you over will be forced to see it." I press my body flush against hers, allowing her to feel the hard length straining in my jeans as I push it against her.
"But I'm trying to be a good man, so I can't do any of that. No matter how fucking badly I want to."
Her breathing quickens, and I'm willing to bet if I were to slip my hands inside her panties, she'd soak my fingers with her wetness.
"Why not?" she asks, her voice breathy and higher than usual.
"Because you deserve more than a dirty fuck from a man who doesn't know how to be gentle. Or how to care for you afterward." I hate that I have to admit it to her. So fucking bad I wish I could be the type of man she deserves. But she deserves someone who can commit to her and doesn't come with a semi-truck full of baggage.
I'm an addict with five weeks of sobriety who is trying like hell every day to fight the urges, but it's hard as fuck. The only thing that has kept my mind off walking into the bar and downing a bottle of vodka or finding a dealer and snorting a bag of cocaine is the woman in front of me and the little girl sleeping down the hall. The promise of getting to see them has been helping me through this time, helping me fight the late-night urges when I'm unable to sleep.
"Go on a date with me," she blurts out, brown eyes widening in surprise as if she hadn't meant to say that out loud.
Smirking, I pull my head back from her forehead to see her stunning face better. "Andy, did you just ask me on a date?"
Straightening her spine, she nods. "I did." She breathes, minty breath fanning my lips, "Go on a date with me. Give us a chance to get to know each other properly."
This is a disaster waiting to happen, and I should say no, but when I open my mouth, I cannot form the words no. Instead, I agree.
"Next week? Choose when and where. I'm going to Vegas Monday to meet with my band to get started on the new songs I've written."
"Friday night? I'll leave Max with the sitter and take you to Mesquite. It's a town bigger than this, about thirty minutes away."
"Friday night," I confirm, pressing a kiss against her forehead, my lips lingering against her soft skin. "I should go before we do something we can't return from."
She nods, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth long enough for me to groan, then lets it go. "You should. Will we see you tomorrow?" There's hopefulness in her tone, and internally, I cringe. Tomorrow is Sunday when we normally have breakfast and go to the park, but I have to get ready for meeting with the boys Monday.
"Sorry, baby, not this week. I'll see you Monday before I leave, and I'll be all yours Friday." A few days ago, Benny called me and said he wanted me to meet up with Adam, Damon, and Cole and play them the songs I've been working on. Since sending Adam the first two I came up with, I’ve written four more over the past two weeks. And now it's my chance to see my friends again and play them the songs I've been working on.
I've been nervous as fuck about it because I know what comes along with new music. Touring. And that's where it gets tricky, because I don't believe I'm strong enough to tour right now. I'm taking it slow. The first step is to return to the studio, which I've been dying to do. My sanity needs to get behind a piano's keys and feel the guitar's strings.
My fingers twitch with the anticipation of being with my brothers again, doing what we love to do.
Music will heal me. It's what I need right now.
"Please stop in on Monday and say bye," she asks, arms firmly against her side. "How long will you be gone?"
"Probably a few days. I'll be staying with Adam, so don't worry about me. It'll be good." Concern flashes in her eyes, and I feel she doesn't believe I'll be coming back.
"I'll be back in time for our date." She nods, but the look in her eyes doesn't fade. People may have let her down in the past, but I can only promise I'll return. Which I will. There's no way in hell I will ghost her when she's finally willing to give me a chance.
Pushing off the fridge and stepping away, I fix her with a smirk.
"Goodnight, Mama. Dream of me."