Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
DECLAN
Only one thing has been on my mind all day.
My date with Andy.
It feels weird as fuck to be going on a date at thirty-one. It’s my first date since I was twenty-three.
The last time I went on a date, I had a child and was married soon after. Although, I don't think Cam and I actually had a first date. Unless you count hooking up backstage, and then her joining me on tour as a date. But I've never asked a woman on a date before, nor have I put effort into it.
Andy is the one who asked me out, but I'm still counting it.
I woke up in Vegas this morning, thrilled to return to Loganville today. It's ironic, considering how excited I'd been about seeing my friends and going to Vegas, only to get there and find myself missing a small, middle-of-nowhere town.
It wasn't the town I missed. The two brown-eyed girls who made my days brighter were who I missed.
Texting isn’t enough for me anymore. I need more of Andy. Need her presence around me and her scent infiltrating my senses. I'm not sure what shifted between us, but somehow, during our week apart and getting to know her better each day over text, I found my cold, dead heart thawing for the woman .
I want to be a better man for her. The type of man that she deserves.
Sure, I'd been tempted to drink over the week, but each time I thought about picking up the bottle, I saw Andy's face and realized that I didn't want to let another person in my life down. I don't want to let her down. Haven't I let enough people down?
No one expects anything good from me. Everyone knows I'm a fuck-up and expects the worst. I'm tired of giving them the worst. That's not the type of man I want to be anymore.
David, my personal driver, drove me back to my hotel in Loganville this afternoon, and once I arrived, I began getting ready for my date.
This morning, after breakfast, Cole had asked what I planned to wear and told me to dress nice. Apparently, ripped jeans and a T-shirt weren't the best outfits for a first date, so we did a quick morning shopping trip.
After my shower, I dressed in the new outfit Cole helped me pick. A pair of black dress pants, a white dress shirt, and a well-fitted black jacket.
A suit. I'm wearing a fucking suit for my date.
Jesus.
I wait outside for David, my fingers twitching with the need to reach inside my pocket and grab my pack of smokes, but I've been trying to quit, and I don't want to smell like cigarettes before my date.
Andy has never said anything, but I know she hates the smell. That's become apparent based on how I've noticed her scrunching her nose each time I get in her car after smoking or whenever I step away from her and Max to light up. I can't blame her; it's a nasty habit, but it's better than what I could be doing.
I've been smoking since I was thirteen, and it's become entirely too natural to me that I often find myself craving it. Especially when I'm feeling anxious.
My last cigarette was two days ago, but I keep them in my pocket at all times, just in case.
Once David arrives at the hotel, I climb into the back of the SUV and give him directions to Andy's to pick her up, as he'll be driving us to Vegas for our date.
I thought about renting a car to drive her myself, but I decided I wanted to have my sole attention on her without paying attention to the road. Luckily, David was down to add some more hours to his paycheck.
We make one stop along the way to a local flower shop that David told me about. During one of our conversations, Andy told me that she loves roses but is not interested in having them around because they die too quickly. She'd never received flowers before but said it was okay because they'd be dead the next day.
I've never been the hearts and flowers type of man anyway, but for some reason, I want to be for her.
"You can park here. I'll be right back with her," I tell David once we arrive at Andy's apartment complex. Then, I climb out, carrying the gift I have for her that I bought while in Vegas and the bouquet of a dozen red roses mixed with baby's breath. On my back, I carry my acoustic guitar held on by a black leather strap. It’s been a while since I’ve played, but I promised Andy that I’d play her one of the new songs I’ve been working on.
Taking the steps two at a time, I reach the third floor and take a moment to calm my anxious mind as I stand outside the door.
"You got this," I mumble under my breath, needing some encouragement before I raise my fist and knock on the door.
Seconds later, the door swings open, and the sweet, sultry scent of cherry-vanilla assaults my senses, calming every worry I've had all week, putting my mind at ease, and making me feel like I'm home.
On the other side of the door stands a true fucking goddess. Andy is already a beautiful woman, but seeing her in the blue velvet dress with a slight smile on her dark-painted lips and the aura of confidence surrounding her is next level. My dick thickens at the sight, my pants becoming tight, and I refrain from tugging down the zipper to provide myself some relief.
"God damn, you are a true vision," I whisper hoarsely, my throat suddenly dry.
Andy steps to the side, allowing me to enter her apartment, the warm coziness enveloping me.
"Spin for me, mama. Let me see all of you," I request, needing to see every inch of her in that dress that has me wanting to rip it off her voluptuous body with my teeth.
Andy twirls for me with a shy smile, dark curls bouncing with the movement, eyes sparkling with giddiness.
I grab hold of the guitar strap around my body, carefully removing the instrument and set it against the wall.
"Well?" Andy waves her arms out. “Do you like it? It’s new,” she says, blushing.
I wonder if she bought the dress just so I could take it off. Bet it would look pretty nice on her bedroom floor.
Not so subtly, I reach a hand down and grab my crotch, adjusting my aching cock. This woman will be the death of me. Getting hard every two seconds was never a problem before her.
“There are no words to describe how you look.” Grinning, she gestures toward the roses in my hands. "I assume those are mine?"
I chuckle, unable to keep my eyes off her body. "They are. Just give me a minute to catch my breath. You truly look incredible."
"Do I not look incredible all the time?" Andy is gorgeous any time of the day. Messy bun, sweats, no makeup, or dressed up like she is now. She’s a knockout regardless.
"You are always beautiful, and my pants are always tight around you, no matter what you wear. Especially when you bend down in those little biker shorts you like to wear." I smirk. "The gray ones are my favorite."
"Are gray biker shorts the equivalent to men's gray sweatpants?"
I shrug. "Don't know, don't care. You're the only one who makes my dick hard from an article of clothing. They're see-through, by the way." I smirk, revealing a fact she likely wasn't aware of. "And you don't wear panties with them." The last time we took Max to the park, Andy wore a pair of little gray biker shorts. I had sat down before her, and when she bent over, I had a perfect view of her visible skin beneath the sheer fabric. The barrier of panties was nonexistent as I got an eye full of her peachy ass with the little rosebud asshole and the slit of her pussy.
I'd never been much of an anal fan before that day, but fuck, the sight made me want to eat both of her tight little holes before sticking my dick in each.
At the revelation, her face flushes red with embarrassment.
"Oh my god, you saw my asshole!" She squeals, covering her face with her hands.
"Fuck yeah, I did. Wanna know what I thought?" She shakes her head, but I give her an answer anyways. "I thought how sexy it was and if you'll come quicker when my fingers are in your pussy or your ass."
She scoffs, peeking at me through her fingers. "I'm canceling our date. I'm too embarrassed to go anywhere." I grin, walking closer to her. With my free hand, I gently pry away her hands from her face, causing her to lift her head to look at me.
Deciding to put her out of her misery, I say, "Here, mama. These are for you." I finally hand her the red roses she'd been eyeing and watch her eyes light up.
"Dec." She smiles, her shoulders relaxing. "I love them." She brings them to her nose and inhales the fresh floral scent.
Reaching inside my black jacket, I remove the gift I bought for her in Vegas. "Flowers die too quickly, I know that you're not a fan because of that, but everyone deserves to experience flowers at least once in their life." Extending my hand toward her, I present her with a red welded metal-shaped immortal rose. "This one is a rose that'll never die to remember our first date."
She gasps, taking the black stem from my hand, eyes becoming glossy as she stares at the flowers in her hands. Both real and fake.
"This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me," she whispers, eyes glossy. That's sad. This woman deserves more than being impressed by some roses.
Andy sets the flowers on the counters while she fills up a large kitchen mixing bowl with water, turning to look at me with a shrug. "Sorry, I don't have a vase." She places the real roses in the water and then disappears down the hall with the fake one. I assume she's putting it in her bedroom, and that thought makes my heart swell at the idea that something I gave her would be so special that she'd want it on display.
Returning to the living room with her purse, Andy nods toward my guitar, as if she’s just noticed it. “Did you bring that so you can play for me?” she asks, the corner of her lips curled in a grin.
Nodding, I step toward her. “I want to play you a new song I’ve been working on after dinner.”
Her face lights up at the idea of getting to hear me play for her, but she covers the excitement by making a smart-ass remark. “You’re assuming our date will go well enough for me to allow you back here in my apartment after.”
I smirk, stalking toward her until we’re standing toe to toe. “Whether you want me to stay or not, I’ll have no choice but to come back up in order to grab my guitar.”
She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t say anything else. Instead, she steps back, giving me another playful twirl. "I'm ready to go now," she declares, hands on her wide, curvy hips.
Looking at the shoe rack beside the door, I pick up a pair of wide platform heels with black straps up the ankle and hand them to her. "Put these on, mama, and let's go."
She laughs. "I can't wear those. "
I look at her in confusion. "Why? Are they not yours? They were with the other shoes here." I point, showing her where I picked them up from.
She stares at them longingly before taking the shoes from me to put them back. "They are." She sighs. "But I'm too tall to wear heels. We'd be nearly the same height in these."
"Baby, wear the damn heels." I pick them back up and hold them out toward her. "Who gives a fuck if we're the same height?" Andy is five inches shorter than me, standing at exactly six-feet tall. The heels on those shoes aren't five inches, so I'll still be taller, but it wouldn't matter to me even if I weren't.
"No, Declan. I'm too tall to wear them."
"Says who?" I demand. She shrugs.
"Fuck that. Put them on. We both know you want to." I take the shoes from her hands, dropping to one knee before her. Unlatching the strap on the right shoe, I carefully guide it on her foot, then fasten the belt around her ankle. Moving onto the other foot, I repeat the step until both shoes are placed on her feet.
Before standing, I trail my fingertips up the soft skin of her calves, slowly rising to my six-foot-five height in front of her.
"God damn," I whisper, staring into her dark eyes. "What a sight you are." My fingertips brush the loose curls from her face, and I slowly lean into her warm body, my lips placing a lingering kiss on her cheek.
I kiss from her cheek to her ear, smirking at the sharp inhale of breath she takes. "See, I'm still taller than you." I kiss the shell of her ear before pulling away, winking at the sight of her parted lips, flushed skin, and rapidly rising and falling chest.
With her hand in mine, I guide her carefully down the three flights of stairs and help her into the back of the awaiting black SUV, introducing her and David.
An hour and a half later, we're in Las Vegas at the recently opened sushi restaurant I visited with Adam, Damon, and Cole earlier this week.
Andy had planned on going to Mesquite for our date, but when she said she wanted to try sushi, I had to bring her here. I've never been to Mesquite, but we'll make that the destination for our second date.
We're seated within minutes of arriving and giving the hostess my name. We're sitting in the back in one of the dimly lit private dining rooms, Andy sitting across from me, looking like sunshine mixed with a wet dream in the soft yellow glow of the candle burning on our table.
She studies the menu, eyes looking at each item, uncertainty creasing her features.
"I'll be honest, I'm not sure what to get because I don't know what I'll like,” she admits, closing the red leather menu and setting it on the black tablecloth-covered table.
"Would you like me to order for you?" She nods instantly.
"I got you, mama. I'll order for us." She gives me a shy smile, her shoulders relaxing somewhat, yet she still seems nervous. I don't know if she's nervous to be with me or just inexperienced at dating.
In an attempt to break the ice, I give her a confession. "This isn't typical for me." I wave toward my attire. "I don’t do suits and fancy restaurants. Honestly, most days, I'm okay with a food truck. I don't need fancy shit."
"Why did you bring me here, then?"
"Because you deserve the finer things in life. And I want to be the one to give them to you."
"I always go to fancy restaurants." She smirks, sitting back in her chair. "Fly me first class to Greece for a week, and then I might be impressed."
I chuckle. "Only one week?"
She stares back at me. "Can you actually afford that?" she asks in a low tone, then scoffs, shaking her head. "Of course, you can. Sometimes I forget that you're literally a fucking rockstar." Her eyes widen with a sudden realization, then she gasps. “Oh my god, I’m on a date with a millionaire. ”
It's been a while since I've checked my bank accounts, but I know there are more zeros in that account than I'll ever be able to spend in this lifetime. After Riot's last album, my net worth skyrocketed to hundreds of millions.
"If you want to go to Greece, I'll take you. Max, too." She holds her hand up, giving me pause despite the wanderlust in her eyes.
"Let's see how our first date goes. I'm not the type of woman to get on a plane with a man I just met." She bites her bottom lip in an attempt to hide her grin.
"I think you know me pretty damn well, baby." It's scary how true that is. The things I've confessed to her this week, I've never admitted to anyone else. It's shocking how comfortable I feel with her and how much I want to remain an open book for her constantly.
When the waitress takes our order, I order nearly every roll on the menu. My girl doesn't know what she likes, so I will help her figure it out. She can try everything until she decides which roll she likes.
Once the waitress leaves, Andy's attention returns to me. "When do you move to Vegas?" Damn. We're jumping right into the topic weighing heavy on my mind all week and the conversation I've been dreading having with her.
Leaning forward, I watch the condensation drip down my water glass, my eyes tracking the movement of each drip of water slowly.
Inhaling, I lean back in my seat, slowly allowing my eyes to find hers across from me. Her face is set with a grim expression as she awaits my answer, no doubt preparing herself for the worst and trying to become detached. I only hope this time she doesn't push me away when she gets news that she doesn't like it.
"Fuck." I groan, scrubbing my hands over my freshly shaved face. "My manager, Benny, wants me to move now so I'm closer to the band whenever we need to rehearse. But it's not that far of a drive to come here every day and stay in Loganville."
"Why would you stay in Loganville? It's convenient for you to be here. Closer to your bandmates." Leaning forward, I reach across the table for her hand, and luckily, she places her golden hand in mine. My thumb mindlessly rubs along her soft skin.
"True, but I don't want to be away from you. Whatever the fuck is happening between us, I like it. Want it. Need it. Crave it," I confess, watching her face for a reaction. Her pupils dilate, red-painted lips parting.
"I have this feeling about you that I want to continue exploring. I'm not ready to give that up. How am I supposed to break down your walls if I'm unable to see you every day?" Her eyes soften at my declaration, shoulders relaxing as she exhales a sigh of what I assume is relief. Seems as if she'd been expecting the worst. Me to leave her.
"We haven't known each other long," she says. "Three weeks. Yet, I feel I've known you longer than that."
"That means we're soulmates." She bursts into a fit of laughter, pulling her hand away to place on her belly as she laughs.
Once she’s calmed herself, she wipes away invisible tears. "You're ridiculous," she says with a broad smile, her eyes never leaving mine.
I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a carefree conversation with someone or the company of a woman. It isn’t that I spent much time conversing with any though. I’d be with them long enough for them to hit on me, get to my hotel, and then I’d get them on their backs and they’d be screaming. Many tried to converse with me afterward, but I was never interested.
All I ever cared about was getting my dick wet and getting my next fix. But lately, I find myself caring about someone other than myself.
I care about Andy and want to claim her every thought and smile she has to offer. All it took was three weeks for her to become the light to my darkness.
Crazy how much can change in three weeks.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" Andy asks, breaking me away from my thoughts. She shifts in her seat, her dress clinging to her skin and rounding out her soft belly. Three weeks ago, she never would've worn a dress like this.
Three weeks ago, she would've constantly tugged at the fabric to get it away from her skin. Slowly, day by day, I've watched this beautiful woman grow into her confidence without realizing it.
If only she could see herself the way that I see her. She’d never have another negative thought again.
A small smile finds my lips as I realize I've been sitting there silently staring at her, fixated on the sight and intoxicating presence. "You make me happy, Andy. You and Max. It's something I never thought I'd feel again, and I sometimes feel guilty. I shouldn't get to be happy when I've done unforgivable things that I'll regret for the rest of my life. You are everything good about my day, and I worry that I'm going to let my demons ruin you."
She leans forward, elbows resting on the table as she speaks. "You deserve good things in your life, Declan. I know you think you don't. You think you're unlovable and unworthy of goodness, but I promise you that you deserve it all. Allow yourself to be happy."
If she knew what I'd done, she wouldn't look at me as she is. She's likely to slap me and run as far away as she can get and then hate herself for allowing her daughter to be around me. I want to confess my sins so fucking bad. Confess what I did to Luca. That I'm the reason he's dead because I was high while driving.
For the longest time, I blamed everyone but myself. Blamed Tommy for selling me the cocaine. Blamed whoever the fuck it came from for lacing it with who knows the fuck what.
Coke never affected me the way it did that night. And I knew better than to drive, especially in the rain, but I was so fucking angry at Camille for trying to ruin my high that I was trying to prove a point. To whom, I'm not sure.
That resulted in the car accident that claimed our son's life. I hadn't been wearing a seat belt and was thrown from the car the moment we collided with the semi. No one checked my blood, but I'm sure the reason I'm still alive is because I was under the influence. I'd laid there on the asphalt, vision blurry, body numb, unable to move or speak, as I heard Camille cry for our son.
Her screams of anguish had filled my ears as I succumbed to the darkness threatening my vision. I knew Luca was gone by the sound of her screams, and in that moment, I'd prayed for death.
The devil didn't take pity on me, and instead, days later, I woke up in the hospital, my wife by my side as she told me what I already knew. There was a car accident. Our son was gone.
Little did she know, it was all my fucking fault, and it wasn't an accident.
If Andy had known, she wouldn't think I was a good man or deserved happiness. She'd tell me what I already know. I'm a monster. A piece of shit. I should die for what I did. It wouldn't be anything new; it's things I tell myself daily anyway. Only I know the truth about the type of person I am.
I’m a fraud living on borrowed time until the devil is ready for me to pay for my sins.
Andy stands, eyes never leaving mine as she walks toward me, stopping beside me. She holds her hand out, and without hesitation, I place my palm in hers, standing when she tugs me up.
The way my tattooed flesh looks against her clear brown skin has my cock stirring in my pants and makes the little devil on my shoulder scream at me to corrupt her.
Mark her.
Scar her.
I want to forever taint her perfect skin with the devilish mark of me .
God, how I wish I deserved an angel like her. But I know our time together is temporary. My future and happiness with her aren't in the cards for me. The devil himself told me what he had planned for me, and it was a life full of sorrow and self-destruction. I was destined for that the moment I was born.
I'm living on borrowed time right now.
Meeting Andy and being with her only reminds me of what my future will never be like.
Being with her is only for a moment.
Not a lifetime.
We're temporary.
But I'll be damned if I'm not going to be a selfish prick and steal every moment with her while I can. Might as well soak it up with the beautiful woman before me.
This is yet another reason I know I'm not a good man.
"I don't care what you think. All you need to do is believe me because I'm a mom, and moms know shit. We're usually always right." She grins teasingly, taking a step toward me.
Her arms wrap around my neck, her breasts pressing against my chest as she hugs me tightly to her soft, warm body.
My body relaxes against her, and I wrap my arms around her waist, holding her so fucking tightly against my body. I’m afraid that if I were to let go, she'd disappear, and I'd wake up to find this temporary moment was just a dream.
My eyes close, nose buried in her curly hair as I inhale her cherry-vanilla scent.
Her body is soft and pliable against mine. She needs this just as much as I do.
It's crazy how a simple hug can relax your racing mind. Human contact sets off mood-altering chemicals in the brain.
I'm not sure how long we remain in the embrace, me holding her and her holding me right back like I'm her fucking lifeline, but we pull away and return to our seats when the waitress returns to our private dining room with our plates of food.
Plate after plate of sushi rolls and nigiri are placed on the table around us, not an empty spot in sight as we become surrounded by food.
"Sorry that our date turned out to be a little heavy," I say, forcing a laugh, suddenly embarrassed by the fact our date turned into an emotional confession instead of a lighthearted conversation I'm sure she wanted to have.
Andy shrugs. "I'll always want you to be real with me. I'd rather you tell me what's on your mind and how you feel rather than some bullshit. Doesn't matter where we are or how heavy the topic is." I nod, then pick up my chopsticks and focus on the food.
Deciding to start her off with something simple, I pick up the spicy crab roll and bring the bite toward her mouth. "Open." She obeys, opening her mouth wide enough for me to place the sushi roll inside. Slowly, she chews while I watch her expression closely.
Her expression shifts from skeptical to one of intrigue as mine shifts to amusement. "Good?" I ask, confirming what her face is portraying.
"Fuck, yeah." She takes a drink of water. "You just took my sushi virginity." She laughs and I join in.
Picking up another roll, I feed it to her, then feed one to myself while she chews.
We continue on like that. I feed her one piece of each roll before I eat one, and we go through all the plates, trying each one. Surprisingly, she seems to like most of them. The only pieces she doesn't like are the raw ones, but she's still a champ and tries them all.
By the time we're done sampling everything, we're both stuffed and sitting back in our seats. The waitress came to check in on us, and I have her package everything to go before bringing the check.
Andy declined dessert, and selfishly, I'd hoped she would've gotten it so we'd have more time together. I hate that our night is ending when I don't want it to. I'm not ready to say goodnight to her.
Not now. Not ever.
"What's your favorite food?" she asks the random question, taking me by surprise. One thing I've learned about Andy is you never know what to expect. One minute, she's asking what my favorite movie is; the next second, she's asking what conspiracy theories I believe in.
"Smash burgers. A food truck in New York makes the best smash burgers you'll ever have. They're always open late, so sometimes when I couldn't sleep, I'd get out of bed and walk a few blocks to get one."
"I've never had one before." That doesn't surprise me. Loganville doesn't have many dining options.
"One day, I'll take you to New York to get one," I tell her, trying my fucking hardest to believe the lie, knowing that it likely won't be in the cards for us.
"Deal." She agrees with an easy smile.
If telling her pretty lies keeps the smile on her face and the sparkle in her eyes, I'll continue telling her pretty bow-wrapped lies.
"Deal," I confirm, reaching for her hand, needing to touch her before I wake up from the dream.