Chapter 9
Lena
The slow, steady beat echoes in my head as I snuggle in closer. A warmth surrounds me, a comfort I haven't felt in so long that it almost feels foreign. Strong arms tighten around me, and my eyes snap open.
I freeze, my breath catching in my throat as I assess the situation.
My head is resting on Declan’s chest, the steady thump of his heart beating a slow, soothing rhythm beneath my cheek.
One of his hands is splayed across my lower back, his other arm curled beneath my neck like a protective barrier between me and the world.
His scent of soap, cedar, and something inherently him wraps around me, intoxicating and dangerous.
He’s sound asleep.
And I should pull away.
I know I should pull away.
But I don’t.
Instead, I close my eyes and allow myself this one selfish moment to breathe him in, to feel safe in his arms, to pretend that this, that we, could be real.
His chest rises and falls beneath me, and I match my breathing to his, letting the steady rhythm lull me back into a dreamy daze.
My fingers twitch, tempted to trace the tattoos inked into his skin, to memorize the lines and shadows that stretch across his body.
I don't, but the urge is so strong it aches.
I shift slightly, careful not to wake him, but his arms tighten again, instinctively pulling me closer, his hand sliding ever so slightly lower on my back. My breath stutters at the contact, heat flaring across my skin like a wildfire.
I feel the change in him before I even look up. The subtle tension in his muscles, the way his breathing stutters just once before returning to that slow, steady rhythm. His hand flexes against my side, and I know.
He’s awake.
A long beat passes before he speaks, his voice low and husky, still laced with sleep. “You’re not exactly great at staying on your side.”
I don’t answer at first, afraid of what might come out if I do. The truth? A joke? A plea to let me stay?
Instead, I lift my head and meet his eyes.
They’re darker than usual, heavy-lidded and stormy with something that sends a shiver down my spine. Lust. Conflict. Longing. It’s all there, clear as day.
“I didn’t mean to…” I start, my voice barely a whisper.
“I know,” he says, his voice gruff. He shifts beneath me, one hand moving to my waist as if he's going to keep me there, but then he blinks and the mask slips back into place.
And just like that, the warmth starts to disappear.
Declan gently but firmly shifts away, rolling onto his back and dragging a hand through his messy hair. The distance between us is only a few inches, but it feels like a canyon.
“We should get up,” he mutters, voice clipped.
I swallow hard, nodding even though he’s not looking at me. “Yeah. Right.”
The morning light peeks in through the blinds, casting slivers of gold across the bed, but the chill in the room has nothing to do with the temperature.
And everything to do with the wall he just rebuilt between us.
It hurts more than it should, but I climb out of bed as he does.
The warmth of his body still lingers on my skin, but I stay seated on the edge of the mattress, facing away from him, because right now I can’t bear to look at him.
My heart’s cracked wide open, raw and confused.
I’m embarrassed, upset, and undeniably turned on. It’s a brutal combination.
Declan says nothing as he walks out of the room, the door clicking softly behind him like the final nail in my chest. The second he's gone, I drop my face into my hands. I want to scream, cry, pull the sheets over my head, and pretend this never happened, but I can’t.
Not when everything inside me is screaming that being this close to him is dangerous.
He thinks he’s protecting me. And maybe in his own way, he is. But it hurts. It hurts because I want more, and he’s made it clear I can’t have it. These feelings, these goddamn feelings I bury so deep, they claw their way up every time I’m near him. And the worst part? I don’t want to stop them.
My feet hit the floor with purpose, determination washing over me like a cold wave. I can’t stay here. I won’t.
I’m leaving today, whether he likes it or not.
As I make my way to the kitchen, the strong scent of coffee weaves its way through the air. I wrap my arms around myself like a shield, bracing for another cold shoulder or worse, more silence.
Declan is sitting at the table, his thumb tapping against his phone screen. His hair’s still a mess from sleep, and he’s shirtless, of course he is. My traitorous body reacts instantly, but I force myself to hold my ground.
“Morning. Coffee’s brewing,” he says without looking up. “I need to head out of here shortly, but before I do, you need to make a few phone calls so I know it’s handled.”
My blood boils, heat racing up my neck. I lean my hip against the table and stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “You’re extremely bossy this morning. It’s not very becoming, if I’m honest.”
His thumb stills on his phone, but I keep going.
“I know I need to talk to Wesley and Jeanne. I know I messed up. What I don’t need is you treating me like a child who needs to be reminded of her mistakes. I told you I’d talk to them. I told you I’d handle it. You don’t need to stand over my damn shoulder while I do it.”
I pause long enough to inhale, my voice shaking now. “I’m going to have a cup of coffee, and then I’ll call Wesley and Jeanne. After that, I’m going to gather my clothes, and I’m going home.”
“Lena…”
I hold up my hand, cutting him off. “No. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do anymore.”
I step closer, resting my hand on top of his.
His skin is warm, his pulse steady beneath my palm.
“I appreciate you helping me, Declan. You’re always there when I need you most, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for that.
I don’t like owing people, and you know this.
Staying here isn’t necessary anymore. You handled Jason, and while I feel guilty as hell for dragging you into it, I’m grateful.
You're a good man, Declan. Honestly? The best. But it’s better if I’m not here.
And if you don’t understand that, then you haven’t really been paying attention. ”
I let my hand fall from his and drop my eyes. “This morning…” I falter, unable to finish the thought. My chest aches with all the unsaid things between us.
“Lena.” The way my name leaves his lips, like a whisper, a plea, forces me to meet his eyes again.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is quiet, and I see the regret etched into the lines of his face.
He stands and pours two mugs of coffee, sliding one toward me and nodding for me to sit.
I do, sipping it slowly, waiting for something more.
But it doesn’t come. Instead, his phone rings, and he steps outside without another word, leaving me sitting in the silence, feeling like I’ve said too much and still not enough.
I grab my phone and pull up Wesley’s number, a sad smile tugging at my lips when I see his face on the screen.
“Lee Lee, what the fuck?”
“Morning to you, too, big brother.”
“Don’t play with me. Where the hell are you?”
“I heard you spoke to Jeanne last night. I’m sorry. I lied to her. I met this guy and didn’t want to say anything until I knew if it was something worth talking about.” It’s not a total lie. I am at Declan’s. I do wish he was something worth talking about.
“Why do you keep doing this? Anything could happen to you, and none of us would even know. Stop with the fucking lies, Lena. If you have to hide a guy, he’s not worth it. Are you home?”
His disappointment cuts deeper than I expected. I swallow down the guilt.
“I’ll be heading home shortly.”
“Enough of this, Lena. I can’t keep losing sleep worrying about you.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, echoing Declan’s words back to my brother. A tear escapes and I swipe it away quickly.
“Well, are you going to keep seeing this guy or what?”
I glance around the kitchen, his cut draped over the back of a chair, the coffee pot nearly empty, and the money he left on the table for me.
“I’m not sure yet. But probably.”
“Get home, Lee Lee. Text me when you’re there.”
“Okay, Wesley.”
“Come to Twisted Souls tonight. Let’s have a drink. I miss my baby sister.”
I can’t say no. Not with the guilt sitting so heavy on my chest.
“Sounds good. I’ll see you tonight.”
We hang up, and I grab the money from the table. I head into Declan’s room and slip half the money back into his sock drawer. It feels childish, but I can’t leave without doing something to balance the scales.
I pull my clothes back on, the scent of his detergent clinging to the fabric, wrapping around me like a memory I’m scared to let go of.
As I gather my things and prepare to leave, Declan appears in the doorway, blocking my exit.
“I talked to Wesley. I’m going home to talk to Jeanne.”
“Lena…” His voice is gentle, his eyes scanning mine with something that looks a lot like longing. “I’d really like you to stay until I get back tonight.”
He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, shirtless, looking every bit the temptation I’ve been fighting since the second I walked through his door. My heart skips as his eyes roam over me. And for a second, I want to say yes. I want to stay.
I step toward him and rest my hand on his bare chest. His skin is warm, the steady thump of his heart calling out to me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
Then I duck under his arm and walk out of his house before I do something truly stupid.
Like ask him to stop letting me go.
“I’m so happy to have my fun friend back,” Jeanne says, grinning as she curls a strand of her hair and checks her makeup in the mirror.
I laugh, but it’s more of a soft, grateful sound. “I missed her, too.”
We’re getting ready in her bathroom, music playing low from her bedroom, makeup brushes and clothes scattered all over the place like old times. The familiar chaos feels like a reset button, and I’m thankful for it.
I told her the truth, well, a version of it. I told her I’d been with someone I shouldn’t have been, and that I didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t push, just gave me a knowing look and handed me a glass of wine. That meant more than I could ever say out loud.
Once I mentioned we were going to Twisted Souls tonight, she perked right up and practically squealed. After that, she didn’t care about anything else. Not who he was, not what happened. She was just excited that we were getting out. Together.
That’s what I love about Jeanne. She gives me space when I need it, no questions asked, and when I’m ready to let it go, she grabs the tequila and the lip gloss and reminds me how to be me again.
I slip into my favorite black jeans, the ones that hug my hips just right, and a strappy top that makes me feel sexy and strong.
I pause in front of the mirror, brushing a bit of highlighter across my cheekbones and adding a touch more eyeliner than usual.
I need to feel powerful tonight. Unshakable.
Even though part of me is buzzing with nerves at the thought of seeing Declan.
The other part is just plain excited. I haven’t been out in what feels like forever.
Not like this. No fear, no hiding. Just a night with my best friend, good music, strong drinks, and maybe a little flirting.
The idea of moving through a crowd, dancing, laughing, pretending for a few hours that my heart isn’t a damn mess. It feels freeing.
But I’d be lying if I said Declan wasn’t on my mind.
I know it’s going to be hard seeing him. Especially if he’s surrounded by other women, smiling at them with that smile that haunts my dreams. Or worse, if he ignores me altogether.
But I have to do this. I have to face him. I have to remind myself that what happened at his place was temporary. A bubble. A beautiful, aching fantasy that burst the second I walked out his front door. It wasn’t real, no matter how much I wanted it to be.
Tonight is about remembering who I am. Lena, the fun one. The one who doesn’t fall apart over a man, no matter how good he smells or how safe his arms feel.
“Okay, you ready?” Jeanne asks, tossing her purse strap over her shoulder and shooting me a wink.
“Hell yes,” I say, smiling as I check myself one last time.
I look good. I feel not quite whole, but close enough.
And as we head out the door, I tell myself that no matter what happens tonight, I’ll survive it.
I always do.