Chapter 10
Declan
As Declan finished his laps the next morning, he noticed Oliver watching him from the far side of the pool.
‘Morning,’ Oliver said, his voice still thick with sleep.
His hair hadn’t been brushed yet, but Declan liked the look of him this way.
He looked soft in the mornings.
‘Morning,’ Declan replied, leaning his arms along the side of the pool and resting his head on them, trying to catch his breath.
‘You’re beautiful in the water,’ Oliver said.
Declan laughed, surprised.
There was a beat where neither of them said anything, both still basking in the silence of the cool morning air.
Oliver shifted next to him, pulling one of his legs out of the water and curling it under his other knee as he leaned back on his hands.
The movement caused his shin to knock against Declan’s arm.
Neither moved away.
‘How are you feeling?’ Declan asked finally.
Oliver looked more rested than he had since Declan had met him, which he took as a good sign.
‘I’m good. Really good, honestly.’
He looked like he wanted to say more, but stopped short.
Then, ‘I’m glad we’re mates now.’
Declan’s stomach flipped.
‘Me too.’
Oliver nodded, turning as the bedroom lights switched on and the other contestants filtered through the sliding glass doors.
‘I’ll let you finish up.’
He walked to meet Maeve in the kitchen.
Declan looked after him for a moment, enjoying the graceful way his body moved before shaking his head and sinking back into the water.
Later that morning, Brian waved Declan over and told him to have a chat with Holly about her budding romance with Owen.
Declan rolled his eyes, tired already of the manufactured conversations, but conceded.
He found Holly sitting on the balcony and joined her on the couch.
‘Fancy meeting you here,’ Holly drawled.
‘Anything new with you?’ Declan asked.
‘Any bearded Irishmen come to sweep you off your feet?’
‘He’s right fit, isn’t he?’
Holly said, uncharacteristically excited.
‘But does he like me?’
‘Oh, Holls,’ Declan said, putting an arm around her.
‘Don’t tell me you’re up here looking all conflicted because you’re worried he doesn’t want to crack on with you.’
‘No,’ Holly said defensively.
It was almost funny to see the normally unflappable Holly so anxious over a man, but Declan tried to stay serious.
‘You’re a total catch.
If he doesn’t want you, he’s mad.
Just tell him how you feel.’
‘You want us to communicate in a healthy manner about our relationship?’ she joked.
‘That’s completely unrealistic.’
‘You idiot,’ Declan said, ruffling her hair with one hand.
Holly stuck her tongue out at him.
‘Oh, all right,’ she said, standing.
‘I suppose I’m off to be a grown-up.
Need any romantic advice from me before I go?’
Declan shook his head.
‘I’m the love expert here.’
She headed back inside, and Declan lay back on the couch for a few minutes.
While he enjoyed the solitude, he felt a sudden longing to talk through things honestly with Georgia.
He was certain that if he could curl up with her and tell her everything happening with Zoe and Oliver, she would be able to help him figure it all out.
But the feeling in his chest when he was close to Oliver wasn’t something he thought he could describe.
The initial embarrassment of his drunken words on the beach had subsided, leaving uneasiness in its wake.
Thinking back to their conversation the night before and the one that morning, Declan was letting Oliver get to him in a way he’d never allowed anyone to before, revealing things he hadn’t meant to.
It was throwing him off his game.
The chime sounded and Declan sighed, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming.
When he walked onto the patio, Owen’s arm was around Holly’s waist. Darcy’s voice rang out: ‘Owen, take the Lover of your choice on a romantic night out.’
He looked at Holly, a stupid smile on his face.
‘Holly Henderson, will you do me the honour of going on this date?’
‘I will,’ Holly said, her cheeks reddening.
‘Imogen,’ Darcy continued.
‘You and another Lover will join Owen and Holly on their date. Choose wisely!’
‘What do you say, Jackie boy?’ she asked.
Jack’s smile was a bit too bright.
‘’Course, love.’
The boys headed into the bedroom.
‘Nervous?’ Declan teased Jack.
Jack shrugged, rifling through his duffel for a clean shirt.
‘Low stakes, man. Imogen is fit, but it’s too early to know how we’ll get on.’
Declan was again struck by how close to the chest Jack played certain parts of the show.
Niall frowned. ‘Someone who likes Imogen should go on the date. She deserves a chance at love, too.’
‘It’s decided,’ Declan joked.
‘Who’ll go on the date, though?’
‘Not me,’ Niall said.
He went red. ‘I mean, obviously.’
Declan turned to Oliver, who ran a frantic hand through his hair.
‘I’m fully committed to Maeve.
Can’t stray.’
‘Is that right?’ Jack asked, narrowing his eyes.
Declan stifled a laugh; none of them wanted to admit they found Imogen to be a bit much.
‘Don’t look so smug, King.’
Jack whipped his attention to Declan.
‘I saw that swerve from Zoe this morning. Are you two having a lovers’ quarrel?’
Declan’s mood immediately darkened, remembering how coldly Zoe had acted towards him at breakfast. ‘We’re fine.’
He pointed at the shirt in Jack’s right hand.
‘I think the blue one.’
He left the boys, only to find a sullen-looking Maeve standing alone in the kitchen.
He wordlessly filled the kettle, catching her eye and giving her a questioning nod.
‘Yeah, thanks,’ she said.
‘Everything all right?’ he asked.
‘You seemed upset after the party last night.’
‘Oh,’ she said, fidgeting.
‘Just in my cups.’ She gave him a weak smile, but he could tell something was still bothering her.
‘I know that you and I aren’t exactly close, but I’m here if you want to talk.’
‘Well, it’s just – last night—’ She cut herself off, lips scrunching as she struggled to articulate her thoughts.
‘What do you think of Imogen?’
‘I suppose if Jack likes her, then I like her well enough too,’ Declan said slowly.
‘And does he?’ Maeve asked, searching his face intently.
‘Like her, I mean.’
‘Uh, maybe?’ Declan’s brows drew together.
‘Why?’
Maeve blushed and it finally clicked.
‘No…’ Declan gaped at her.
‘Jack?’ It came out too loudly and she shushed him.
‘I just think he’s funny.’
She looked at the kettle, which had boiled already without them noticing, pressing the lever down to reheat it.
‘And cute,’ she added.
Declan bit back a laugh at her comically anguished expression before another thought struck him.
‘What about Oliver?’
‘Right,’ Maeve said.
‘I guess I wanted to know if there’s a chance with Jack first, before telling Oliver.’
‘I think Jack would be mad not to go for you,’ he said, but it felt stiff, dread trickling up his spine.
‘Oliver will be all right, though,’ Maeve said, eyeing him with concern.
Declan made a concentrated effort to smooth his expression.
‘I’ll talk to him, I promise.’
He nodded, thinking back to Oliver sitting by the pool, his knee touching Declan’s arm.
He thought about Oliver’s eyes the night before, when they had been too close together.
Declan would figure out a way to keep Oliver on the show.
He’d fix this.
The next morning, Declan lingered over his workout, considering how to broach Maeve’s confession with Oliver.
Even though she’d told him not to, he didn’t think he could go much longer without bringing it up.
He emerged from the water and walked to where Oliver was waiting with two mugs of tea in the kitchen, still unsure of what to do.
Oliver wordlessly passed him a mic and Declan clipped it onto his shorts.
When he said nothing, Oliver handed him his tea.
Declan took a sip and nodded his thanks.
‘I want to talk to you about something,’ he said finally.
Oliver absentmindedly fingered the buttons on his shirt.
‘Yeah?’
‘Do you like her?’ Taking in Oliver’s blank look, he clarified, ‘Maeve.’
‘Er…’ Oliver’s eyes flicked sideways, towards Brian and the cameraman, and he cleared his throat.
‘I like Maeve a lot. I’m not sure I fancy her exactly…’
He trailed off, seeming flustered, and Declan realised he’d been staring.
‘What do you mean, you’re not sure?’
Declan asked, wishing they could have a moment alone.
He wanted to make Oliver understand this wasn’t part of their game, that he was trying to help him.
‘I mean, you’ve not been looking at any of the other girls.
And she’s fit, isn’t she?
She’s a bloody solicitor.
What’s not to like?’
Oliver just looked at him helplessly.
‘Are you asking me if it’s okay for you to crack on with her?’
He gave Declan a weak smile.
‘Thought we were past that.’
Declan shook his head.
‘I’m trying to understand what you’re looking for.’
Oliver seemed lost in thought.
‘I guess it’s not that simple for me, knowing if I fancy someone.
I haven’t felt that way since I was a teenager.
I thought I would know it when it happened, but I’m a bit lost.’
‘It’s been that long?’
Declan couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice.
Oliver adjusted his glasses self-consciously.
‘I was sixteen when my ex and I got together, and we broke up a few months ago.’ He paused.
‘Almost eight months ago. She moved to America,’ he said, as though that explained things.
‘Oh,’ Declan said. Oliver’s decision to come on the show finally made sense – only someone in crisis would do something as mad as try to find love on a reality show.
‘That must have been hard for you.’
Oliver’s expression softened, some anxiety leaving his face.
‘Makes my hermit comment a little less funny, to be sure.’
Declan didn’t know how to process this new piece of information, trying to marry this revelation with what he’d thought he’d known about Oliver.
‘How did you know that you fancied her?’ he asked finally, and then immediately regretted the question.
The last thing he wanted to hear about was Oliver’s feelings for his ex-girlfriend.
Oliver blinked at him.
‘Pardon?’
‘We’ve got to start somewhere, don’t we?’
Declan said. ‘I mean, it was a long time ago, but surely you remember.’
‘Er…’ Oliver said.
‘It was easy, instant. We were paired up in class – I’d just moved to London and she took me under her wing, introduced me to her mates, never left me alone…’
He struggled for a moment, but finally continued, his expression wistful, ‘I felt like the luckiest person in the world. She was the first person in my life who didn’t think that my plans were mad – they were the same as hers.’
Declan stared at him, thoughts racing.
Oliver’s raw tone in talking about this woman Declan had never met made him realise what a perilous position he had put himself in.
Oliver was straight, and clearly in love with someone else, yet somehow had got past Declan’s usual defences.
‘It was easy to fall for her,’ Oliver continued, oblivious to Declan’s internal struggle.
‘I mean, everyone loves Sophie – if you met her, you would love her too. She’s just like that.’
Declan couldn’t imagine a reality where that was true, but he politely refrained from saying so.
After a moment, he realised Oliver was waiting for a response.
‘God, I didn’t…’
He cleared his throat, his mouth suddenly dry.
It was clear Oliver still cared for her, his love for her somehow unshakeable.
It reminded him of Georgia and James; the kind of love that was wholly foreign to Declan.
The transparent pain on Oliver’s face made him inexplicably jealous of how he let himself be so vulnerable even after she’d broken his heart.
Declan had seen the aftermath of bad break-ups before, both Georgia’s tears and his father’s disengagement.
The day after Declan’s mother had walked out, his father had acted like nothing had happened, and so Declan had done the same.
He’d never thought admitting that he needed her, that he missed her, was an option.
His dad had needed him to be brave, unflinching, and then as the years passed, his career had demanded the same.
‘I didn’t realise you could even date someone for that long,’ he finished lamely.
Oliver shrugged, examining Declan’s hands rather than meeting his eye.
‘Maybe you haven’t found the girl that will change your mind,’ he said in a strange voice.
Declan laughed softly, hoping it didn’t sound hollow.
‘That’s what they tell me.’
‘Maybe it’s Zoe,’ Oliver said, and winced.
Declan nodded, looking away, part of him wishing he’d never approached Oliver on the beach.
Maybe then the careful lies upon which he’d constructed his entire life wouldn’t feel so precarious.
Talking to Oliver was like standing on a precipice.
His eyes refocused on the cameraman standing over Oliver’s right shoulder.
He swallowed, suddenly remembering the purpose of the conversation.
‘It seems like when you fancy someone, you really fancy her,’ he said, the facade sliding smoothly back into place.
‘Enough to date her for, what, eight years? So I think if you did fancy Maeve, you would know for sure.’
Declan glanced at the cameraman again as he said it.
Oliver’s eyes followed his and understanding dawned in them – he’d forgotten about the cameras too.
‘You have a point,’ Oliver said stiffly.
Declan forced himself to smile.
‘Which is excellent news, because Maeve fancies Jack!’
Oliver blinked.
‘How do you know that?’
Declan shrugged.
‘Women like to tell me about their feelings. I’m a trustworthy sort.’
Oliver ran a hand through his hair before pasting on a grin, deflecting with a joke.
‘It wasn’t learned under duress, then?’
‘Freely volunteered,’ Declan declared.
Then, lowering his voice conspiratorially, ‘But I think she wanted to be careful to not hurt your feelings, because she likes you.’
‘So she sent you in, since you’re so careful with my feelings?’
‘I would guard your heart with my life,’ Declan said dramatically, placing a hand on Oliver’s breastbone.
That finally got Brian’s attention, and he looked over at them from behind his phone.
‘Good stuff, you two. Do it again, but this time try to ham it up a bit, yeah?’