63. Brogan
“Are you sure you want to go back to your Manhattan penthouse instead of Staten Island?” I asked when Declan got into my car.
We’d just avoided the paparazzi and the throng of fans camped out front of Mount Sinai Hospital, and ones that had been there for days.
Although there’d been security in place to ward people off, we still ended up having to go through a service entrance just to leave.
Now, we were safely in my car, which had tinted windows, and would be headed away from the hospital while others waited out front of it.
It'd just be a matter of time before the media reported that Declan had been released from the hospital. Once they’d realized they missed him, everyone would scatter away like the roaches they were.
I didn't really understand how he could deal with these crazies all the time. It’d been enough for me when Layla had left town, and it wasn’t nearly the media circus Declan drew day in and day out.
Back then, I’d had people trying to follow me to get the scoop on whether or not I knew anything.
Of course, substantial reward money was a big incentive too.
But Declan… this was his life, which I’d known before, but I’d never really paid it as much attention as I did now.
The truth of the matter was that we’d been surrounded by nurses, doctors, and other medical professionals at the hospital.
I just wanted to be alone with Declan, away from prying eyes.
I wanted to hold my man in one of our king-sized beds and let the entire world fade away as it once had.
Whenever with my man, or even Enslee, everything faded into the background.
Time would stand still, and there’d be just the two or even three of us.
Somehow, it was the way it’d been meant to be.
We also had a lot to talk about. While we’d talked things out a few nights ago, I felt like there was still so much that’d been left unsaid.
It didn’t matter where we talked, as long as it was private, so if he preferred to stay in Manhattan, it was fine by me.
After all, it was closer to the hospital, and the limited distance meant I was that much closer to holding my man in my arms.
“Final answer. Are you sure you want to go back to your penthouse?”
“Yeah. I need to see something other than that damned hospital room. I’d also love to sleep in my own bed with the man I love beside me. You will stay, won’t you?”
“They’d have to drag me away to make me leave,” I responded, and he smiled.
God! I’d been such a fucking fool the last few months. How I ever thought I could live without him was fucked up. So had my life been when I’d been foolish enough to try. I glanced over at him as I merged out into traffic and headed toward Central Park near where he lived.
“It's fucking surreal that this feels brand new, when we've done this a million times before,” I said.
Declan looked over at me. “Yes, but a lot’s changed. This is a second chance for us… a new beginning…”
“I suppose, although I’ll never forget the past.” When his facial expression fell, I realized what I’d said.
“I’m not talking about that, Declan. I’m referring to our past, yes, but only because I can’t stop reliving every fucking moment I've ever spent with you. I don't want to forget all of that.”
“I don’t want to forget those memories either, but remembering the good eventually brings up the bad. After the accident, I feel reborn and only want to think positive thoughts going forward.”
“We’re going to live such a great life together, baby.
And on our terms this time. I’d vowed when in prison to live for the moment if I’d ever gotten out of there.
I don't want to forget our past. I don't want to forget you.
I don't want to forget our friendship or our love.
I don't want to forget a single fucking moment of it.”
Declan placed his hand on my right knee. “We don't have to forget about any of that, and I never could anyway. Our entire lives have been so intertwined. It’s our love that binds us together, not the lies or secrets. If you do want to go down memory lane though, then…”
“Then, what?”
“I wouldn't mind you reintroducing me to things,” he said almost coyly.
I immediately knew what he was referring to and a groan slipped from my lips. “How’s your pain level? Do we need to run by a pharmacy or store before heading to your place?”
“No. I’d filled my prescription for pain meds at the hospital, but I don't think I'll need them. I actually feel great right now. I'm just anxious to get home where I can change into something more comfortable.”
“I rather enjoyed the sight of you in that backless gown,” I said as he rolled his eyes.
“Always the pervert, Brogan.”
“When the one I’m looking at is you, then hell yeah I am.”
“I also hate those fucking showers at the hospital.”
“I can agree with you on that. They fucking sucked.”
His building came into view, and it wasn’t long before I parked in one of his dedicated spaces, and in the spot where his car would’ve sat had it not been totaled in the crash. After parking, I walked around the side of the car to help him out, then fussed over him all the way upstairs.
In the elevator, he finally turned to me. “Don't treat me like an invalid, Brogan.”
At that, I threw my hands up and backed away. “I just want to take care of you like you’ve done so many times for me.”
“I know, and while I appreciate and love you for it, I’m not a piece of fragile glass that’ll break. The only thing that’ll destroy me would be to lose you.”
“And that’s never happening,” I assured him.
“Now that our second chance has begun, what do you think we should do first?”
As the private elevator came to a stop, I grinned. “We should go inside.”
Declan input his code into the keypad, and we soon stepped over the threshold.
Once we did, I realized how long it’d been since I'd last been here.
Had it been the night Layla disappeared?
Or had I been here since? I couldn't really remember.
Those days all blurred together, even though so much had happened during that time.
I stepped farther into the room and took it all in.
On one side of the great room was the open kitchen with dark counters and cabinets that led into a wide open space, which was light and bright with cream colored furniture.
What caught my attention now, and always had in the past, was the view of Central Park, along with the East and Hudson Rivers outside the wall of windows.
I had a similar view from my penthouse, but his was closer to the park, so it provided an even more spectacular sight.
I was now thinking about how many nights I’d either taken him, or he’d taken me, against the thick-paned glass. I really needed to pull my head out of the gutter, but as he came up behind me like he had so many times, I fell forward at this gentle push and let him press himself against me.
“I can’t count the number of nights I’d been balls deep in your ass as I stared out these very windows.
And even more memorable were the nights when you’d nearly fucked me through that same glass.
Since you want to remember those memories less, we’ll have to create some new ones soon you can dwell on instead. Until then, I’m going to shower.”
“Damn tease,” I said as he backed away and walked toward his bedroom.
“Are you hungry?” I asked him before he could fully disappear through the door.
“Hell yes. I doubt the food at the hospital was even edible.”
“It wasn’t,” I agreed, and when he paused, I added. “Go ahead and shower. I’ll make us something to eat.”
“Thanks, baby,” he said before disappearing inside it.
I went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to see what I had to work with.
I wasn't a chef, or anything close to one, but I could make a few things. As I looked at what he had available, I paused. Since he’d been gone for two weeks, most everything inside looked as edible as the hospital food.
After rummaging around, I noticed some cheese, then spied a loaf of brioche bread on the counter. I grabbed the various packages of sliced cheese along with some butter before placing everything onto the counter.
Grilled cheese sandwiches were something we’d often cooked up in our dorm.
That, and everyone’s favorite–ramen. As I started to prepare the sandwiches, it all came rushing back.
I doubted I’d made this in years, maybe even as far back as college.
As I started to cook each one, something struck me.
This was the sort of thing Enslee would make for herself in her van.
When we’d called her the day after Declan awakened, she’d been eating SpaghettiOs out of the can.
I shook my head, partially to clear my head of thoughts of hers, and also so I could focus.
The last thing I wanted to do was burn our only dinner.
The next few minutes were spent cooking the rest of the sandwiches, and I’d no sooner gotten them made, cut, and put onto a plate when Declan emerged from the bedroom in nothing but a pair of sweatpants.
My eyes drank in the sight of him shirtless.
There was a faint amount of bruising around his shoulder from the car accident, but they were starting to fade.
They weren't as ugly-looking as they’d been the first night.
The longer I stared at him, the more aroused I became.
Just like before, my dick hardened at the sight of him half naked, especially knowing he was wearing nothing underneath his sweatpants.
Reminding myself that he was still injured, I forced myself to look away. Declan joined me at the bar, and I watched as he looked at the plate before turning his gaze toward me. He didn’t say anything, but he did arch his brow.
“Hey, you didn't have much to work with.” He was still eyeing the food as if it was spoiled or something, and I muttered, “You weren't this picky a decade ago.”