Chapter 2
Chapter Two
SUTTON
"What about this one?" Keira holds up a burgundy dress that's way too short.
"I'm not going to a club. We're going to dinner."
"You could pull it off." She tosses it on the bed. "You need to look hot. Like, 'I can't believe I let you go' hot."
"I let him go."
She waves a hand. “Semantics."
Keira pulls out the black dress from my closet—the one I wore to the hockey awards banquet last year. Simple, elegant, perfect.
I study it. “I like it.”
“Good. Now, let’s get this party started. Your glam squad is here.”
I make a big show of looking around the room.
“I do it all,” she says with a wink. “Now sit. Let’s do something with that mop on your head.”
“Hey!”
She grins and reaches for her curling iron.
I take a seat and let her work her magic.
I’ve never been a girly-girl, but I do like to dress up on occasion.
Keira isn’t really the princess type either, but having grown up in a wealthy family that required her to attend various balls and galas over the years, she knows glam.
I trust her to transform me from a college athlete into a total smoke show.
Twenty minutes later, my hair falls in loose waves around my shoulders. My makeup is more than my usual, but tasteful. The dress fits perfectly. I actually look and feel beautiful. I feel like someone who should be on Declan’s arm.
"He's going to lose his mind," Keira says.
“Do you think it’s too much?” I ask. “He just said we were going to a restaurant off-campus. He could mean that taco place.”
She rolls her eyes. “He didn’t mean the taco place, and who cares. Is there ever a wrong time to look hot?”
"He's going to lose his mind," Keira says, stepping back to admire her work.
"You think?"
"Sutton, you look incredible. He's going to forget how to speak."
There is a knock at my bedroom door. I open it, and there he is. Declan. With roses. He is wearing a jacket and tie, and I am suddenly so glad I went with the dress and all the glam.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi.”
Keira steps behind me and pokes me in the back. “Told you.” She steps around me. “Have fun, guys.”
She walks away, leaving me and Declan staring at each other like we’re strangers. I’m suddenly sixteen and going on my first date.
Why am I nervous? I was naked in bed with the man less than twelve hours ago.
"You look..." He trails off, his eyes moving over me slowly. "Wow. You look beautiful, Sutton."
Heat rushes to my cheeks. "You clean up pretty nice yourself."
“These are for you.” He thrusts the roses at me.
“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”
I smell them and smile. “I’m guessing there aren’t any vases in the house?”
He chuckles. “No.”
“I’ll put them in a glass.”
We go downstairs. Ashton and Pierce are playing PlayStation. They look up when we step into the living room.
Pierce whistles low. “Wow. Is it prom?”
“Shut up,” Declan snaps. “Just because you idiots don’t own a jacket. I know how to treat a lady.”
“You look stunning, Sutton,” Ashton says.
“Thank you.”
“I own a jacket,” Pierce retorts. “Several.”
I find a glass, put the roses in it, and leave it on the table for now.
He opens the passenger door for me, and I try not to think about how this feels both familiar and completely new at the same time. Like we're picking up where we left off, but better. Older. Wiser.
God, I hope we're wiser.
The restaurant is perfect—white tablecloths, soft lighting, and Italian music.
I’m so glad I dressed up. I didn’t have many opportunities to eat at the restaurants around town.
They were way too expensive for me. Last year, I waited tables at the burger place close to campus, and that’s where I will be starting again soon.
I bet the waitstaff here made some good tips.
But I wasn’t even connected enough to get a job waiting on the rich elite in Avalon.
"This is really nice," I say.
"You deserve nice." He takes my hand and kisses the back of my knuckles.
After we order wine, Declan leans forward. "Tell me about that summer internship you mentioned."
My whole face lights up. I can't help it. "It's amazing. The state forensic lab in Boston—DNA analysis unit. We process evidence for criminal cases, cold cases, active investigations, everything."
"Yeah? Like that show?”
"Yes, but the results don’t take five minutes,” I say with a laugh.
“That show set some pretty realistic expectations.
The summer was mostly filing and organizing, but I got to observe a few cases.
" I lean forward. "There was this one case from twenty years ago.
A woman was murdered, and they never caught the guy.
But we had DNA from the scene, and with the new databases and technology, we finally got a match. "
"That's incredible."
"They arrested him last month. Twenty years later, this family finally gets justice.
I was there when they made the match. I got to be part of that.
" I can’t help but smile. I loved that moment.
I loved the work. "That's what I want to do, Declan.
I want to help people. I want to solve cases that seem unsolvable.
They have offered me a job upon graduation. "
He's watching me with an expression I can't read. Pride, maybe. Or something else.
"You're going to be amazing at it," he says softly.
"I hope so. I know the salary isn't great, and I'll be living in a shoebox in Boston, but it's worth it. My dad is so proud. He keeps telling everyone his daughter is going to be a scientist."
Declan's smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Boston's great. Close to home."
The waiter takes our food order. When he leaves, Declan is quiet.
"What about you?" I ask. "What's the plan after graduation?"
He shrugs. “Not sure.”
“You’re still majoring in sports management?”
He nods. “I am.”
“Are you hoping to get into the NHL?”
It’s a question I’m not really sure I want the answer to. In our freshman year, he was all about making it big. He was hoping to get drafted in his sophomore year. I’m not sure why he didn’t. I know he’s good. Really good.
“Yeah. Sure. Maybe. There’s no guarantee. Just because Pops was a star, it doesn’t mean I will be.”
He seems down on himself, which isn’t normal. But I don’t pry. I’m not going to be the typical girl and ask him what he’s feeling and all that stuff.
Not yet.
Maybe when we’re in bed, and he’s in the haze of an amazing orgasm.
"What teams are looking at you?" I ask.
Breadsticks are delivered to our table. I grab one and tear it in half. I’m watching him trying to decide how to answer the question. Maybe this is a sore subject. Maybe the fact that he hasn’t made it into the draft is a bad thing.
I suddenly feel terrible for bringing it up.
He shrugs. "There's interest. Nothing concrete. The season hasn't started."
"Your dad must have connections."
"Too many." There's an edge to his voice. "Sometimes I wish he'd let me figure it out instead of orchestrating everything."
"He just wants what's best for you."
"He wants what's best for his company." Declan shakes his head. "Sorry. This is supposed to be a good night."
"It is." I smile. "Best date I've had in three years."
That makes him laugh.
We fall into an easier conversation. He tells me about practice, about Coach riding them already. I tell him about my forensic pathology class.
"You're going to look at dead bodies?" he asks.
"Photos. Crime scene photos, autopsy reports. All the fun stuff."
"That's so morbid."
"That's science." I grin.
He shakes his head, smiling. "You're incredible. Most people can't handle that stuff. But you light up when you talk about it."
“I don’t love the idea of someone losing their life, but I do love the idea of figuring out who did it and becoming part of some nerdy avenger team.”
"Have you ever thought about working somewhere else? California? LA has great labs."
I wrinkle my nose. "California?"
"Or Seattle. Somewhere warm."
“Seattle is not warm. Seattle is wet.”
“Okay, California. Sun. Palm trees. The beach.”
Feels like an odd question. Oddly specific. "My dad's here. My whole life is here. Why would I leave? Is this about something?"
"No. I just..." He runs his hand through his hair. "I was curious. If you'd ever thought about it."
"Not really. Boston is where I want to be. The state lab is one of the best in the country. Why would I go somewhere else?"
"Right. Of course." He doesn't meet my eyes. "That makes sense."
The moment feels heavy, like we're having two conversations at once.
“Are you thinking about going to California?” I ask.
“No. I was just thinking about warm weather.”
I nod, but it feels off.
Declan forces a smile and changes the subject.
We finish dinner, and he pays with a black credit card. I’m used to those cards. Almost everyone around Avalon comes from money. The “poor” students live in million-dollar mansions.
When we walk back to his truck, he pulls me close and kisses me under the streetlight. It's soft and perfect.
"Thank you for tonight," I say.
"Don't thank me yet. I'm not done with you."
He drives to a lookout point on the edge of campus, one of those spots where couples go to make out without roommates walking in. Everyone knows what happens out here, and everyone minds their business. No one is peeping in anyone else’s windows.
"Very smooth, Hayes."
"I have my moments." He kills the engine. "Come here."
I climb over the center console into his lap, laughing when my dress rides up. His hands find my waist, and then his mouth is on mine.
His fingers thread through my hair. My hands slide under his shirt. When he kisses down my neck, I make an embarrassing sound.
"I love that sound," he murmurs.
"Shut up."
"Make me."
I kiss him harder, and he groans. His hands move up my thighs, and I'm considering how awkward it would be to have sex in his truck when headlights flash across the area.
I freeze.
The car drives to the far side of the clearing and turns off its lights.
“Come here,” Declan murmurs.
I smile and return my attention to him. "This is perfect. You're perfect. Tonight is perfect."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." I rest my forehead against his. "I'm really happy, Declan. Like, stupidly happy."
"Me too." But there's something sad in his voice.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I just..." He cups my face. "I don't want to screw this up again."
"You won't."
"How do you know?"
"Because we're not those scared kids anymore. We know what we want. We know what we almost lost." I kiss him softly. "We're going to be okay."
He pulls me closer. "Promise me something."
"What?"
"That we'll figure it out. Whatever comes next, we'll figure it out together."
"Of course we will." But even as I say it, I feel that same unease from dinner, like he knows something I don't. "Declan, is something wrong?"
"No. Nothing's wrong." He kisses me again, deep and urgent. "Everything is perfect."
We make out like teenagers, getting right up to third base before he pulls back.
“You know, we have two beds at home,” he says. “This feels like a lot of acrobatics for no reason.”
I laugh. “Good point. I don’t think I’m flexible enough for this.”
“Me neither.”
I climb back into the passenger seat and smile all the way home.