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All she gives me in return is a small nod and a, “Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.”
Parker’s laughter follows him back into the club as I lead Declan into the parking lot.
Fucking asshole.
______
Declan
I walk through the parking lot on clouds. The sturdy, solid, ass-kicking clouds of my Dr. Marten-clad feet. Once they’re worn in enough, theyfeellike clouds, anyway. Clouds that are still plenty heavy enough to serve as a weight anchoring me to the bottom of the sea—an alternative that’s sounding pretty appealing right about now.
Kidding.Mostly.
Glancing down at my boots, I jump and land with an audible thud. Heavy, indeed. And maybe I’m a tad tipsier than I’ve led myself to believe. I glance up at Jude, and the hint of a dimple dips into his face as he opens the passenger door to a beautiful, stunning, sleek-black classic car.
“Holy shit.” I take a step back to admire the view.
Sharp, masculinely curved lines; worn-in, genuine leather; wide, custom wheels; and an original dashboard straight from the ‘70s.
“A fucking Plymouth Barracuda,” I breathe.
It’s a moment too late that I note the feel of a solid chest behind me. Warm, masculine, hard. A shiver races through me. But instead of stepping away, I still, slowly spinning in place as my gaze climbs up the strong, muscled wall that is Jude. Amusement dances on his lips when my eyes reach his face, and…oh…wow.My heart stalls with the rest of me before sputtering back to life.
“Hey.” I poke his cheek in a moment of insanity. “Youcansmile. Look at that.”
My words betray me because that is not a smile framing his lips now. He’s scowling—and why does he look so beautiful when he scowls?
“Stupidly unfair,” I mumble as I lower into my seat.
If I were smarter, or less drunk, I wouldn’t consider the noise that leaves his mouth a chuckle. But in my current state? I take it and run with it.
“Wow. He can laugh, too,” I say, melting further into the leather beneath me as he drops himself into the driver’s seat. Dragging my gaze up his tanned and tattooed arms, I meet his stare. That hard-as-granite, impenetrable gray stare.
“I’m not a completely unfeeling asshole, Declan.”
“No. I’m sure you’re not. But you are kind of a dick.”
He laughs—a real one this time—adjusting his actual dick.
God, I’m drunk.
“Fair enough,” is his honest and amused response, but I’m quickly sidetracked by the heavy roar of his car coming to life beneath us. The rumbling of the engine travels straight through me, and it’s either that, or the way Jude is still staring at me, that has my heart flipping over itself inside my chest. “My apologies, though,” he states genuinely, and I’m genuinely surprised. “I’m not usually such a…”
“Dick?” I supply helpfully.
His grin cracks wider. I can tell he doesn’twantto be smiling, it’s just that he can’t help it.
Unfortunately for him, it’s infinitely more beautiful than his scowl. But it’s also like looking directly at the sun—too brilliant to take in for more than a few seconds—so I drag my gaze away, stilling the hand that rubs at my chest.
I haven’t donethatsince I left home, I realize, pulling the cool metal of my necklace between my fingers. I run my thumb over the embossed pendant. My small connection to Quinn.
God, I miss him.
I drop the necklace back down to my chest, fighting against the strength of Jude’s gravitational pull before my stare inevitably meets his yet again. He dips his gaze downward,eyeing the gold pendant at my chest, but he doesn’t ask any questions. He doesn’t say anything at all.
The quiet intensity of him is almost too much to handle.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, slicing through the silence and addressing his apology.I’m used to people being a dick to me for no reason,I don’t say, blowing out a breath that takes the thought along with it.