Page 26

“Yeah, it happens,” Bailey said, like it is no big deal. “I see the doorknob broke again,” she says, staring at the knob on the floor.
“Again?” Declan asks, his demeanor back to that serious, stone face I always see, what I have become used to.
“Oh, yeah, it breaks all the time,” Bailey tells him.
“And your landlord hasn’t fixed it?” he questions.
Bailey and I exchange a look. “Tim isn’t the kind of guy who cares about really anything,” I explain to him.
“That’s so?” he says, and he looks angry. Not that his angry face is much different from his everyday face, but I can see a slight change, and his voice seems colder. “Well, I will fix it today.”
“You don’t have to—”
He meets my eyes and I lose the ability to speak. I suddenly remember the way he crouched by my bed last night and stroked my hair. And now the way his stare locks on to me, I feel something straight to my core. “I want to, Vivian,” he tells me.
I nod. “Okay,” I say, “but I have to work at eleven, and Bailey will be sleeping so today may not work,” I ramble out nervously.
“You can’t work today,” Declan says to me. “You’re sick.”
“I was sick last night but I feel much better now.”
“You were sick?” Bailey asks, now looking at me with pity. “Did you get that stomach thing everyone has been getting?”
“I think so,” I say. “But it wasn’t too bad—”
“You threw up six times and couldn’t walk to bed,” Declan points out, crossing his arms over his chest. I try to ignore the way his biceps flex tightly against his white tee, but it proves difficult.
“So how did you get to bed?” Bailey asks. “Wait, how did you get home from class? You didn’t take the bus, did you?”
“No, I brought her home. Then I carried her to bed.”
“Thanks again,” I say, looking down and feeling Bailey’s eyes bore into me. I can feel her practically vibrating with excitement to get the entire story. “You didn’t have to stay; I feel bad you slept on the couch.” I say this to make sure Bailey knows he did not sleep in bed with me.
“I broke the doorknob, or at least I thought I had, and I didn’t want to leave you with an open door,” Declan says.
There is a silence where the three of us just stand there, and then finally Bailey dramatically yawns. “Well, I’m beat, so I am off to bed. Nice to meet you, Declan. Night, Viv, see you later,” she says to me and winks. I have no idea what she means by the wink, but I am sure it’s her dirty mind on overdrive.
I follow Bailey with my eyes, and once the door is shut, I turn and meet Declan’s gaze. “Thank you again for last night,” I say with a small smile. I want to give him a bright smile but I am suddenly very nervous around him, and I also remember how I looked in the mirror. I’m not sure the smile would help right now.
“I,”—he stops and licks his lower lip then clears his throat—“I’m glad I could help,” he finally says. “And I will be back to fix that door.”
“You don’t have—”
“I want to, Vivian,” he says, taking a step toward me. He’s so close now I have to lean my head back to look up at him. Again I am caught up by the comfort I feel in his stare. Something draws me in and holds me there, and I feel a shift in the world around me.
A vibrating sound breaks through, and Declan takes a step back from me and pulls out his phone, answering the call. “I’m on my way,” is all he says and then he hangs up. He stalks to mykitchen sink a few feet away and grabs his sweatshirt then heads to the door. “I’ll be back,” he says as he walks through it, and I am left standing there trying to figure out what that just was.
“Ho-ly shit,” Bailey says from behind me, sending me jumping in the air.
“What?” I ask, turning to find her standing in the doorway of the bedroom.
She looks at me like I am crazy. “Come on, Viv! That is some serious sexual tension right there!”
I stare at her and then roll my eyes and laugh. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“No, I am not fucking kidding,” she says, coming over and grabbing me by my upper arms. “The way he looked at you, wow,”—she blows out a breath and starts to fan herself with her hand—“so hot.”
I open my mouth to tell her to get over herself, but curiosity gets the better of me. “How did he look at me?”