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“You don’t like to talk about yourself. You say it’s because you don’t know me. And I figured maybe if I opened up more, you would feel more comfortable about opening up more.”
Wow. I feel like I’ve been bitch-slapped, and I earned it. “That is nice,” I tell him. It just slips out—it was just a thought running through my head that I had planned to keep there.
He huffs out, “I’m not generally called nice.”
“Well, you do sort of give off a vibe, but I agree it’s not nice,” I say and mentally slap myself. His niceties have given me a horrible case of verbal diarrhea.
Declan raises an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
I take a large sip of hot chocolate and swallow. “Like, you seem unapproachable,” I say once my mouth is empty, the words just flying out. I take another forkful of cake to keep the words inside, but can’t even taste its chocolatey goodness as I try to ignore Declan’s heavy stare.
“I think that’s a nice way to say asshole,” he says.
I feel my eyes widen as I meet his gaze. I shrug and drop my eyes back down to school my face as I choke down my cake.
Declan shrugs. “It’s the vibe I go for, but you’re the first to tell me it’s working.”
I laugh as I look at the table and bite my bottom lip to stop myself. A calloused finger slides under my chin and tips my face up. I feel my bottom lip spring free from my teeth and I am trapped by Declan’s stare.
“I like when you tell me what you think because it’s like you let a little bit of who you are out,” he says, his blue-gray eyes looking into mine. “You seem to need to keep a lot of you hidden away from the world. So when you tell me what you think about me or class or anything, you let me peek in for just a minute. And it makes me want more of you, Vivian.”
My name coming out of Declan’s mouth should be listed on the tablets Moses brought down from the mountain. It makes me want to spill my soul and beg him to let me be his. It makes my pussy clench and feel empty and long to be filled.
Declan lets go of my chin and sits back. I close my mouth and swallow, looking around the coffee shop for a moment to gather myself. His words make something spark inside of me.Something that has me wanting something I never have before. I want Declan to understand me.
Finally, I look up into his beautiful eyes, but the scrutiny is too intense and I have to look away before I speak. “Did you have a good life?” I ask him, then realize that isn’t very clear. “Like when you were growing up? Were your parents good to you?”
“I had a good childhood, yeah,” Declan replies hesitantly.
“See, I didn’t,” I say, meeting his gaze to try and drill my point home. “I spent my life mostly in foster care. So to talk about it is hard for me, because it brings back stuff I don’t want to think about or remember. Because my past was hard, and it was pretty bad most of the time.”
Declan studies me with his hard stare, captivating me in it. It’s hard and concerned and questioning. I get all of those emotions from his eyes. I feel like I am trapped in another dimension just staring into them. Then he looks down and his gaze is gone, and I feel disoriented without my connection to him.
Until a fork is pressed to my lips. “So you like chocolate cake?” Declan asks, his eyebrows arched.
I feel my lips part and I nod.
He gets me.
Once we finish the cake and the drinks, we leave the coffee shop and start walking to the parking area near our class. We’re almost there when I see the bus coming. “Well, there is my ride,” I say to Declan, turning to the bus stop area, but I stop when Declan grabs my hand.
“Let me take you home,” he says, angling his head to the parking lot.
I open my mouth to say, “you don’t have to,” or “that’s okay,” but I realize that I want him to. And so instead I say, “Sure,” and smile at him.
Declan holds the door open for me, and I slide inside his car, really taking it in. The last time I was here I was sick, so I hadn’t gotten a chance to fully appreciate it.
Declan slides in and we take off toward my apartment. I make small talk with him about his car, and before we know it we are at my place. My heart sinks at saying goodbye.
“Thanks for the lift,” I say to him, grabbing my bag and opening the door.
“Good night, Vivian,” Declan says, his eyes glued to me as I get out, and I can feel them still on me as I head out the door of my building.
I wave before heading in, and wait until I’m in my apartment to release the stupid smile I’d been holding back the entire way home.
Chapter 19
VIVIAN