Page 22

What You Need – The Weeknd

Addie

A knock on my door rattles the walls at exactly 3:30 pm.

Nerves flutter around my stomach as I scramble to the door and rip it open. Declan leans against the doorframe, dark waves damp from a shower, blue eyes sparkling, and a bouquet of daisies in his grip.

He leans down and plants a searing kiss on my lips—one that causes my legs to wobble and my core to clench. With one hand on my waist and the other holding the daisies, he walks us backwards into the apartment, never breaking the kiss.

The door falls shut with a loud thud, and my eyes snap open briefly to see him toss the flowers on the hallway table.

“I missed you,” he says against my lips, guiding us deeper into the apartment until my back hits the kitchen counter and I’m lifted into the air and dropped onto the granite.

I squeak, but he steals the sound with another kiss, trailing his tongue along the seam of my lips and demanding entry. He moves to settle between my open legs, his erection digging into my thigh.

“No lead up?” I ask, but the question ends in a gasp when his hands roam under my work polo and over my stomach.

“Lead up?” He laughs, huskily, “Addie, baby, I don’t need lead up . One look at you and I’m ready to go.”

For emphasis, he grinds against me, and my breath hitches.

He trails soft, slow kisses along the column of my throat, down to my collarbone, and takes a moment to pull the thin flesh of my neck between his teeth. I slap his side.

“Do not give me a hickey! We aren’t seventeen.”

He pulls back, and his smile is devious. He hums, dragging a finger across the tender spot. “How else will everyone know you’re mine?”

“We tell them?” I ask incredulously.

“A lot less fun,” he counters, fingers playing with my polo. “Can I take this off?”

I nod and the polo is shed and dropped to the floor in seconds. Next is my deep emerald bra, though Declan watches longingly as it flutters to the kitchen floor.

My chest heaves with anticipation, and I tug at his t-shirt. He rips it over his head without a second thought. His muscles ripple as he lifts me off the benchtop and into the bedroom.

I’ve never been with anyone who could lift me so easily and make me feel small while doing so. I can’t say I hate the feeling.

He gently places me on the bed, and then kisses my breasts, down my stomach, and then back. His actions are slow and exploratory, like we have all the time in the world to learn each other. My fingers tangle in the strands of his hair as my skin pebbles.

Each kiss is softer than the last, and it sends shivers down my spine. A hot puff of air hits my left nipple, and I arch off the bed. It’s quickly soothed by his tongue, and pleasure begins to build in my lower stomach.

“Fuck, Addie,” he says against my skin, “You’re beautiful.”

A wave of intense heat flows over my body, and my entire skin flames to the color of a tomato.

He chuckles softly and leans up to place a gentle kiss on my lips. Fingers toy with the band of my joggers, and the pleasure intensifies when he slips a finger beneath the band and grazes over my panties.

“Soaked for me already.”

His middle finger slips beneath the lace and I moan, but he rips his hand away, and slowly brings the finger to his mouth and sucks. Beautiful blue eyes darken to the color of a stormy sea.

I save him the time and energy and take my pants off, so hot the flames flicking across my skin might consume me whole.

“Take your clothes off,” I demand, “Right. Now.” He recoils slightly from the strain in the command, but does as ordered, leaving him in nothing but his briefs. “Good boy,” I coo, and his eyes turn feral.

Oh, fuck. I struck gold .

“Are you going to be a good boy and fuck me right?” I throw the words out between us, and my heart thumps in my throat as his eyes flicker along my naked body, and he nods, the smallest incline of his head.

His fists shake with restraint, and there’s something so fucking powerful about the way he’s looking at me that I rise onto my knees and crawl across the bed.

Slowly, I place kisses up his abdomen and along his pectoral muscles. I climb the column of his neck, and his throat bobs. I nibble at his earlobe, and he shivers.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been properly fucked,” I continue, whispering in his ear. “I don’t want to be able to walk tomorrow without remembering you between my thighs.”

“Addie,” he moans, head falling forward when I trail a palm along his shaft. He pulses beneath me, and lust coils in my lower stomach.

“Take those off,” I command, gesturing to his underwear.

I turn to grab a condom from the nightstand, and when I look back, my throat dries and the condom tumbles from my grip. Holy fuck.

I am definitely going to feel this tomorrow. Wow. My brain short-circuits as he works his hand up and down the shaft, thumb rubbing the bead of pre-cum into the head.

“Sit against the headboard.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he purrs and leans against the tufted headboard. His cock juts against his stomach, and my pulse picks up as I crawl over him. He takes the condom and slips it on, and I grind against him.

No build-up is needed as I take him in my palm and line him up to my entrance. Slowly, I drop an inch, and the slight burn gives way to deep pleasure.

I roll my hips, taking him another inch, and his groan matches my moan—a symphony of pleasure.

A few more moves and I’m fully seated, panting against his chest. Every pulse and twitch is glorious agony, and I can feel the precipice of an orgasm. I’ve spent all day imagining this moment—it was all the foreplay I needed.

“You feel so fucking good,” Declan mutters, head falling to my shoulder. I tangle my fingers in his hair, then squeeze my muscles. He jerks and his teeth dig into the skin of my shoulder, and he soothes the sting with his tongue.

I huff a laugh and roll my hips, building the rhythm until heavy breaths and soft moans are the only sounds in the room.

Tighter and tighter the coil of pleasure pulls in my lower stomach, and when he pulls a nipple between his teeth and tugs, an orgasm rips through me. My head falls back as my vision blackens, and Declan lifts his hips, meeting me for every thrust.

I slowly return from the high, but Declan’s thumb finds my clit. “One more, Addie. I want to hear you come again.” He circles my clit. “Most fucking beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.”

His muscles twitch beneath me, but he’s relentless in his pursuit, and minutes later I’m falling into another orgasm, this one stronger than the last. He shudders a breath and follows, his own orgasm rolling through him in waves.

Every movement sets my nerves on fire, and I fall against his chest.

I guess I didn’t need to worry about his stamina.

We lay in the silence, and he rubs my back soothingly, fingers tangling in the ends of my hair.

“As beautiful as ever,” he whispers, and my heart soars.

He softens beneath me, and with gentle hands, he lifts me up and into the bathroom. He discards the condom, and I use the bathroom. Declan offers a warm towel, and after we clean up, he walks me back to bed and pulls me against his chest.

“Satisfied?” he asks, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

I trail a hand along his chest, up and down. “Very. I’ll get you another sticker later,” I joke.

He shakes his head in bemusement, but pulls me closer until our limbs are intertwined and our breaths match in time.

I could lie here forever with him.

He’s slowly consuming my daydreams—a life with him and Nora—and I don’t think I can avoid what’s happening. He’s a thief, stealing every piece of my heart that Nora doesn’t claim.

My phone rings and reality returns, banishing the dream that feels more like real life with each passing day.

“Addie, hi,” Mandy's voice holds an edge of panic, “I’m so sorry to call, but Nora’s throwing up and asking for you.”

I fly off the bed, and Declan jumps up, startled. “What’s wrong?”

“Nora.” It’s the only word I can work out.

Undiluted horror takes over his face, and he speeds around the room to get dressed. The phone is stuck in my death grip, and he pries it out of my hand and replaces it with clothing.

Guilt eats at me. She’s sick and alone, while I’m here lying in bed with Declan. The thought festers for a moment before Declan walks over and wraps me tightly in my arms.

“Don’t even start with that thought.” I guess the guilt is written all over my face. “Let’s go get our girl.”

He ushers me out the door without protest.

Our girl.

Mandy, Susie’s mom, opens the door, and her eyes are tired. She looks like she’s been to war. “Both of the girls have the bug,” she says, guiding us into the house and toward the couch where Nora and Susie are lying on opposite ends with plastic bags in their hands.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, running over to Nora and sliding the back of my palm against her head.

She’s warm but I don’t think she has an intense fever. Blue eyes crack open and her face crumples when she sees me. Her arms fly around my neck and she starts to cry.

I don’t blame her. The stomach flu is horrible for adults, but as a child who can’t fully regulate their emotions, it’s a different beast.

A hand lands on my shoulder, and I peer up at Declan, who surveys the scene. Nora’s pink backpack hangs off his shoulder, and he has her jacket and shoes hanging over his forearm.

“Decy,” Nora moans, then her eyes widen.

Oh, god. She’s going to puke all over me.

Before the inevitable destruction can occur, Declan moves at the speed of light and holds the trash bag in front of her. She sobs as she vomits, and each sound is a shallow cut.

Nora’s only ever had a small cold, and every sound twists my heart a bit more. The reek of vomit fills the air, and I dry heave, turning away so I don’t vomit myself. When she’s finished, she clings to my chest again, and I haul her out the door and into the car.

Declan opens the passenger side door, and I slip into the seat. He drops a small kiss on my temple. “She’s okay,” he assures me, like he understands every worry running through my mind. “It sucks, but she’s a trooper.”

I nod, trying to let the words settle me, but she moans, and my worry and guilt grow larger.

I’m a mess on the drive back to my apartment, leg bouncing and stomach in knots. I jump every time Nora rustles, and by the time Declan carries her into the apartment, I’m on edge.

He gently sets her down on the couch, and when she’s settled, he turns around and pulls me into the small bathroom. The yellow light illuminates the concern in his deep blue eyes, but panic builds, and I move to the door.

Declan steps in front of the doorframe, grabs my hips, and drops me onto the countertop. It’s not rational, but every second Nora’s on the couch without me is a moment she may need me, but I’m not there.

“Addie.” His sharp voice cuts through the panic. “I need you to take a minute for yourself.” He scans my face, then trails a palm along my cheek. “She’s feeding off your energy.”

“I have to take care of her.”

“Who takes care of you, then?” he asks softly. The silence between us is heavy, and a tear slips out. He swipes it away with his thumb. “Let me take care of you— both of you. You don’t need to shoulder it all on your own. Let me in. Give me some of the burden.”

“And who takes care of you?” I throw back the words, a flimsy shield for my heart, which has slowly grown to make space for him.

His eyes soften with vulnerability. “I’ve always taken care of myself.”

“No more,” I say resolutely, taking his face between my palms. “For either of us.”

He nods, and I place a gentle kiss on his lips. The moment only lasts a few seconds, but when the kiss ends, he releases me.

“Take a bath or read a book,” he says, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Declan slips out of the bathroom, and the only sound is the rush of blood in my ears.

I take his advice and turn the water so hot that steam pours into the room and pour Nora’s bubble bath into the water. When the top layer is covered in strawberry scented bubbles, I sink into the water down to my shoulders and lay my head against the cool tile rim of the tub.

I’m a bit too tall for the bath, and my knees pop out of the water as I sink as low as possible, but the stress and worry trapped in my muscles slowly leaks into the water until my body is pruned and I feel like an al-dente pasta noodle.

The water drains while I put lotion on and slip on a pair of pajamas.

Declan and Nora are in the living room, right where I left them.

Nora sits on the couch, hunched over a large mixing bowl. Declan works to tie her hair back away from her face while she retches into the bowl. She’s miserable, and when she stops, he takes the bowl and cleans it out before handing it back to her.

He has no idea I’m watching, but my heart swells as he whispers soft words in her ear and rubs her back in soothing circles.

The thought strikes unexpectedly. I trust him with our lives. My life. Nora’s life.

He would do what was best for us, before what was best for him. The last thing he should be doing is taking care of a kid with a stomach bug, especially during the season when it could cost him a game, but here he is, taking care of my daughter like she’s his own.

Taking care of me, too.

I would never worry about leaving Nora with him, because I know he would protect her with his life if needed.

“I don’t feel good, Decy,” Nora says miserably.

“I know, baby, but the power punch will help.” He lifts a red Gatorade to her lips and helps her take small sips.

She heaves again, and the red liquid flies into the bowl, and it takes everything I have not to puke myself, but he leaps into action and coaches her through the discomfort. Nora lets out a soft wail, and I take a step, but pause when Declan scoops her into his arms and holds her against his chest.

He paces around the room with her, whispering, and tears stream down my face as I watch them.

Two pieces of my heart.

I swipe away the tears and move into view. Declan smiles softly when he notices my presence, and Nora’s breathing slows as he paces the room.

“Sweetheart,” he says quietly, smoothing the matted hair away from Nora’s sticky forehead. “We have to change into our jammies.” She lets out a small mewl in protest, burrowing deeper into his chest, and he sighs. “Her room?”

I guide him to the back of the apartment and open the door to Nora’s room. I push the stuffed animals off her pink comforter and he lays her down on the bed.

“I’ll give you a minute to help her get into some clothes.”

He slips out of the room, and I untangle her limbs from her sweat drenched clothing and tug a large nightgown over her head. She barely moves as I change her, and use baby wipes to cool down her skin.

I rise on soft feet and move toward the door when her words stop me in my tracks.

“Daddy?” she thrashes in the sheets, arms flailing. “Decy!”

I’m rooted to the ground like a stone statue, fighting to pull in a breath, but Declan rushes into the room and crouches beside the bed. “I’m right here, Nora.”

“Don’t go,” she whispers, and he doesn’t. He slides into the bed beside her and holds her until she’s in a deep sleep.

After a while, he manages to untangle himself, and I follow him out of the room, stunned by Nora’s words.

It’s clear he didn’t hear her, but I did, and it confirmed something that frightens the shit out of me—she’s growing to love him and putting him in positions he’s not required to fill.

Her heart is massive, and she’s made space for Declan in a way I could never have expected.

I’m walking around in a daze, and a large palm grazes the slope of my spine. “Go to bed,” Declan whispers, placing a soft kiss on my temple, “I’ll pick up.”

I don’t have the words to refuse him, so I nod. “Are you going to stay?”

“Would you like me to stay?”

“Yes,” I respond.

Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever, I think.