Page 19

Chapter 19

Hannah

My heart nearly stops at the sight of him, my breath catching in my throat. As our eyes lock, Declan pushes away from the building and starts to cross the street toward me, moving with an easy confidence that makes my pulse race in a way it never did with Aaron.

Was he waiting for me all this time?

I shake my head at the thought because it sounds crazy. Sure, he knew when and where I was going to be meeting Aaron tonight because he overheard my call with him at the studio the other day, but that doesn’t mean he came here because of me.

Does it?

As he steps over the curb and approaches with that irresistible half-smile, something clicks in my brain. Him being here and the restaurant closing aren’t isolated incidents. I don’t have the proof for it—not yet anyway—but the more I think about it, the more positive I am that Declan had something to do with this. There isn’t another reason that comes close to making sense. But would he really go that far just to crash my not-a-date with Aaron?

“It was you, wasn’t it?” I ask without preamble, and he shrugs, chuckling.

“I hated the idea of you being out with another man, date or not,” he says, his amber and brown eyes flashing in the dim light from the restaurant’s exterior. “And if you didn’t want to be there either, I figured I’d put both of us out of our misery.”

I can’t help but laugh at that. It’s a totally ridiculous thing to have done, but he’s right. I didn’t want to be there at all. I just went to make my mother and everyone else happy and get them to stop hounding me about giving Aaron another chance. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Declan that when he asked me directly the other day, but just like he always seems to do, he saw right through me.

What was it he said? Something about how my body tells the truth?

“What did you do, call in a bomb threat or something?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Not quite. I just called in a few costly favors for a last-minute reservation—for the entire restaurant.”

My jaw drops with shock, then a laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it. Declan joins me after a few seconds, his deep chuckle mingling with mine in the air.

“I’m glad you aren’t upset about it,” he says.

I purse my lips. “I mean, I am a little miffed I didn’t get dinner.”

Declan grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah, sorry. I should probably make that up to you. Can I take you somewhere a little less busy?”

Something about the way he’s looking at me—like I’m the only person in the world worth seeing—makes it impossible to refuse.

“Okay,” I whisper. “What were you thinking of?”

“I’ve heard about this great local bar not too far from here that I think you’ll like. Want to give it a shot?”

“As long as they have good food, I won’t say no. I’m starving.”

He smiles. “Then follow me.”

We walk to where his bike is parked down the street, and he puts his helmet on my head, grinning as he pulls it on. Then he climbs on and looks over at me expectantly, jerking his chin in invitation for me to get on the bike too. I swallow, my heartbeat picking up a little as I lift one leg over the bike, settling into place behind him.

My body presses against his, my thighs resting against his thick, muscled ones, and I let out a slow breath as I wrap my arms around his waist. I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s kind of reckless, and I know it is—not riding the bike, but doing it with Declan .

But part of me is getting tired of caring about that.

I’ve spent so long being the responsible one, the careful one. Just once, I want to follow where my heart leads instead of my head.

There are plenty of people around who could’ve recognized one of us or seen us leaving together, but I’m hoping they were too distracted by the restaurant’s sudden closure to have noticed. But even if they did and the word somehow got back to my dad, I could always just tell him that Declan was there too and offered me a ride home to be nice.

“You okay?” Declan asks, twisting around to look at me over his shoulder.

I smile and nod at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just having a hard time believing this happened tonight,” I say, gesturing around us to encompass… well, everything.

He chuckles warmly and turns the key in the ignition to start the bike, making it rumble to life beneath us. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring you back to pick up your car when we’re done. Like I said, we aren’t going far.”

“Does that mean this was all part of your plan too?”

He makes a show of zipping his lips, then pulls the bike away from the curb as I tighten my grip on him. He navigates us a few blocks away from the restaurant, then pulls to a stop outside a bar with a neon sign hanging in one of the windows that reads Faceoff . It looks like a sports bar, and although some women might expect something more upscale after Altitude, this place—unpretentious and real—speaks to me in a way fine dining never could.

“I had a feeling this might be more your style,” Declan says as he kills the bike’s engine.

The fact that he guessed that about me without my having to explain warms something deep inside my chest. I tug off the helmet and return it to him, and we walk to the door together. Declan holds it for me with a gentlemanly flourish, waving me inside.

Unlike Altitude, this bar is quiet and has far fewer people in it, which is perfectly fine with me. Maybe it’s because of my connection to hockey through my dad, but there’s something about a sports bar that’s always felt homey and comfortable to me.

“Welcome to Faceoff. Have a seat wherever you’d like.” A young male bartender who looks like a college student lifts his chin at us in greeting.

We choose a booth close to the bar to make it easier for him to pull double duty since it doesn’t look like they have a waitress on shift. “What can I get you to drink?” he asks when he arrives at the table and drops off a couple of paper menus.

“Whiskey sours?” Declan suggests, his eyes meeting mine with a knowing look that reminds me of that first night at the club. I smile and nod at him. “Two whiskey sours, then. Thanks.”

“Coming right up,” the bartender says. “Oh, and we’re on a limited menu for food tonight. Business has been slow.”

“No problem. I’m sure I can find something,” I say and pick up one of the menus to browse it. It’s mostly standard fare, burgers and chicken wings and whatnot, but I’m not complaining. I’d much rather have some comfort food like that right now than some hunk of expensive, overly-dressed-up salmon.

I watch Declan over the top of my menu as he scans his, and the urge to thank him for rescuing me from Aaron tugs at the tip of my tongue, but I hesitate because I’m not sure if I should say anything. I still don’t really know what’s going on between us, and I know this probably won’t be the last time I have some sort of interaction with Aaron so I don’t want to give Declan the wrong idea.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks without looking up at me.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on, I noticed you watching me. And you got all quiet. You get this little crease between your eyebrows when you’re overthinking something.”

I let out a little laugh, surprised that he’s somehow picked up on yet another one of my habits. On the one hand, I can’t believe he’s so in tune with me already that he’d notice something like that, but on the other, I’m glad he is. A lot of people in my life are interested in what I’m doing, but it often feels like it’s because they have their own agenda.

There’s not a doubt in my mind that my mother and my father care about me, but lately it’s felt like they’re only paying attention to what’s going on in my life because they care more about seeing me become a lawyer and get married—preferably to someone well-off and “worthy” of me, whatever that means—than they care about how I’m actually doing. Aaron is obviously angling hard for the job, and as our less-than-comfortable dinner earlier proved to me, he’s much more interested in how I’d complement him than being with me for me .

But Declan isn’t like that at all.

He’s refreshingly genuine, like he’s here spending time with me because he really wants to be, not because he’s trying to butter me up for anything or get something out of me other than getting to know me. It’s both exhilarating and terrifying to be seen so clearly. There’s no denying I’m attracted to him—I couldn’t even if I tried—but that attraction freaks me out too because it feels like the more I give in to it, the more dangerous this thing between us gets.

I can’t keep toeing this line forever, because I know eventually one of us is going to do something to screw it up.

“See what I mean?” He cocks his head to one side. “You got all quiet again.”

“Oh. Um…” I clear my throat. “I was just going to thank you for saving me from a bad dinner, that’s all.”

He gives me a smile that makes my stomach flip. “Anytime. Glad I could be of help.”

Mercifully, the bartender returns with our drinks and slides them across the table to us, saving me from myself. I take a much-needed sip and smile as it tingles down the back of my throat.

“Are we ready to order, or do you still need a few minutes?” the bartender asks.

“I’m ready if you are,” Declan says, and I nod, so he gestures for me to go ahead.

“I’ll have the chicken tenders, please.”

“Excellent choice. What kind of dip do you want for those?”

“Honey mustard.”

“And are fries okay?”

“They’re perfect,” I tell the bartender and pass him my menu.

“And what about you, my guy?”

“I’ll do the burger and fries. All the toppings are fine.”

“Got it, I’ll put everything in. Shouldn’t be long,” the bartender says and ducks back behind the bar to put in our order. Declan runs a finger up and down the side of his glass, leaving streaks in the condensation.

“So was it really that bad?” he asks, and I laugh.

“It wasn’t the worst night I’ve ever had, but yeah, it wasn’t going anywhere good. Every time I tried to share something he just turned the conversation back to himself.”

Declan winces. “Ugh, I hate when guys do that crap, especially to women. Did he even ask you anything about you?”

“Yeah, but I’d barely get the words out before he was talking about himself again, going on about how he’s going to be made partner at his firm and we’re going to be a power couple and all of this other crap.”

“Sounds like a real gem. I’m even more glad I pulled the plug for you.”

“My thanks were sincere,” I say and raise my glass to him before I take another sip. He raises his back and drinks as well.

“You feel like playing a little game?” he asks when he’s finished.

My heart skips a beat because I have no idea what direction he’s taking this. But my mind does an instantaneous job of jumping to conclusions and possibilities, and heat blooms in my core.

“That depends on the game,” I say carefully.

Declan smirks, his gorgeous brown eyes gleaming. Suddenly, it feels much hotter in the room, like everything just got much closer and is pressing in on me. His eyes travel over me with deliberate slowness, and butterflies flap through my stomach as I wait for his answer.

“How about a little Truth or Dare?”

I laugh, more out of surprise than anything else. The idea is silly and probably a little dangerous, but then again, so many crazy things have happened tonight that I figure it can’t really get much worse. And part of me is more than a little intrigued by the prospect of using the game as a neutral excuse to learn more about him.

“You know what? You’re on.”