Page 34

Vibes

Abi

I could tell he was interested in more.

I wasn’t thinking that in a cocky way, like I thought THE Declan Powell wanted to wife me up, but we had good chemistry and it felt like he wanted to explore it.

Which terrified me.

Because I felt all the same chemistry pulls, dear God so much , and I was being swallowed by the urge to absolutely throw myself into it and not even worry about coming up for air.

But I knew my heart couldn’t take him moving on. I knew my heart couldn’t take him losing interest. It’d be bad enough to eventually lose my friend Dex, but the idea of completely falling into a relationship with him, something deeper, much more passionate—and losing that ?

It was too much for me.

“Sorry, Dexxie,” I said, injecting a teasing tone into my voice.

“I get what you’re saying, but I absolutely do not think we should do that.

I like you a lot, but I have no desire to be in a relationship with anyone right now.

So if we do this and find we’re interested in more, that’s a big fat fail because I don’t want to be.

So I’d prefer we just stick to being friends. ”

“Okay,” he said, his jaw flexing and unflexing as he just watched me for a moment. My heart was in my throat until he said, “Well, if at any time you start to change your mind, you let me know.”

“I will,” I said, downing the rest of my wine. It was intoxicating, knowing this beautiful man would be interested in exploring something with me.

That was some heady shit.

Some heady shit I definitely could not handle.

We walked around the city after dinner, Declan totally humoring me and letting me walk for hours. I was obsessed with the way Manhattan really was the city that never sleeps. No matter what time it was, there were people everywhere and I didn’t want to miss a minute of it.

And instead of being bored, like a local who didn’t understand my obsession, he seemed into it, just like me.

And he opened up like an actual friend, telling ridiculous stories and laughing at mine.

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” he said, outraged for me after I told him a long, rambling tale about the time my mom thought it was a good idea for us to move in with the mother of a guy she was dating when I was twelve. “The old lady was a stranger, right?”

“ Yes ,” I said, shaking my head. “And she had these birds that terrified me, in addition to making me sneeze twenty-four-seven. I’m fairly certain my teachers thought I had a monthlong cold because of my red nose and swollen eyes.”

“You only stayed there for a month?”

“A month exactly,” I said, shaking my head at the memory. “Thank heaven for those god-awful birds or we might never have left.”

He laughed. “So the allergies worked for good when it came to your mom’s dating life?”

“Sometimes,” I said, but then Doug’s face popped into my head and I grimaced.

“Oh, dear God, what’d I say?” he said, bumping my hip with his and sliding his fingers through mine.

I looked at him, surprised that he was holding my hand, and he gave me the kindest smile. “Why do you look so sad now, Mariano?”

I gave my head a little shake. “No, it’s a pathetic little story.”

“Tell me,” he said softly, looking at me like he really wanted to know. “Unless it’s too much for you and still hurts.”

That made something in my chest swell, or maybe grow, because what hurt a little bit was when he was so careful with me.

“Okay, so my mom dated this guy named Doug, right?” I said, clearing my throat and looking down the block in front of me, not at his face.

“He was perfect . Good-looking, but more than that, he had a good job and was so incredibly nice to me. Like, he planted hydrangeas on his patio just because he knew I wasn’t allergic to them. He was that kind of nice, right?”

“Right,” he said, squeezing his fingers tighter between mine.

“He had a really great apartment, and I think my mom was counting the days until we could move in with him. Doug was literally the answer to her prayers.”

I could still picture the clean, bright apartment that always smelled like dryer sheets and sunshine. He used to let me play with the yoga balls in the fitness room when he ran on the treadmill, and sometimes he’d even take me to the apartment pool and let me splash around with him.

I loved Doug.

“Then he did something impulsive and sweet. He bought a puppy—a husky named Gaia. He said he’d always wanted one, and now I could play with her every time I came over.”

“Oh, shit,” Dex said.

“Oh, shit, indeed,” I said, shaking my head. “My mother, being my mother, thought that perhaps since Doug kept his apartment so clean and I’d never been around a husky before, maybe Gaia wouldn’t bother my asthma.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he muttered, sounding incredulous, and it made me smile in spite of the shitty recollection.

“So we’d go over to his place, I’d love all over that gorgeous dog, and we’d have to leave because my eyes would almost swell shut or I’d have to take my inhaler too much.

My mom was sure I’d just grow a tolerance to it—she wanted to see Doug but she also couldn’t leave me at home alone.

So, rinse and repeat until the time they had to call an ambulance because the inhaler just wouldn’t cut it anymore. ”

“Dear God ,” he said, stopping me with the jerk of my hand, in the middle of the crowded sidewalk. He looked down at me with sheer outrage on his face. “Obviously you were okay, but holy shit, Abi. It could’ve gone so much worse.”

My throat was tight and my eyes were scratchy as Dex raged for little Abigail.

His reaction weakened my knees and made me feel kind of lightheaded, because even though he seemed angry, there was a softness in his eyes that told me he understood it was about so much more than a random allergic reaction.

It soothed something in me, the way he seemed to get it.

“It gets worse,” I said, tugging his hand to start walking again.

“Worse than near-death asthma attacks?”

I nodded and swallowed. “Yep. When I went to sleep at the hospital, Doug was there, holding my hand among the balloons and candy bouquets he’d bought for me in the gift shop, but when I woke up, it was just my mother bawling in the chair by the window.”

He stopped again, but this time he moved me closer to the building we were passing, out of foot traffic. “Why was she crying?”

I bit down on my lower lip, surprised this story still had the power to make me feel this sad. “Because Doug chose Gaia.”

Dex’s jaw moved back and forth, like he was grinding his teeth together. “What?”

“Apparently he’d just always wanted a husky since he was a little boy.

He felt like he couldn’t give her away because it would be like giving away his child.

Gaia was like a child to him, like his baby…

,” I said, trailing off because I didn’t want to say the rest, that the man I’d wanted to call my father had chosen a puppy over me.

“I hate Doug.” Dex looked down at me and said with ferocity, “He would’ve been the shittiest father, Abi. You dodged a bullet. Doug was never going to be good enough for you, and Gaia is the best thing that ever could’ve happened to you.”

I blinked back tears and was surprised to feel myself smiling. “Gaia is the best thing that ever happened to me?”

Declan swallowed, bringing my eyes down to that strong neck, and then he said, “I’m sure of it.”

As someone who didn’t consider herself a hugger, it was shocking how natural it felt to wrap my arms around him and pull him into the tightest hug I had in me.

As if knowing another second of heartfelt emotion might break me, he murmured into my ear, “I cannot believe you’re hitting on me like this, Mariano.”

That made me laugh in spite of everything, so I pulled back and said, “You wish, Powell.”

When we finally got back to his apartment building, just after midnight, he turned on The Godfather because I’d never seen it and he thought that was criminal. I went into the bedroom and changed into pajamas, and when I came out, he’d changed into sweats.

He looked so good in casual wear that it was a little distracting.

But once we started watching the movie, I couldn’t stay awake. No matter how hard I tried, I kept falling asleep. I was exhausted from the day, and staying awake seemed nearly impossible.

But I refused to go to bed because too soon I’d wake up and it’d be time to go.

I didn’t fight him when he shifted my body so I was lying on the couch with my head resting on his shoulder. He seemed comfortable in the corner of the huge sectional, and I was too tired to deny myself the pillow that was his body.

Apparently I fell sound asleep, because the next thing I knew, Declan was quietly saying my name.

“Wake up, Abi,” he said, his deep voice soft and soothing. “Time to go to bed.”

“Shhhhh,” I said without opening my eyes, not wanting him to move because I was so damn comfortable.

He didn’t say anything so I thought he was going to stay, but then I felt myself being gently lifted.

“Dex,” I said, looking up at that face as he picked me up like I weighed nothing, like I was a sleeping toddler he was carrying off to bed. “What are you doing?”

“Shhhhh, sleepyhead,” he said, carrying me toward the guest room where I was staying. I felt absurdly relaxed in his arms as he went into the room and set me gently on the bed.

“Thank you,” I said, feeling sleepy and cozy as I nestled under the covers and pulled them up to my armpits.

“I kind of want those pajamas,” he said, teasing me. “They’ve grown on me.”

“I’m fairly certain they would never button over your chest,” I said.

“That’s probably true,” he said, looking down at his chest. “Was your ex a weenie?”

“I don’t know if I’d say ‘weenie,’ but definitely not as big as you.”

“So I win,” he said proudly.

“This is not a competition.”

“Isn’t it, though?” he asked.

“No, it’s not.” I laughed, mostly because we were only friends and we’d never even discussed the topic of my ex before.

Which was good because it was really a non-topic.

The last guy I dated was nice and we had a cordial time together and slept together twice before he said he was still in love with his ex, and I realized it didn’t even matter to me.

His eyes roamed over my face, and I knew he was about to leave me alone.

And I didn’t want to be alone.

“Can I just thank you again for this trip?” I said, because a hundred thank-yous weren’t enough. “I had the best day with you today.”

“It was a great day,” he agreed, and I felt like he was speaking carefully, like he was purposely holding back.

I bit my lip. I should’ve held back, too, but the words came out anyway. “Do you ever think about our first kiss?”

He looked surprised at first, but then his mouth slid into a slow smile. “Hell, yes, all the time.”

“You do ?” I said around a laugh, shocked that he was being so honest.

“How could I not?” he said, stacking his hands on top of his head as he smiled down at me. “We both went in for this big Hollywood kiss but got completely lost in the realness of what a kiss is.”

“?‘Of what a kiss is’?” I asked, almost breathlessly, my toes curling underneath the blanket.

His green eyes were hot. “I got lost in the softness of your lips and the smell of your perfume and the breathy little sound you made when I dared to use my tongue—all the physical magic of a kiss. I forgot about reasons and purpose and just wanted to stay in there and keep going, y’know?”

That made me grin. “I wanted to ‘stay in there and keep going,’ too, for the record.”

“Listen, Mariano. Is there a reason why you’re bringing this up while we’re here in the bedroom?” He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Does this seem like a good idea to you?”

“Well, no,” I said. “But if I was trying to seduce you, for the record, I’d want to do it in your big, fancy bedroom.”

“Oh, do you have complaints about the guest room?” he teased, his eyes twinkling with boyish mischief. “Is it not big enough for you?”

“I’m just saying that your room is fantastic.”

“You know you’re welcome to it,” he said, but not in a creepy way. He was literally talking about trading rooms. “I’m happy to swap and let you have it.”

But it’s like the mention of the kiss, sprinkled around the idea of his bedroom, instantly charged the air. The space between us suddenly felt like it was crackling with electricity.

I looked at his mouth, thinking a million inappropriate things, before forcing my eyes up to his.

I cleared my throat and said, “Thanks, but I have a wicked case of the night stabs and you don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“I definitely do not,” he said, swallowing. “Night stabbings are overrated.”

There was something about the way he was standing over the bed, smiling down at me, that amped the intensity.

I cleared my throat again and said, “Right. I always say that.”

“You do?” he asked, his eyes all over me. “You always say that?”

“At least ten times a day,” I managed, wondering if it was possible to spontaneously combust from the heat of a gaze.

“Yeah, same,” he said, dropping his arms to his sides. “Well, good night, then.”

“Good night, then.”

I let out my breath when the door closed behind him, because I was having trouble breathing and it had nothing to do with my asthma.

I wanted him.

Holy, holy shit, I wanted him but not just for a good time in that wall-of-windows bedroom of his. No, I wanted him… around . Like, for an extended period of time, in my life and in my bed and on my phone when he was traveling.

I was head over heels in something with Declan Powell, damn it.

So what the hell was I supposed to do about it?