Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
He’d just started to work open the button and zipper on my pants when his cell phone went off, and he cursed. “Shit. I have to get this.” He tugged his phone out of his pocket, stepping away and giving me his back as he answered and walked across the room.
I heard someone yelling in the background, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.
“Jesus Christ. I was just fucking there,” Declan replied.
His father? Was it him on the other end of the line?
Whoever it was yelled something else, and Declan said, “Open the windows. I’m busy, and it’s an hour drive.” He listened for a moment.
I was caught between wanting to walk over and comfort him and giving Declan privacy. But when he dropped his head back, looked at the ceiling, and sighed, I couldn’t stop myself from going to him. I slipped in front of him.
He shook his head, but I whispered, “We can go do whatever you need and then go home.” I could still hear the voice of who I assumed was his dad, complaining loudly through the phone.
He groaned. “I’ll be right there.” Without a word, Declan ended the call. “You can go home. I’ll meet you after, and we can finish what we started.”
He moved toward me, trying to be playful, but I could tell he was upset. Whatever it was, I didn’t want Declan to deal with it on his own. “I’ll go with you, and then we can go home together.” I wanted to be that person for Dec. I wanted to support him and make sure he knew he was never alone.
“It’s a long drive, and my dad is an angry, verbally abusive asshole. Believe me, you don’t want to go.”
“I don’t think you do either, but you’re doing it. You’re my boyfriend—your word, so you can’t take it back now. That means we handle stuff together. I want to be there for you, Declan.”
“You shouldn’t have—”
“I want to. Unless you’d rather not. Or if you want Parker or one of the other guys, that’s fine. I don’t want you to feel obligated to take me, but if this is difficult for you, I don’t want you to be alone.” I wished it would be me. I would do anything to be that person for him.
And then…then he fucking smiled, and it made my heart soar. I would never get used to Declan looking at me that way.
“It’s not that kind of thing. I’m used to his shit. I’m just pissed he interrupted me before I could thoroughly devour you.”
“I’m not going anywhere. We can always do that later.”
He chuckled, before sobering. “He’s…a mess. He’s not nice. I don’t know why I do things for him. The guys don’t get it. I don’t get it either, but…”
“But you care about people. That’s just who you are. Let’s go take care of whatever he needs, and then we can get naked and start the devouring.” I waggled my brows.
Declan grinned. “Let’s hurry the fuck up.” He wrapped a hand around my wrist and dragged me out of the office.
We took my car. He said he could leave his Jeep at Driftwood. Declan gave me the address, and I typed it into my navigation. The drive took a little longer than he’d said because of traffic. I couldn’t help wondering if he regretted letting me tag along.
He’d called himself a loner before. I could see it in some ways, but even more tonight. Declan was there for his friends. He would do anything for them. He always had their backs, yet when it came to him, he preferred to fight his battles alone.
But this time he was letting me support him. I hoped like hell that meant something.
He asked me to make a quick stop at a store, which I did. I waited in the car, and he came out a few minutes later with a couple of fans. Was that what his father needed from him, and if so, why couldn’t it wait until morning?
His father lived in a small, slightly run-down place in Lawndale, with faded paint that looked like it needed some TLC. When I opened the car door, I wondered if Declan was going to tell me to wait there, but he just sighed and didn’t say a word. I took one of the boxes and let Declan lead the way.
The second we stepped onto the porch, the door swung open. “I can’t even open the goddamned windows. They’re stuck. It’s hot as hell in here,” the man complained. I could tell he was younger than he appeared, most of his wear and tear likely from living a hard life. He wore a T-shirt with something spilled down the front, needed a shave, and clearly hadn’t combed his hair in who knew how long.