If he wants to be happy, he’s going to have to let me in.
“I would,” I reply softly.
Declan’s hands rest on my hips as he kisses my neck, making me groan and pause my hand on the horse. This intimate affection always throws me for a loop. When did this happen? When did we go from friends to friends who have sex to lovers?
I wish I could pinpoint the moment. Does he still think me his best friend when he kisses me like this?
“You know…” I say as he turns me around and presses my back to the wood fence. Moire loses interest in us and slowly walks away. “I have a big premiere in October. I can bring a date.”
He kisses my throat, licking a line from my collarbone to my chin. “You want me to go to a Hollywood premier, Shakespeare?”
“There’s no one else I’d rather take,” I reply with a whimper as he nibbles on my jaw.
“I’m not sure I’m cut out for that.”
I consider dropping it, because that’s what I always do. I don’t press the issues or argue for more. Never rock the boat.
What has that ever got me?
“It’ll be fun. There’s nothing to worry about,” I say as I hold his body against mine.
“We’ll see, Shakespeare.”
“Please,” I whine.
With a huff of frustration, he pulls away, and it feels like I’ve killed the moment. As he runs his hands through his hair, he turns away from me. “I said we’ll see.”
His voice is tense and uncomfortable, and regret rolls through me. “I’m sorry,” I say, reaching for him.
“What do you have to be sorry about?” he asks. He sounds livid, and I have to swallow down my guilt.
The sound of tires on gravel distracts us as we both turn to watch a pair of cars driving toward the manor. They are expensive-looking sports cars, and Declan lets out a grunt of frustration.
“Not again,” he mutters under his breath.
“Who is that?” I ask.
“My brother’s friends. Look like he’s throwing another party tonight.”
“Parties are fun,” I say, carefully gauging his reaction.
“I don’t want you at these parties,” he replies sternly.
“Okay,” I say, reaching for him. I wish he’d touch me again. I just want to silence all of the demons in his head, even the ones I don’t understand. I’d use my body to do it if he let me.
When he finally looks at me, his features soften, and we just stare at each other for a moment. Then he reaches for my hand, and we intertwine them as we continue our walk. Dark clouds roll in from the east, cutting our walk short when the rain starts.
It’s pouring by the time we make it back to the house. He ushers me in through the back, music and laughter spilling through the halls, but he won’t let me anywhere near it. Instead, he tugs me up the stairs, and we take a quick shower togetherbefore getting ready for bed.
When we reach his studio upstairs, I go back to my book, and Declan works on a painting, but I find it hard to relax. I’m restless. And it’s not just about going to the party. It’s about Declan letting me see past this veil he’s putting over my eyes.
It’s like he doesn’t want me to see the bad parts of his life, but that’s not how love or friendship works.
When I can’t take another moment, I climb from the bed and go to Declan, running my hands along his shoulders.
“Come to bed,” I whisper. “It’s late.”
“Go ahead,” he replies. “I took a nap. I’m fine.”
