“I’m sorry you didn’t get to shag anyone tonight,” I say softly across the dark room.
“Och,” he murmurs. “I don’t care about that. I just got worried when I didn’t see you in the pub anymore. I was afraid you took off with that guy. I didn’t know him, but I didn’t trust him. And as it turns out, my intuition was right.”
Suddenly, the memory of everything with Niall comes flooding back. Was he too persistent? Should I have seen the signssooner? How on earth am I going to do this if I don’t even know how to choose the right men?
“What’s wrong with me, Declan?” I ask softly, like a whisper through the night.
Declan doesn’t move for a second. He just stares at me. “There ain’t a fucking thing wrong with you, understand me?” he asks. “You’ll meet a good guy eventually. I know it. And he’ll look out for you.”
“As much as you do?” I ask.
“Nobody’s going to fucking look out for you as much as I do,” he replies. And I laugh.
“What kind of loser graduates from uni as a virgin?” I ask.
“You haven’t graduated yet,” he replies. “There’s still time.”
This makes me crack up. “We graduate in four days, Declan. I highly doubt I’m going to meet a good person and have sex in four days.”
He reclines onto his bed, his hands folded behind his head as he smiles at the ceiling. “Fine, you stubborn fool. I’ll make sweet, sweet love to you so you don’t graduate a virgin. Is that what you want?”
My heart pitter-patters wildly in my chest as I stare at him. That isexactlywhat I want. But I can’t say it. He’s teasing me, making a joke. But it’s not funny because it’s true, and he has no idea.
As much as I wish that offer was real, I know it never, ever will be, because sleeping with someone like Declan would be perfect. Someone I trust. Someone who puts me first. Someone who genuinely cares about me. Who knows me.
In short, too good to be true.
When I don’t respond or crack a smile, Declan turns toward me. And his smile drifts slowly off of his face. For a moment, we just stare at each other. It’s loaded silence. The only sound in the room is the tick-tock of the clock on the wall and the steady cadence of our breaths. I let it get this way when I should have just laughed at his joke. But I couldn’t.
And now, he knows that’s what I truly want. He knows my secret.
Quickly, I force a chuckle. “Yeah, right,” I say. “Thanks for offering.” But even my voice sounds stale and uncomfortable. Like I’m not really laughing. And I’m not really cracking a joke.
He’s still staring at me. The expression on his face says he’s just learned something monumental.
Before he can say anything, I lie down on the bed and turn away from him. The last thing I want is Declan’s pity, not when he knows what a pathetic, lovesick loser I am.
* * *
The next day is spent sleeping off a hangover and packing. My mother calls sometime around eleven, and I answer the phone as I’m walking through the hall toward the courtyard between the buildings.
“Hello,” I say.
“Oh, darling, I just went and toured your flat down in London, and it is exquisite,” she says excitedly.
With a grimace, I force a smile even though she can’t see me. “That’s great, Mum. Thank you,” I reply.
“You’re going to absolutely love it. And it’s only a quick five-minute walk from home. So you can visit your father and me as much as you want.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“Oh, my love, I’m so excited to have you living back home,” she croons.
“Yeah, me too,” I say stiffly.
“Rebecca Park with the Cambridge Theatre called yesterday afternoon. Of course, you know your father works with her eldest son.”
“Yeah, Mum, I remember.”
