I force my feet to move, waving once over my shoulder. The cold nips at my nose, my cheeks, my thighs—nothing the sweatshirt, the flannel, and the memory of Declan’s mouth can’t fight off.
Snow crunches under my boots, my breath fogging in front of me as the inn comes into view. I tug the flannel tighter around my shoulders, warmth lingering as if his hands are still there.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Declan
Obsession tasteslike Emery Corbin and chocolate cake.
Feeling like a creep, I stand outside the back door and watch her until she reaches the end of the parking lot. I should’ve given her a ride to the inn. She turns the corner without looking back and disappears.
She’s been out of my eyesight for fifteen seconds and I’m already itching to chase her down. I force myself to shut the damn door before I end up jogging after her like a deranged duckling who imprinted on the first person who fed it a slice of Wonder bread.
Get it together, Sterling.
She’s fine. It’s a straight shot to the inn in broad daylight. There’s no logical reason for the itch under my skin, the restless energy tightening every muscle.
My hand’s already pulling out my phone, thumb hovering over her contact like a psychopath, debating texting her even though it’s been—what—one minute since she walked away?
Pathetic.
I drag both hands over my face and stalk through the hallway into the back of the shop, trying to shake the buzz she leaves in her wake. Doesn’t help. Being with Emery was nice. Really nice.Letting her into my space. My bed. Waking up next to her. All of it.
“You better get out of here before I call the sheriff!” Lucy shouts, breaking me out of my stalking Emery daydream.
“Huh?” I lift my head and frown. Lucy’s standing by the front desk with her phone held high in the air and amusement tilting her lips.
I roll my eyes. “What?”
“Oh! Sorry, Declan.” She widens her eyes to a dramatic degree. “Phew. I didn’t recognize you with that…what isthat? A smile on your face? Are you smiling or do you need to fart?”
A deep scowl settles over my expression. “Hilarious. You should give up piercing and star in a comedy show.”
Lucy saunters closer, tucking her phone in her back pocket. “I’m serious. You look…unnervingly pleasant. Should I be worried? Did someone slip happy pills in your coffee?”
“I didn’t have coffee yet,” I mutter.
“Ohhh…so is this about the pretty little YouTuber who was in here making fuck-me eyes at you yesterday?”
My jaw tightens. “Was she?”
“Yeah. Duh.”
“You met her for five minutes.”
“So?” She shrugs. “She’s my new favorite person. Turned you into Mr. Sunshine. It’s a miracle.”
I scrub my hand over my jaw and stride past her toward my station. “I’m not sunshine.”
“Mm-hmm.” Lucy pivots, following me as if she’smyown personal deranged duckling. “You’re practically glowing. Don’t tell me, you broke your vow of celibacy.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “And did the dirty?”
“What’s wrong with you?” I drop into my chair and shove a sketch pad between us as a barrier. “No one gotdirty.”
“Suuure you didn’t,” she singsongs.
“Not your business,” I growl. “Shut up.”
She leans over the back of the chair, peering at me upside down. “You shut up. Your hair’s doing that weird cowlick thing that says you were too busy getting nookie to run a comb through it.”
