‘Sounds to me like you’reoverthinking it,’ Declan said.
‘That’s easy for you to say,’ Oliver said. ‘You never slip up. It’s impossible to tell what you’re thinking.’
Declan shrugged, relieved by that assessment. He’d certainly had enough practice. ‘I’ve got used to it. My job is constant press conferences and talk shows and people feeling entitled to take my picture any time I leave my flat. But none of it’s real. Sure, I can turn it on, but to be honest, I’d rather not be in the spotlight at all.’
‘Then why come on reality TV?’ Oliver asked.
The functioning portion of Declan’s brain told him to exercise caution. ‘Well, it’s like I said, my career makes it difficult to meet someone.’
Oliver stared at him, biting his bottom lip, and said nothing. Incapable of doing anything other than stare back, Declan felt like all the air on earth had evaporated.
‘Sure,’ he continued after a moment, his tone sharper than he intended, ‘I play things up for the drama, but IlikeZoë. I want to find someone to spend my life with.’ He could picture Georgia rolling her eyes, but it had the desired effect on Oliver.
‘Huh,’ he said, looking down. ‘Between you, Niall and Stella, I seem to gravitate towards the saps.’
Declan cleared his throat, not wanting to think about Oliver gravitating towards him. ‘Plus, my wrist is still useless, so I figured this would be a nice holiday.’ He let out a humourless laugh. They both knew too well that this was no holiday.
He looked out at the ocean, realising that he’d just admitted for the first time that his break from boxing wasn’t entirely voluntary, and didn’t catch what Oliver said next.
‘What?’ Declan asked, but Oliver was looking somewhere slightly over his shoulder, his frown smoothing over.
‘Hey, boys,’ Paige said, laying a towel at their feet. ‘How are we doing over here?’
‘Oh, grand,’ Oliver said.
‘Yup,’ Declan said, clapping Oliver on the knee. ‘We’ve bonded over our athletic abilities and decided to be mates. I hope that doesn’t ruin your plans for us.’
‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘These storylines only have a shelf life of about three episodes anyway, and everyone loves a bromance.’ She looked between them in her calculating way. ‘Is there anything specific you bonded over?’
‘I asked Declan about his last fight,’ Oliver said.
‘Oh?’ Paige asked.
‘I’m sure you know all about it,’ Declan said quickly.
‘I saw your press conference afterwards,’ Paige said, eyes alight with interest. ‘But I never saw what actually happened.’
She turned to him and Declan found it suddenly difficult to breathe. As much as his time on the show had been more difficult than he had expected, it had provided a decent distraction from his career. Now it was like he was back in the ring again, the bright lights beating down on him and the roar of the crowd echoing in his ear.
Declan cleared his throat. ‘I, er, took a pretty bad beating on that one.’ He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not looking at Paige or Oliver. ‘Alexei has a killer right hook, which I, uh, underestimated. But I guess I had got a bit cocky. Thought I was invincible, right?’ His cheeks flushed and he started talking faster, as if the quicker he relayed the story, the less it would hurt.
‘He finally caught me across the cheek in the sixth round and I went down. I woke up with my wrist fucked… landed wrong, broke it clean through.’ Declan shoved his wrist out stupidly as proof, the pink of his scar stark in the dying sunlight.
Oliver took it gently in his hands and brought it close to his face for inspection. His long fingers were cool against Declan’s overheated skin, his calluses rough. Their hands touched and, for a crazed moment, Declan had the bizarre urge to lace their fingers together, wanting something to ground himself, to remind him that he wasn’t still fighting.
Oliver caught his eye, and Declan, for the first time, had no idea what the other man would see in his expression. He hoped he looked normal and calm and not like he’d been pulled too thin across his skin. Oliver cracked a smile, that charming smile.
‘I think you’ll live,’ he quipped, dropping his wrist, and Declan could breathe again.
Paige laughed at Oliver’s joke, and Declan startled, remembering she was there, watching. ‘Oh, this could be good.’
Chapter 9
Declan
Drinking himself to excess had been a mistake. When he didn’t immediately pop out of bed for his usual early morning workout, Zoë took it upon herself to wiggle over to his side of the bed for a chat. Spotting a camera pointed at them, Declan understood this was an opportunity for screen time as a couple.
‘Hello,’ he muttered hoarsely, rearranging his body so Zoë could lay her head on his chest.
