‘Imogen,’ Darcy continued. ‘You and another Lover will join Owen and Holly on their date. Choose wisely!’
‘What do you say, Jackie boy?’ she asked.
Jack’s smile was a bit too bright. ‘’Course, love.’
The boys headed into the bedroom. ‘Nervous?’ Declan teased Jack.
Jack shrugged, rifling through his duffel for a clean shirt. ‘Low stakes, man. Imogen is fit, but it’s too early to know how we’ll get on.’ Declan was again struck by how close to the chest Jack played certain parts of the show.
Niall frowned. ‘Someone who likes Imogen should go on the date. She deserves a chance at love, too.’
‘It’s decided,’ Declan joked. ‘Who’ll go on the date, though?’
‘Not me,’ Niall said. He went red. ‘I mean, obviously.’
Declan turned to Oliver, who ran a frantic hand through his hair. ‘I’m fully committed to Maeve. Can’t stray.’
‘Is that right?’ Jack asked, narrowing his eyes.
Declan stifled a laugh; none of them wanted to admit they found Imogen to be a bit much.
‘Don’t look so smug, King.’ Jack whipped his attention to Declan. ‘I saw that swerve from Zoë this morning. Are you two having a lovers’ quarrel?’
Declan’s mood immediately darkened, remembering how coldly Zoë had acted towards him at breakfast. ‘We’re fine.’ He pointed at the shirt in Jack’s right hand. ‘I think the blue one.’
He left the boys, only to find a sullen-looking Maeve standing alone in the kitchen. He wordlessly filled the kettle, catching her eye and giving her a questioning nod.
‘Yeah, thanks,’ she said.
‘Everything all right?’ he asked. ‘You seemed upset after the party last night.’
‘Oh,’ she said, fidgeting. ‘Just in my cups.’ She gave him a weak smile, but he could tell something was still bothering her.
‘I know that you and I aren’t exactly close, but I’m here if you want to talk.’
‘Well, it’s just – last night—’ She cut herself off, lips scrunching as she struggled to articulate her thoughts. ‘What do you think of Imogen?’
‘I suppose if Jack likes her, then I like her well enough too,’ Declan said slowly.
‘And does he?’ Maeve asked, searching his face intently. ‘Like her, I mean.’
‘Uh, maybe?’ Declan’s brows drew together. ‘Why?’
Maeve blushed and it finally clicked. ‘No…’ Declan gaped at her. ‘Jack?’ It came out too loudly and she shushed him.
‘I just think he’s funny.’ She looked at the kettle, which had boiled already without them noticing, pressing the lever down to reheat it. ‘And cute,’ she added.
Declan bit back a laugh at her comically anguished expression before another thought struck him. ‘What about Oliver?’
‘Right,’ Maeve said. ‘I guess I wanted to know if there’s a chance with Jack first, before telling Oliver.’
‘I think Jack would be mad not to go for you,’ he said, but it felt stiff, dread trickling up his spine.
‘Oliver will be all right, though,’ Maeve said, eyeing him with concern. Declan made a concentrated effort to smooth his expression. ‘I’ll talk to him, I promise.’
He nodded, thinking back to Oliver sitting by the pool, his knee touching Declan’s arm. He thought about Oliver’s eyes the night before, when they had been too close together. Declan would figure out a way to keep Oliver on the show. He’d fix this.
The next morning, Declan lingered over his workout, considering how to broach Maeve’s confession with Oliver. Even though she’d told him not to, he didn’t think he could go much longer without bringing it up.
