Oliver was wearing his old grey T-shirt with the crew neck stretched to its limits from use. His hair was a complete wreck, sticking up on all sides, and his glasses hung low on his nose. He looked so perfect Declan could scream.
‘I thought it’d be nice to chat. I could use some advice,’ Oliver said, picking at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt.
‘All right,’ Declan said hesitantly. He was confused by Oliver seeking out his company after what had happened that afternoon.
‘I’m conflicted,’ Oliver said, turning to face him fully, ‘between the girls. I had a good chat with Faye. We talked about her engagement ending, and I felt like we had a lot in common there.’
‘Because of your ex?’ Declan couldn’t stop himself – he needed to hear more about Sophie, to understand why Oliver would move continents for someone who had broken his heart once already.
Oliver nodded with a far-away look in his eyes. ‘We weren’t engaged, obviously. But I was sure it would happen someday.’
‘Right,’ Declan said, ignoring the ache in his chest. Jealousy crept in, and he was surprised to find it wasn’t directed at Sophie but at Oliver himself, for being capable of loving someone so wholly, for experiencing heartbreak and letting himself be open to it again. ‘But how were you sure?’
‘I don’t know.’ Oliver stared at him. ‘The things I thought I was sure of then – I don’t feel sure of them any more.’
‘And you’re okay with that?’ Declan traced the line of Oliver’s collarbone with his eyes, unable to comprehend how someone could be so willing to live in uncertainty. It took a form of bravery he didn’t possess. Declan only felt comfortable in situations he could control.
‘Yes.’ Oliver glanced at Paige, and cleared his throat. ‘And I think Faye understands that… but then there’s Eavie.’ Declanopened his mouth, ready to apologise for the kiss, but Oliver waved him off. ‘It’s fine. I mean, I don’t have anything to worry about, right?’
‘Not even a little,’ Declan said. ‘I’m too far gone on someone else.’ Oliver could stay thinking he meant Zoë; he’d never have to know how hard it was to be this close to him and not reach out to touch him.
Oliver studied him carefully, the moon reflected in his eyes. ‘It feels easy with Eavie,’ he said. ‘Like she understands me.’
‘Other people understand you, Oliver.’ Declan glanced at the cameraman, wanting to say more. ‘But, mate,’ he continued, forcing himself to sound positive, ‘I don’t think you can make a bad choice here.’
‘Thanks,’ Oliver said, resting a hand on Declan’s shoulder. Declan stared back at him for a moment too long before clearing his throat.
‘I’m knackered,’ he said, and Oliver nodded, removing his hand.
‘Do you mind if I sleep out here?’ he asked. ‘Niall kicks.’
Declan hid his expression by leaning down to remove his mic. ‘Uh, yeah, ’course,’ he said, turning to pull the duvet over himself like a shield. He knew the suggestion was innocent, that Oliver had no idea how close Declan was to unravelling and how he was driving him to it, but it was hard to think rationally. ‘Not a problem.’
They listened awkwardly as Paige and the cameraman walked away.
‘Good night,’ Oliver said, when they were finally alone.
‘Night,’ Declan replied, and as a final cruel reminder that they were still being watched, the fairy lights above them flicked off, shrouding the patio in darkness.
Declan willed himself to sleep, but his body remained tense as the minutes dragged on, his thoughts always drifting back to the boy sleeping beside him.
He wondered what Oliver looked like, face slack with sleep and lips parted slightly. His hair was probably a mess, soft curls splaying out across his high cheekbones. Declan pictured Oliver’s T-shirt hanging off his shoulders, showing the freckled skin beneath.
Oliver shifted next to him, turning over so they were facing the same direction, one of his legs pushing out and grazing Declan’s calf. He waited, but Oliver didn’t move away. His breathing was slow and even, and Declan was sure he’d fallen asleep.
He was acting mad. Oliver had just told him about two different girls he was interested in. Their friendship only worked when Declan kept himself, and his feelings, under control. He tried to make himself relax by taking in ten slow breaths, but he only got halfway through before getting paranoid that Oliver would hear him.
Finally, Declan gave up and turned over, but Oliver was much closer than he had thought, and they ended up almost nose-to-nose. Declan retreated, leaning his head on his forearm, trying not to disturb him, but Oliver’s eyes were already on him, lit by the moonlight across his face.
‘Hi,’ he whispered to Declan, almost completely inaudible.
‘Hi,’ Declan whispered back. The two boys smiled at each other. Declan was struck that under the massive duvet and the moon, this was their first private moment since the beach. Oliver looked more relaxed than he’d ever seen him, his grin soft and inviting.
How are you?Declan mouthed.
Oliver wrinkled his nose and wiggled his head noncommittally.So-so. You?he mouthed back.
Declan grinned, Oliver’s good mood infectious.Never better.
