‘Look, I can’t do this with you right now.’ He was too strung out to talk to Oliver; he could feel it in the rush of blood through his veins.
Oliver ignored his pleading look. ‘Do what?’
The throbbing in his head threatened to burst him open at any moment. ‘Can’t you just leave me alone?’ he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose and digging his thumbs into the corners of his eyes.
‘Can’t you just talk to me?’ Oliver asked, looming over him, standing too close. All Declan wanted was to lean in.
‘No,’ Declan said, glancing at his lips and then finally meeting his eye.Like Declan looks at Oliver.He blinked, saw a flash ofconcern in Oliver’s gaze, and turned away quickly to look at the faint pink light of the setting sun.
‘I don’t think I can do this.’ The words were out before he registered what he was saying. It was an instinct, somewhere deep down, to push Oliver away before they both got hurt.
Oliver raked a hand through his hair. ‘Do what? Talk to me?’
Declan tried to imagine the two of them outside the confines of the villa, but he couldn’t. Oliver wanted to go to New York and Declan had a career in London. He’d never had to fit someone into his life before, had never been willing to try. But Oliver had upended everything he had ever known; he’d do anything for him. And that terrified him.
‘Any of it.’
Oliver had said being with Sophie had been easy – nothing about this was easy. Life didn’t work like that; Declan didn’t get to have what he wanted.
Oliver blinked at him incredulously for a moment before understanding hardened in his eyes. He opened his mouth to reply, then seemed to think better of it, brushing past Declan. Declan wanted to run after him, to take it back, but he was rooted to the spot. The throbbing in his head returned full force.
Chapter 20
Declan
Declan didn’t get out of bed the next morning. When the lights flicked on, he threw the duvet cover over his head, willing himself back to sleep as the rest of the group got ready for the day around him. He didn’t get much respite before Imogen walked in with a steaming cup of tea.
‘Hi,’ she said softly, placing the mug on the bedside table. ‘How you feeling?’
He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. ‘Just tired,’ he said, grabbing the mug and taking a sip. ‘I’ll be out in a minute.’
Imogen didn’t push him, putting a kind hand on his shoulder before heading back outside. Declan forced himself out of bed as Paige walked into the room.
‘You okay?’ she asked, looking about as tired as Declan felt.
‘Yeah,’ Declan said, pulling a pair of sweats over his boxers.
‘It’s a late morning for you,’ Paige said, still studying him.
‘I had an exhausting day yesterday,’ Declan said, flashing her a sardonic smile. ‘But you know that. You know everything, don’t you?’
Paige made a noncommittal noise. ‘Not everything,’ she said. ‘What happened with Oliver?’
Declan did his best to control his expression, telling himself there was no way she knew. ‘Nothing,’ he said carefully. ‘Surely not anything to drop my ratings.’
Paige raised her eyebrows. ‘You’re worried about the audience?’
He had thought she would have been accustomed to his callousness at this point. Somehow, he had managed to fool even Paige into believing there was something good in him.
‘Got to keep my eye on the prize,’ he said.
‘You still want that?’ Paige asked, her gaze intent on his. ‘You never struck me as someone who needed the money.’
‘Oh, but I do like to win.’ Declan couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. ‘Oliver’s in a good spot; he can look after himself.’
He didn’t give her a chance to say anything more as he headed out onto the patio. He ignored Owen and Jack making a mess of breakfast, sitting alone on a daybed. After a few minutes of peace, Imogen joined him.
‘There you are, babe,’ he said, forcing some cheer into his voice. ‘Fancy a cuddle?’ Imogen climbed onto the bed, wrapping herself around him.
