Declan pushed the button for the fifth floor, staring at his blurry reflection in the lift’s doors and trying unsuccessfully to convince himself he wasn’t nervous.
Besides a string of exclamation points from Holly, a mind-blown emoji from Jack and a long text from Niall about his commitment to allyship, none of the other contestants had reached out to Declan after his press conference. It didn’t do much to calm his nerves now that he was seeing them all again, and that wasn’t even the night’s main source of anxiety.
The lift dinged, and Declan could hear the low murmur of the party from the hallway. He knocked, steeling himself.
The door swung open to reveal a beaming Maeve. She had curled her hair and wore a champagne slip dress, and looked much livelier than she had on the show. Declan supposed they’d all got worn down by the end.
‘Hi,’ she said, hugging him tightly. ‘I’m so glad you could make it.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Declan responded, handing over the bottle of wine he’d brought for the occasion. ‘I wouldn’t miss this.’
He meant it. When Declan had got the text from Maeve suggesting a reunion, he had hoped it would give him the opportunity to make things right with Oliver.
Maeve looked as though she knew exactly what he was thinking. ‘They’re straight back,’ she said, stepping aside.
The flat was nice: modern features with clean lines, but filled with colourful knick-knacks and art pieces Maeve must have collected on her travels.
‘There he is!’ Jack yelled when Declan stepped into the living room. ‘Man of the fucking hour.’
Declan was immediately engulfed in a hug.
‘Welcome to London!’ Declan said, scanning the rest of the room over Jack’s shoulder.
Holly was there, sitting close to Owen on Maeve’s sectional. Imogen, Zoë, Faye and Eavie were gathered by the kitchen island across the way. No Oliver yet. He reminded himself that it was still early.
Jack pouted comically. ‘I can’t believe you tried to steal my thunder,’ he said. ‘Coming out two days before my party. Very rude. You could’ve at least given me a heads up.’ It was said in jest, but Declan could tell Jack was a bit hurt.
‘What can I say? I live for the drama.’ Declan knocked Jack’s shoulder and hoped the apology was clear on his face.
‘Jack, you’re a terrible host. Get the man a beer!’ Holly called over.
‘Why don’t you make him a drink?’ Jack shot back. Holly stood and Declan slung an arm around her.
‘Hi, you,’ he whispered into her ear. ‘Fancy that Owen bloke managing an invite.’ She squeezed his ribs threateningly, cheeks flushed.
‘Right, one old fashioned coming up,’ she said, heading to the kitchen.
He followed her. ‘I should come up to Manchester and get the real Holly, hot bartender experience.’
She scoffed. ‘If you could make it in. Ever since I got back, it’s been bedlam.’ She dropped a sugar cube and a dash of bitters into the bottom of the shaker, muddling them before adding in the bourbon.
‘Beating blokes off with a stick now?’ he asked. She pinned him with a hard glare as she shook the cocktail, and Declan’s grin widened. ‘Well, I’m newly unemployed. Can I put in an application for bodyguard of one Holly Henderson?’
‘Application denied,’ she said, pouring his drink and sliding it across the counter. ‘Besides, the pay would be shit.’ With that, she turned and flounced back to Owen. Declan took a sip of his drink and immediately understood why Holly’s bar was so crowded.
‘Hello, stranger,’ Imogen called from the other end of the counter, giving him a once-over. ‘Nice outfit.’
Declan nodded to the other girls. ‘Thanks, my ex picked it out.’
‘Well, she has impeccable taste,’ Imogen said, sipping her wine.
‘In everything but men,’ Declan agreed, dropping a kiss to her cheek. He glanced at Zoë, who was watching the exchange curiously.
‘Hiya, Zo,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know you’d be here. Good to see you.’
‘You, too.’
‘Where’s James?’ he asked, and caught a warning look from Faye.
