Because she’s the one person I can never have.
And I’m starting to think she’s ruined me for any other woman.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CLAIRE
The rooftop glowswith strings of white lights, casting everything in a golden haze. Laughter rises above the hum of conversation while people sip champagne and mulled wine. The heat lamps buzz softly, warming the crisp December afternoon.
And then there’s Declan.
He’s across the terrace, sitting with Grandma Estelle. She’s holding court as usual, gesturing wildly, her pearls bouncing against her chest with every emphatic word. I can’t hear her, but I can almost guarantee she’s telling him about whatever romance novel she’s currently reading. And being the gentleman he is, his attention is glued to her.
Every time I sneak a glance, I find him already watching me. He doesn’t linger long, but even the shortest flicker of his gaze leaves me flushed, my skin prickling as though I’ve been caught doing something illicit.
This is the first time we’ve been in public together since we started…whatever this is. I hate how much my body aches for him right now. How badly I want to brush my fingers against the rough shadow of his jaw. How much I want to tuck myself against his side and surround myself in his warmth.
Instead, all I can do is relish in the warmth of a heat lamp, pretending he’s nothing more than Joshua’s father.
I knew what this was when we started down this path. Casual. Temporary. Something we could contain.
Something we could control.
But being this close and not being able to touch him feels like a cruel punishment I wasn’t prepared for.
A burst of his laughter carries across the terrace, deep and rich, sliding under my skin like a secret touch. I wrap my fingers tighter around the stem of my champagne flute, forcing myself to take a sip and act as if I’m not unraveling from the mere sound of his deep chuckle.
“Mind if I join you?”
I snap my head up as my mom approaches with a glass of champagne.
“Of course.” I slide over on the couch to make room. She lowers herself beside me and tilts her flute toward me.
“To you finally taking a little time off. It’s long overdue.”
“Cheers,” I murmur, clinking my glass with hers.
We sip in silence. On the surface, it’s comfortable. I’ve always had a great relationship with my mother. Which is why I can’t shake the feeling she didn’t come over here just to keep me company.
I focus on the bubbles fizzing in my glass. On the flames in the fire pit in front of us. Anything but the man sitting mere feet away.
But it’s like my body doesn’t want to listen to reason, my eyes finding his once more. And when he notices me watching him, his mouth curves into a devilish smile he reserves just for me, scorching every inch of me from the inside out.
Who needs a fire pit when Declan Hart is mere feet away?
“So…,” my mother begins, reminding me she’s right beside me. “How long have you been sleeping with Joshua’s father?”
I choke on my champagne, sputtering so loudly a few people glance our way, including Declan. But I purposefully avoid looking at him.
“Excuse me?” I manage once my coughing fit subsides.
Her expression is maddeningly calm, eyes sharp, lips twitching like she already knows the answer.
“That’s him, isn’t it?” she presses. “The one you had a sexual awakening with in Boston?”
“I didn’t have a sexual awakening in Boston,” I argue. “I?—”
She holds up a hand, cutting me off with the kind of authority only a mother can wield. “Claire. Please. You might think you can hide things from me, but you can’t. I knew when you got your first period. During a volleyball game in seventh grade. I knew when you kissed a boy for the first time. Joshua, as practice, which was a mistake.”
