"Please. Just tell me what you know."
Pierce runs a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable. "I don't know specifics. But from what Ashton mentioned, it sounded promising.”
I nod. “Good. Good for him. I know he’s going to love it.”
“Maybe.”
"Has he signed anything?" The question comes out barely above a whisper.
"No. At least not that I know of."
"Why not?"
Pierce gives me a look that says I should know the answer to that question. "You'd have to ask him."
"He won't talk to me," I repeat.
"Maybe you're not trying hard enough."
"I tried last night. He shut me down."
"So try again. And again. And keep trying until he listens." Pierce stands, looking down at me with a soft smile. "Look, I don't know why you think you’re in the way. That's your business. But I know Declan, and I know he doesn't let people in easily. You got in. That means something."
"It meant something," I correct. "Past tense."
"You sure about that?"
I'm not sure about anything anymore. I'm sitting in a room I swore I'd never sleep in again, talking about a man I swore I'd get over.
"I don't know," I admit.
Pierce nods. "That's honest. Come on, let's go start dinner. I'm starving, and if we don't get something going, the guys will order pizza for the third night in a row. Since you left, the chore wheel has been a little…off."
I follow him downstairs, grateful for the change of subject.
Pierce pulls a package of chicken out of the fridge. "Let’s make that lemon garlic thing you used to do."
"I can do that.”
"Good. Because I've been craving it for weeks and none of us can get it right."
"We'll put you back on the chore chart," Pierce says casually, like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"The chore chart."
"Yeah. You're living here; you're pulling your weight. That was the deal before, and it's the deal now."
Something about that simple statement makes my eyes sting. The chore chart. It means I'm part of this household again. Part of the team.
"Yeah," I say, my voice thick. "Okay."
Chapter Four
DECLAN
Walking into the house after another conversation with my father, I smelled her.
Not her, but her cooking. Lemon chicken. Pierce has been talking about that stupid recipe all week. He must have convinced her to make it for him.
