“I can clean,” I said.
“You're supposed to be resting.”
“I've been resting for three days. I'm going to lose my mind if I rest any more.”
“Fine. But if you pull anything, I'm putting you back on the couch and you're staying there.”
We cleaned in comfortable silence. The kind that came from being around each other long enough that conversation wasn't always necessary. When the kitchen was done and the livingroom was back to something resembling order, Declan grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed me one.
“Come on,” he said.
“Where?”
“Roof.”
I followed him up the narrow stairs that led to the rooftop access and out into the cold Chicago night.
The city spread around us in all directions. Lights and distance and old ghosts that didn't feel quite as heavy as they used to. Declan had blankets up here already, like he'd been planning this, and we settled onto them side by side with our backs against the wall and our faces turned up toward the stars.
“You plan this?” I asked.
“Maybe.”
“Romantic.”
“Shut up.”
I smiled and took a drink of my beer. The cold bit at my face but it wasn't unbearable. Just sharp enough to make me feel alive.
“I don't know what comes next exactly,” I said after a while. “London feels right but I don't have a plan after that.”
“We'll figure it out.”
“That sounds suspiciously like optimism.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Just unusual coming from you.”
Declan shifted closer and I felt the warmth of him all down my side. “I'm allowed to be optimistic. We're both alive. Rafael's dead. I'm leaving Chicago with you. That's more than I thought I'd get a month ago.”
“You sure about leaving? This is your city. Your gym. Your fights.”
“I'm sure.” His voice was steady. “Mara's got the gym. The center's running smooth. And I can fight anywhere. London's got plenty of venues.”
“It's a big change.”
“So was letting you back into my life. Worked out pretty well so far.”
I turned to look at him and found him already looking at me with an expression that made my chest tight. “You really think that?”
“I think we're both still breathing and that's what matters. The rest we can figure out as we go.” He paused. “Besides, I've spent enough years in this city. Maybe it's time to see what your world looks like.”
“My world is a mess.”
“Good thing I'm used to your messes then.”
I kissed him then because I didn't have words for what I was feeling. He tasted like beer and certainty and the promise of something that might actually last. When I pulled back, his hand came up to cup my jaw, holding me there like he was afraid I'd disappear if he let go.
