A call.
I stared at his name while my heart slammed around in my chest.
I answered. “Hey.”
Normal was not even in the same zip code.
Declan didn’t bother pretending otherwise. “Talk to me.”
“I’m fine. No. I’m not fine, but I’m not red. Amber. I’m parked. I’m in my car. I haven’t driven anywhere, so I didn’t do anything stupid. Vanessa and me, we did it. It’s done.”
“Breathe.”
“I am breathing.”
“Not enough.”
That almost made me laugh, except it came out broken.
“She knew,” I said. “Not everything, but enough. She asked if there was someone else, and I said yes. Then she asked if she knew her, and I said no, and that’s technically true, but it feels like lying with a different jacket on. She looked so tired, Dec. Like being with me had worn her down.”
He was quiet for a few seconds.
Not empty quiet. Not the kind that left me scrambling. The kind where he was there, taking it in before giving me the next thing.
“Where are you?”
I told him the restaurant name and the cross street before I could talk myself out of it.
A deep bark sounded in the background, followed by a thud and Declan saying something low away from the phone.
Then he came back to me. “Come here.”
I stopped moving completely.
“What?”
“To my house.”
My hand tightened around the phone. “I’ve never been to your house.”
“I know.”
“I don’t know where it is.”
“I’ll give you the address.”
His house.
Not the arena. Not a hotel. Not some half-lit place with neutral walls and exits neither of us had to name. His actual house. Where his actual life existed. Where Olivia’s things might be. Where Tiny, who had already flattened me with one meeting and several phone-call interruptions, lived. Where neighbors knew his truck and might recognize my face.
“I don’t know if that’s smart,” I said, even while the part of me that needed him grabbed onto the offer with both hands.
“It isn’t careful,” Declan said. “It’s still what I’m choosing.”
My breath shook.
“Color?”
