and Logan's.
"You okay?" Declan asked, rising up to lean on his elbows. He was clearly amused at having witnessed my twenty-second panic attack.
"Yeah, I guess I just lost track of time, and I realized I have to be somewhere tonight."
"Oh."
"I, uh...have to babysit for Clare and Logan. Logan has been having so many doctor appointments lately. They haven't really had any alone time outside of the hospital, so I volunteered to watch Maddie while they spent a few hours out. You do know that Logan has cancer, right?" I asked.
His brows furrowed together, and he nodded silently.
Declan and Logan had been friends since childhood, almost as long as Clare and I had known each other. I knew their relationship hadn't always been great, but I had thought it would have occurred to Declan to call Logan or check in on him since getting into town. But according to Clare, the two friends hadn't spoken in months. Logan had called him to break the news, and that was the last time Declan had spoken to him. I knew Logan was trying to be a man about the whole thing, but after being rejected by his father, he hadn't needed a shitty friend on top of everything.
"You want to go with me?" I asked.
His head jerked up in surprise. Hell, I was even a little surprised. He just looked so sad, lying there, stewing in his own thoughts.
"To babysit? Me? I don't think so," he said coolly.
"What? Are you scared of a little girl, Declan?"
"Fuck no. I'm not...well, yeah...maybe a little."
I couldn't help it. I giggled, causing him to smirk. Goddamn, he was sexy. Still leaning back on his elbows, he was completely naked and not ashamed in the least. He wasn't hiding a square inch of himself.
"Come on, it will be good for you. Live a little," I taunted.
"Live a little? How the hell is chasing around a six-year-old going to help me live a little? Besides, I'm pretty proficient with living the shit out of my life, thank you very much."
Ah, yes, I forgot. Logan had told me many stories of the mighty Declan James living it up all over the world as a glorified party animal and certified womanizer. I was fairly certain he was convinced that this was what life was about, what living was about. It was probably why he had that ridiculous tattoo on his body. If the man could look past his own finger, he would find being the life of the party wasn't fulfilling any cosmic purpose.
"That's it. You're coming. No more arguing. Get up and get dressed. We are going."
He gave me a hard stare before dragging his long body off the bed in an exaggerated pained movement. I rolled my eyes in the process.
"All right, but I'm going to take a shower first. I'm using your shit, so don't laugh when I come out smelling like a chick."
I squelched a laugh as I watched his tanned backside make its way into the adjoined bathroom. He didn't bother closing the door. I heard the faucet turn, and a moment later, the shower came on. The sound of water spraying against his body came next, and I suddenly was very jealous of water. This was a complete change for the few weeks of what I liked to call the Declan Days.
After our first night together, when we'd fallen asleep in the hotel room and I'd awoken to find myself alone in that same room, he hadn't stayed over at my place, and I'd never asked if I could stay at his hotel. We would meet, hook up, maybe talk a bit, joke around, and leave. This was the way it had been for two weeks. It was exactly how I'd expected a relationship with Declan James to be. We didn't hold hands, do late-night phone calls, or sit around, wondering what the other was thinking or doing when we were apart. We would text our schedules and find times to meet. It wasn't like we didn't talk. We did. We just didn't linger for hours afterward. We both had lives and demanding jobs, and I had a family. We would make the most of our time and then part ways.
He'd never asked to shower here. He always left, saying he had somewhere to be or an early call on the set. But
"You okay?" Declan asked, rising up to lean on his elbows. He was clearly amused at having witnessed my twenty-second panic attack.
"Yeah, I guess I just lost track of time, and I realized I have to be somewhere tonight."
"Oh."
"I, uh...have to babysit for Clare and Logan. Logan has been having so many doctor appointments lately. They haven't really had any alone time outside of the hospital, so I volunteered to watch Maddie while they spent a few hours out. You do know that Logan has cancer, right?" I asked.
His brows furrowed together, and he nodded silently.
Declan and Logan had been friends since childhood, almost as long as Clare and I had known each other. I knew their relationship hadn't always been great, but I had thought it would have occurred to Declan to call Logan or check in on him since getting into town. But according to Clare, the two friends hadn't spoken in months. Logan had called him to break the news, and that was the last time Declan had spoken to him. I knew Logan was trying to be a man about the whole thing, but after being rejected by his father, he hadn't needed a shitty friend on top of everything.
"You want to go with me?" I asked.
His head jerked up in surprise. Hell, I was even a little surprised. He just looked so sad, lying there, stewing in his own thoughts.
"To babysit? Me? I don't think so," he said coolly.
"What? Are you scared of a little girl, Declan?"
"Fuck no. I'm not...well, yeah...maybe a little."
I couldn't help it. I giggled, causing him to smirk. Goddamn, he was sexy. Still leaning back on his elbows, he was completely naked and not ashamed in the least. He wasn't hiding a square inch of himself.
"Come on, it will be good for you. Live a little," I taunted.
"Live a little? How the hell is chasing around a six-year-old going to help me live a little? Besides, I'm pretty proficient with living the shit out of my life, thank you very much."
Ah, yes, I forgot. Logan had told me many stories of the mighty Declan James living it up all over the world as a glorified party animal and certified womanizer. I was fairly certain he was convinced that this was what life was about, what living was about. It was probably why he had that ridiculous tattoo on his body. If the man could look past his own finger, he would find being the life of the party wasn't fulfilling any cosmic purpose.
"That's it. You're coming. No more arguing. Get up and get dressed. We are going."
He gave me a hard stare before dragging his long body off the bed in an exaggerated pained movement. I rolled my eyes in the process.
"All right, but I'm going to take a shower first. I'm using your shit, so don't laugh when I come out smelling like a chick."
I squelched a laugh as I watched his tanned backside make its way into the adjoined bathroom. He didn't bother closing the door. I heard the faucet turn, and a moment later, the shower came on. The sound of water spraying against his body came next, and I suddenly was very jealous of water. This was a complete change for the few weeks of what I liked to call the Declan Days.
After our first night together, when we'd fallen asleep in the hotel room and I'd awoken to find myself alone in that same room, he hadn't stayed over at my place, and I'd never asked if I could stay at his hotel. We would meet, hook up, maybe talk a bit, joke around, and leave. This was the way it had been for two weeks. It was exactly how I'd expected a relationship with Declan James to be. We didn't hold hands, do late-night phone calls, or sit around, wondering what the other was thinking or doing when we were apart. We would text our schedules and find times to meet. It wasn't like we didn't talk. We did. We just didn't linger for hours afterward. We both had lives and demanding jobs, and I had a family. We would make the most of our time and then part ways.
He'd never asked to shower here. He always left, saying he had somewhere to be or an early call on the set. But
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