Page 36 of While You Were Trending

“Okay,” Declan says. “I’ll go help with the great equipment start-up. After I clean my own dishes.”

I retreat into the office, counting down the minutes until coffee should be ready.

When I peek out of the door, Declan’s still there.

Leaning against the sink. Tight T-shirt. Short running shorts. Thick muscles on his well-over-six-feet frame. Broody lips. Intelligent eyes. One slim ankle hooked over the other. Two days’ worth of stubble growing on his chiseled jaw. Messy hair that he used to take so much time with, fitting the stereotypical hockey guy mold with the good flow.

And he’s still sipping coffee out of my mug.

My clunky, homemade pink-and-yellow mug scrolled with a message to myself—you are worthy and you are loved.

It has imperfections and flaws, but like me, it’s still here.

Also like him.

Olivia’s gone, but Declan is still freaking here.

Why isn’t he leaving?

Is he planning on snooping?

Does he need something but doesn’t want to go find someone to ask for it?

He’s not even supposed to be in here since he’s not filming right now.

The coffee’s done. I heard its final sputter.

I need to get my coffee now or I won’t have it until noon.

Bad plan.

I suck in all of my fortitude and leave the office, heading straight for the coffee maker on the granite countertop, even though it means I have to stand next to Declan.

“Gonna miss the tractor,” I say as conversationally as I can.

He lifts my mug. “Just finishing up.”

“Cricket doesn’t wait for slowpokes.”

He turns to the sink, grabs the dish soap, and starts washing my mug. “I’m sorry I didn’t help you. That day. At the church. I always regretted not doing the right thing and helping you.”

Well.

That’s a hell of a thing to say this early in the morning.

Especially with a ring of sincerity that makes goosebumps race down my back.

I can count at least a half dozen of Alex’s teammates that I would’ve believed if they said that to me. That I would’ve appreciated hearing that from.

Not that any of them did.

So when Declan says it—I want to know the catch.

“I believe we’ve agreed to not discuss the past,” I say.

“Teeth doing okay?”

My crowns.