Page 84 of Seven Rules for Breaking Hearts

I’d managed to clear three of Jo’s cups on the first round and was watching the screen for her to finish her turn when a bouquet of red carnations filled my vision.

My first thought was that they smelled amazing. My second thought was that someone had the wrong girl, because I wasn’t one of the performers. I looked up.

Declan was standing in front of me, wearing a pair of jeans and the same NASA hoodie that he’d worn on the island. I blinked. Okay, so I wasn’t hallucinating. “Sorry,” he said, withdrawing the bouquet when I didn’t accept it. “I didn’t mean to shove them in your face like that. Just nervous, I guess.”

I gawked at him, my brain working overtime to catch up. “What are you doing here?” He’d sent an email last week giving me the stamp of approval to upload the audio files for Season Seven, but that was it. The message had been short and purposeful. No how are you or seeing anybody lately or even hope your new podcast is going well. “And why do you have flowers?”

“Better late than never?” He smiled guiltily, the dimple appearing in his cheek as he made another attempt to offer me the bouquet, and this time I accepted it. He sank into the seat next to mine. “Probably would have made more sense if you were up there performing, but since your tuba-playing days are apparently over …”

We were close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him. He smelled like I remembered, pine and seaside air and another smell that was distinctly him. I wanted nothing more than to hug him tight and refuse to let go, but I couldn’t do that, so I hugged the carnations to my chest instead. “I’ve maybe dabbled in it once or twice since moving home,” I admitted. “My mom still had my tuba lying around in my old bedroom. It’s super out of tune, though.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that I should have waited for your return to the stage for a redo on the whole flower thing.”

I laughed. “You might have been waiting awhile.” I remembered the story he had told me about shoving the flowers at Jordan Gardner, why he claimed he had showed up to the winter recital that year in the first place. I was planning to apologize for the shaving cream thing and tell you how I felt. But this time around, he didn’t owe me an apology. And I wasn’t sure he felt anything. I swallowed. “What sort of redo are we talking here?”

He adjusted himself in his seat, his brow knit as he seemed to search for the right place to start. A look I was all too familiar with these days, because I’d been doing a lot of searching myself. “I listened to the podcast. All of it.”

“I figured as much.”

He exhaled. “I should have stayed and talked it out at the reception. A part of me wanted to, but another part of me was so upset at seeing those screenshots, feeling like you’d lied to me about everything …” He drifted off, frowning at the empty stage. “I told you that I don’t do one-night stands because I have a tendency to get attached. After I saw the article, I started questioning whether the feelings were one-sided. If I was the only one getting attached while you were playing me like a fiddle.” He snorted. “Or a tuba, I guess.”

I shook my head, fighting a smile. Even as he was pouring his heart out, he couldn’t resist a bad joke. “I never lied about how I felt. I should have told you about the other stuff sooner, but everything that happened between us was genuine.” Embarrassment crept over me, so I focused on my carnations, rubbing one of the soft petals between my thumb and forefinger. “I’ve spent my whole life getting cold feet before even getting to know people, but it all came so naturally with you. I don’t think I could have faked that if I tried.”

“I know,” he said, voice low in the empty auditorium. The workers had mostly finished with clearing off the stage. “I mean, I realize that now, looking back on it. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”

Someone dimmed the lighting, but it didn’t go completely dark. A trail of recessed lights in the floor pointed the way to the nearest exit like an airport runway. “Why didn’t you text back?” I asked quietly.

He winced. “I don’t really like having those conversations over the phone. But I wasn’t sure I was ready to meet up in person either, because I felt like the moment I saw you I would want to be okay with everything, and I was still trying to work out which parts I was actually okay with.” He smiled a little sadly. “And then that day at In-N-Out, you caught me super off guard. And then you handed me the money, and it seemed like maybe you meant it to be a goodbye, like that was your way of tying up loose ends so that you could close that chapter of your life.”

A surprised laugh escaped my lips; I couldn’t help it. “It was an excuse to talk to you. I’d sat in my truck outside of your work for twenty minutes like a total weirdo, and then I gave up and drove to In-N-Out to collect my thoughts. I never expected you’d just walk in—”

His cheek dimpled in amusement. “You never expected to run into me, when you were the one hanging around my work?”

“Okay, so maybe I should have expected it,” I conceded with a smile. “But still. It definitely wasn’t meant to be a goodbye.” My heart hummed in my chest, not a frantic rhythm but a long and sustained note, heartstrings threatening to snap. “I wanted so badly for you to kiss me again. Hug me. Something to show me that you still felt—”

He buried a hand in my hair and tugged my mouth to his in a rough kiss. It was fierce and purposeful, and that was all the reassurance I needed to kiss him back. He drew me toward him and I didn’t hesitate to abandon the bouquet and shift onto his lap. There was still a lot we needed to talk about. What we were jumping into; what we were working to move past. But at least for the moment, I was happy not to talk. His hands dug into my hips and ground me against him, a small groan escaping his lips where they’d melded with mine. My heart sang.

There was a clanking, echoey sound, and the lights rose again. The visual equivalent of dousing us in a bucket of cold water. “Not on my watch,” Erin’s disembodied voice said, magnified throughout the concert hall like she was some kind of music god.

I sputtered a laugh as I looked around the bright auditorium. “Is she watching us?”

“Probably,” Declan muttered. Despite his grin, his eyes were still hazy with desire. “She had to pull a few strings to convince them to let us in here. Can’t have us breaking any rules, I guess.”

Never mind the fact that rule-breaking had kind of become my new thing. But there’d be plenty of time for breaking the rules later—I hoped. I moved back to my own seat, hugging my arms around myself to warm all the places he was no longer touching me. “So I take it she’s not actually introducing me to Marcus Kowalczyk.”

For a moment, he stared at me with a flat expression. “Who?” Then realization dawned. “Oh, yeah, I’m pretty sure we’re all going out for drinks. Or the three of you are going out for drinks, I mean. Don’t mind me. I’ve just …” He ran a hand over the back of his neck, visibly nervous. “Inserted myself into your evening, I guess.” There was another pause, and then his expression shifted from awkward to stricken. “Please don’t turn that into a dirty joke.”

I shook with laughter. “Would I really be me, though, if I didn’t turn it into a dirty joke?”

“Probably not,” he conceded with a badly concealed smile. “And I do prefer you to be you.”

“So, are you inserting yourself into this one evening, or are we talking about more than one night?” I waggled a brow, because there was definitely a dirty joke in there somewhere, but I was more than happy to let that one speak for itself.

He looked like he couldn’t decide whether he should laugh or bury his face in his hands. “I think maybe I’ve mentioned my thoughts on one-night stands. So, yes. More than one night.” His hazel eyes flitted over my face, and I thought that maybe his usual curiosity had settled into something else—something warmer, more familiar. “If you’ll have me.”

I feigned having to think about it, tapping a finger to my chin. “Hmmm.”

“Take your time.” He folded his arms and sank into the chair like he was settling in for a long concert. “I’ll be right here, if you need me.”