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Declan
Christ, the woman lying in my arms is fucking perfect. Her body was made to fit mine. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough. I wrap my arms around her, tucking her into my chest. Nothing has ever felt so natural. Not even football, and I took my first steps with a ball in my hands.
Annabelle’s long legs tangle with mine as she draws lazy circles on my chest.
There’s something about waking up with her here. In my home. In my bed. It’s comfortable and exciting. It’s fucking insane how much I still want her, as if we hadn’t spent the entire night exploring all the ways to make each other scream before morning came and threatened to break the spell.
Lifting her chin, I ask, “Tell me you feel it, this crazy connection we’ve got? I felt it in June and every single time I’ve seen you since. I’ve never felt this before.”
My words hang in the air unanswered, causing the post-sex euphoria I felt moments ago to crash and burn.
Annabelle sits up, holding the soft black sheet in front of her. “Declan...” she trails off, her eyes scanning the room, the ceiling, the bed. Looking anywhere but at me.
I mirror her, sitting up and leaning against the oversized black leather headboard. “Annabelle, please look at me.”
Slowly, she lifts her glistening emerald eyes to mine. What the fuck? Is she crying? “Annabelle?” I reach for her, but she pulls away.
“No, Dec. If you touch me, I’m going to fall right back into your arms, and I can’t do that. I need to get through this.” She spins the gold infinity band she wears on her middle finger before wiping away her tears and pushing her hair out of her face. “I feel the electricity. Of course, I feel it too. But that’s all it can be, Dec. You’re a great guy, and you deserve so much more than the baggage I bring to the table.”
I interrupt her, “You’ve got to know that I don’t think of Tommy as baggage.”
Bright green eyes flame in front of me. “I was not calling my brother baggage.” For a moment, I think she’s about to go to war, but she deflates before my eyes. “My whole life is baggage, Declan. I survive day-to-day. Most days, I thank God I kept it together long enough to get to the next day. I’ve got the studio, and I’ve got Tommy. And I’ve got a whole heap of guilt and regret. I am the oldest twenty-three-year-old you’ll ever meet. I could keep a psychologist in business for years, talking through my issues, Dec. You deserve someone who can be all-in, and that’s not me.”
“Annabelle.” I reach for her again, but she stands, wrapping herself in the sheet.
“No, Dec.” She tightens the sheet around her chest. “You’re Philly’s newest football god. You’re the real King of Kroydon Hills. You could have any girl you wanted. You deserve someone who can help you bear the weight of that crown. Someone who can make you a priority. Someone who’s not scared every day of losing another person she loves.” A tear falls down her cheek. “And that’s not me. This was so much fun, but that’s all it can be. I don’t have room in my life for a relationship, and that’s not going to change.”
“But Belle.” My voice softens as I see more tears well in her eyes. “I’m not a god, I’m a man. I may not be the smartest man you’ve ever met, but I know enough to know that a connection like ours doesn’t happen all the time. Don’t you want to see where this can go?”
“I can’t, Dec. I just can’t right now,” her voice cracks. “I’m sorry.” She turns and starts looking for her dress just as I hear a phone ringing in the other room. “Shit. That’s my cell.” She begins frantically searching through our discarded clothes lying on the dark hardwood floor. “Where the hell did I leave my purse?”
“I think it’s near the front door,” I tell her as I jump out of bed.
Belle runs out of the room, so I pull on a pair of boxers and follow her down the hall.
By the time I get to the living room, she’s sitting on the couch, wearing my sheet like a strapless toga and wrapped in the soft gray throw blanket that sits on the back of a chair. The sun is beginning to trickle in through the curtains, reminding me that it’s later than I thought.
The phone is at her ear, but her eyes swing to me as a gasp escapes her lips, “Oh my God, Natalie. What happened?”
Coming to a stop in front of her, I watch the color drain from her face.
“Are Nattie and Tommy okay?” I ask, sitting down next to her. My heart hammers in my chest as I wait for her answer.
She nods and continues listening to whatever my sister is telling her. “Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Give me a few minutes.” She’s listening to Nattie as her eyes dart nervously around the room. “Right. Be there soon.” Once the call ends, the first tear falls right before she climbs into my lap and wraps her arms around me.
“Jesus, Belle. What happened? Is everyone okay?” I start to cycle through all the people we care about who could be hurt right now.
Sniffling, she says, “Our friends are okay, but their friends aren’t.”
I haven’t slept enough to decipher this. “What are you trying to tell me?” I ask as I cradle her face.
“One of the guys from the Kroydon University team and his fiancée were in a car accident this morning. She’s dead, and he’s in surgery. They don’t know if he’s going to make it.”
“Nattie, Tommy, and the guys are fine though, right? My sister and your brother are fine?” I wipe her tears away with my thumbs, and she nods again.
“They’re fine. Thank God, they’re okay. It just hits a little too close to home. I remember getting that call. I remember Tommy waking up in the hospital and having to tell my scared little brother that our parents were gone.” She takes a shaky breath. “It makes my heart hurt thinking about it. Plus, Nat and the guys are really upset. She said I should probably come get Tommy. He’s okay. Well actually, he’s totally oblivious right now. Obliviousness is his superpower.” She buries her face in my neck and lets me hold her while she pulls herself together—the discussion from a few minutes before seemingly forgotten.
I stand, scooping her into my arms and walk back into my bedroom, placing her on my bed. Then, I go into my closet to grab a hoodie and sweats. “Sorry, I don’t really have anything that’s gonna fit you.”
