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You don’t have a plan.
Then I better think of one quick because the last thing I need is to spend more time with Declan. I’m already weak when it comes to him.
“Try me.”
Fuck.
“I’ll probably watch TV all day until my brain melts.”
“Sounds absolutely riveting.”
The glass door shakes with another rumble of thunder. I take it as my hint to get out of here before Declan asks me any more questions.
“At least you can spend the day catching up on work. I’m sure it kills you to be away from your computer for more than twenty-four hours.” I send him one last smile over my shoulder before I exit the room.
The clapping of his leather shoes against the tile follows me all the way into the living room. I try to ignore him, but he makes it progressively difficult as he parks himself on the couch beside me, leaving only a cushion between us.
“What are you doing?” I frown.
“An experiment.”
“Pardon?” I choke the remote control.
“I want to see just how many hours it takes before your brain melts. Strictly for scientific purposes.”
Oh my God. Does he actually want to spend time with you outside of staged events and social media propaganda?
“You want to join me?”
“I have nothing better to do.”
That has to be the biggest backhanded compliment I’ve ever received, yet it makes me smile nonetheless. Declan has plenty of things to do. He could spend the day catching up on work that is piling up during our vacation, but he would rather watch TV with me.
A fluttering sensation in my stomach makes me antsy. I shouldn’t obsess over something as small as Declan sacrificing his work to spend time with me, but I do anyway. This is a man who will make business deals from his bed with a fever of a hundred and three. Him taking a day off to do nothing but watch TV is huge.
Don’t get used to it.
Easier said than done. Because if Declan keeps doing sweet things like this, I might start craving them. And that can only lead to one thing.
Disappointment.
I turn on the smart TV, sign into my streaming service account, and choose my comfort home renovation show, hoping it can ease the anxiety bubbling inside of me. I tuck my legs under me and get comfortable. It doesn’t take long for the weight pressing against my chest to lessen, and I’m grateful for it.
By the time the credits roll, I expect Declan to rise up and dismiss himself from the rest of my plans. He remains seated as the next episode starts automatically.
“You don’t have to stick around if you don’t want to,” I offer him an out.
He only replies by grabbing the remote from the coffee table and putting the volume louder.
Well, that answers everything.
He wants to spend time with you.
My skin tingles in response, and I can’t help hiding my smile with a throw pillow.
* * *
“Another one?” he grumbles before shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth.
