Page 3 of Declan

“Sounds like a lot of work.”

“Most things are when they’re worth it.”

I take a sip from my drink, looking back across the table as I think over her words. A few moments go by, and those brown eyes suddenly lock with mine. I smile, knowing full well she won’t reciprocate, and then I smile wider as her eyes narrow, and she glares at me.

She waits for a few beats and then turns back to the person she was speaking to, and I turn my attention to Jessica and ask, “What’s her problem?”

“She hates you,” she replies dryly. “You probably don’t remember that you’ve crossed paths a few times, and you’ve been kind of a douche.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t read the gossip rags?” she asks incredulously.

I shake my head, my lip curling in distaste. “Why the fuck would I do that? If I want to hear bad shit about myself, I just call my brother. At least he has a clue what he’s talking about.”

“Well, maybe you should do some research before attempting to change your entire personality and lifestyle. Because you’re gonna have your work cut out for you.”

“A challenge,” I say softly. “I do like a challenge.”

Jessica gives me an impatient look and says, “If it’s only for the challenge, don’t fucking bother. If you go out of your way to make an effort and end up hurting her, I will fucking end you.”

Her expression is as serious as her words, and though I’m not entirely convinced she could actually end me, I do believe she would try her damnedest. I lean close and whisper, “Regardless of how my efforts turn out, I would never hurt her.”

She searches my eyes for a few moments and then nods. “Then let me know how I can help.”

I sit back, genuinely surprised that she would offer to help a man of my reputation win the affection of someone she’s close to. “You’d really help?”

She glances across the table again, an almost sad expression on her face. Then she looks back at me and leans over, saying quietly, “You know what they say. Sometimes, it’s the enemy you know.”

She pats me on the leg and then moves back to her original seat, and I remove my phone from my pocket, strategically holding it so I have Issa on the screen as Jessica says something, earning a beaming smile from her.

I snap the picture.

My beginning.

1

An Unofficial Declaration

Declan

TwoMonthsLater…

Normally, I fucking hate promotional appearances.

It’s always the same bullshit: people confused between kissing your ass and attempting to passive-aggressively bait you into acting like a shithead so they can use it for views.

It’s a well-known fact that if you want a potentially twitchy asshole on your show, then you call Declan Hughes.

I’m also a professional at turning the tables on them and making them pay for their supposed win, but still, they never learn.

I said I was done making public appearances but then agreed to appear on this show for two reasons. First, the host is a doll of a woman. She’s one of America’s sweethearts and the first winner of a singing show back when singing shows were still new. Second, she promised me she’d inviteherto also appear alongside me, a fact I’m sure no one shared with her, or else she would most definitely have declined.

I’m waiting in the wings, watching the two women smile and laugh, and I fear I’ve been smiling along with them the entire time. She does that to me, makes me soft and gooey and thinking crazy thoughts about settling down and being a family man.

I’ve even considered asking her out, something I rarely have to think about because, for starters, I’m Declan fucking Hughes, but then I remember two reasons why asking her out at this point would be silly.

One, she fucking hates me.

---