Page 7 of Hooked on a Demon
“Fine,” she practically grunts at him. She turns and walks toward the door, dialing a number into her cell as she does.
“I can give you a ride to work, you know, if you want,” Declan calls after her, not knowing why these words fly out of his mouth.
“It’s fine. I’m calling a cab.”
“It will save you some money,” he says. He recalls Everest always saying she’s afraid to spend money, and given the potential cost of fixing her car, he can understand that she may want to save every penny she can.
She stops, hesitating, contemplating whether it’s worth it.
“Fine,” she evidently relents.
Declan leans over, picking up his keys from the side of the desk. He calls into the shop, letting one of the other guys know to bring her car in and that he’ll be back shortly before leading her around the corner to where he’s parked.
“No. Absolutely not,” she says.
“It’s what I drove to work today.”
“I am not getting on the back of your motorcycle.”
“Look, we can stand here and bicker, and you can eventually agree to get on, or you can agree now and save the energy,” Declan says, picking up his helmet and sliding it on before swinging a leg over the top. He pulls the extra helmet he carries around out of the cubby at the back and hands it to her. Glaring at him with the most beautiful hazel eyes, she takes it and puts it on. She swings a leg over and settles behind him. Her arms wrap around his stomach, and he will deny it until the day he dies, but he swears butterflies soar in his stomach as she embraces him. He’s spent years chasing this feeling. No one has ever been able to make him feel anything other than hollow. Now, his best friend’s sister is here with her arms begrudgingly wrapped around him and his mind is busy spinning through all the ways he can try to keep her there. “Wanna tell me where we’re going?”
“Strike a Pose dance studio.”
“Which is where, exactly?”
“Get us to the corner of Frost and Hemlock, and I’ll direct you from there,” she says flatly.
Declan nods quickly before leaning the bike slightly to release the kickstand and pushing the start button. The bike roars to life beneath them, the familiar vibration calming his fluttering stomach.
CHAPTER6
Eliana
With her arms wrapped around Declan’s midsection, they ride through Leeside, where she has no choice but to inhale his oak and oil scent. It’s masculine, whatever that means, and fills her nose, working itself into every crevice of her being. The few times she’d met Declan and been near him, she could never remember him smelling sointoxicating. The strip of long hair down the center of his head is braided down the back of his head, with the end of it peeking out of the bottom of the helmet. What she can see of the sandy-colored strands this close-up reminds her of the beaches she saw while traveling in her early twenties.
Burying her face into his back, she inhales deeply, feeling an innate urge to imprint him on her skin. To burn his presence onto her being, for fear that she may never experience being this close to him again. She pulls her hands together a little tighter, feeling the give of his soft stomach underneath. She can feel the strength within him, but the outer layer is soft. Comforting even. Despite every effort not to, her mind wanders, wondering what it would be like to rest her head on it. Would he be soft and welcoming like a comfy bed?
Tapping his shoulder, she signals for him to turn right. Her studio is up the street, and it quickly dawns on her that this ride is almost over. Which means she may not see him again, as she doesn’t know if he’ll be there when she picks up her car. Does she want to see him again? Her gut tells her yes. But why?
Because he’s currently making your pulse sing.
But he’s Everest’s friend. His best friend. Her big brother’s best friend isn’t going to want to hang out with her.
You don’t know unless you ask.
She groans internally.
“What was that?” Declan asks, turning off the ignition.
“Hmm?”
“You said something? Or you were about to say something?”
Shit. Apparently, that groan was more external than she intended.
An embarrassed flush rushes up her neck as she swings a leg over the seat, holding her bag in place on her back and disembarking while trying to hide her reaction. Turning to face him, her eyes meet his.
Fucking hell, his eyes are perfect.As she goes to thank him, his crystal blue eyes quickly flare with something. Fire? Anger? Annoyance. She’s not one hundred percent sure. But whatever it is, it sends goosebumps from her fingers to her toes.
