Page 116 of One Night Only
“I know your dad runs a post office.”
“Of course I go to the gym.”
“I go to Claire’s gym,” I say, my eyes on the skin of his throat visible above his collar. “Her trainer says if I keep up the good work, I’ll no longer be dead by forty-seven.”
“Sounds like you’re making great progress.”
I shrug, still not meeting his eyes. The way he’s holding me, one arm wrapped around my waist, the other still clutching my hand, it’s like he’s about to spin me around a dance floor. But there’s no music other than the traffic below. And no movement other than Declan’s thumb gently brushing my fingers.
“How are the shoes?” he asks after a moment.
“They’re okay.”
“You want to sit down?”
I nod jerkily and when I break away, he doesn’t try to stop me.
We settle on weathered sun loungers and the imagery is not lost on me. We’re sitting exactly as we were in that hotel in Ireland. But in very different circumstances.
For one, I don’t have to worry about a crying Annie upstairs.
And for two… there’s no more pretending he’s just a one—or two—night stand.
Declan tosses his jacket over the back of his chair and rolls up his sleeves.
Those damn buttons.
I imagine ripping the rest of them off as I climb on top of him.
He glances over as if hearing my thoughts and I make myself meet his gaze.
“Freddy always posts pictures of himself up here,” he says when I do. “I always wanted to see it for myself.”
“It’s really cool.”
“Romantic, some might say.”
“Some might.”
“Come on,” he says laughing. “Give me some points for trying at least.”
I want to give him a lot more than that.
“You should open a bar up here,” I say to distract myself. “You’d make a fortune.”
“Yeah, that’s what this city needs. Another rooftop bar.”
I smirk, trying to get more comfortable. “Annie really is moving to Ireland, you know. Not just an idea anymore. An official plan. They’re going to try and start a family. With a house and a garden and a dog and everything.”
“Are you jealous?”
I pause, thrown by the question. Jealous? I hadn’t considered jealousy before. “No,” I say slowly, trying to find the right words for what I do feel. “Sad, I think. It doesn’t feel time yet. Maybe for her, but not for me. It feels like she’s cutting it all short. Like we had so much more to do.”
But there’s something else as well. Something I’d never really had before. An increasing longing for what they have. What I thought I had with Josh.
“You ever think you’ll leave?” Declan asks.
“New York?” I shrug. “I haven’t really thought about it. But probably. It’s what most people do, isn’t it?”
