Page 40 of Declan
“Aren’t gamers all caffeine addicts? How are you getting your fix?”
“Way too many energy drinks. I’m trying to cut back. Colt thinks the way they make my heart race isn’t healthy.” He scrunches up his nose. “He’s probably right.” I smile at that, then turn my attention to the room. This restaurant would probably best be described as a dive. But it’s clean and warm, and right now, that’s pretty damn close to heaven. I grab my phone, hoping for a signal, but get nothing.
“The storm might have knocked out a tower,” Declan says, studying me. “But Bree can call the guys, and they’ll let her know we’re safe. If she needs anything, they’ll take care of her.”
“How is she supposed to call anyone? No one’s at the office until Monday.”
“I gave her all our cell numbers earlier this week.”
“Wait. You did? Ransom made it pretty fucking clear those numbers were never to be given out, on pain of losing my job.” I get exactly why. Some of the staff have a habit of running to the guys to solve problems they should be handling themselves. It’s better they come through me, and I can tell them to figure their shit out themselves.
He shrugs. “That’s only for staff. You and Bree are different.”
“How is she different?”
“You know,” he says, eyes somber. “She’s one of ours now. She’s living in our building.”
“And me?”
“You were always ours. I think you wormed your way in there from the first day.” The memory of Ransom’s part in getting us here rises, and he must see it. “It’s me. Ransom moved you around like a chess piece. But it’s because of me.” He takes a deep breath and grips the edge of the table. “You’re pretty much all I think about, Cara. Have been for years. Ransom knows that. And maybe...they thought you might like me too.”
I’m frozen in the booth. My worry over Bree, already calmed by Declan’s assurance that his brothers will look after her, fades away as his words reverberate in my chest. It doesn’t make any sense. But also, maybe it does?
“I’m all you think about? I...that doesn’t make sense. You run. Like, bolt from me.”
He winces and nods but doesn’t drop his eyes. Or run from the table. No, he just sits there, looking at me. It shocks the shit out of me.
“Yeah. Not my finest moments, for sure. Pretty embarrassing, honestly.”
“Why? Why do you run?”
He rubs his hand down his beard nervously. “I...have no frame of reference for you, Cara. Women coming onto me isn’t new. It’s been happening since we made money. But those girls...women. Shit. They’re not like you.”
“Not like me.” I’m not sure I like where this is going.
“No. I haven’t dated much. Not really.”
My eyes widen. “Are you a virgin?” Because that would explain a lot. I could totally teach him. I black out a little bit, thinking about practicing all the positions with him.
He groans, slumping in the seat. “No. For fuck’s sake. Why does everyone think that?”
My face flushes. “I’m sorry, it’s just you said you hadn’t dated much...”
He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curled into a grin. “Now Cara, dating, and fucking aren’t exactly the same thing. You know that. If I just wanted to fuck you, this would have been so much simpler.”
My thighs clench at the way he says ‘fuck you’. I’m thinking all kinds of naughty things now. Crap. “Simpler?”
“Yeah. It might have been a little awkward, but if all I wanted from you was sex, we’d have already done that...unless you’re telling me you aren’t into me? That you coming onto me every day at work was just a game for you?” His face shutters as he says the words.
“I wasn’t playing a fucking game.”
“Ok. Right. Good.” He swallows. “Good.” Is it, though?
“Dating?” I prompt, wanting this conversation back on track. Shit is getting interesting.
“Yeah. Um, I’ve dated, but most of the women I’ve dated are...similar. Kinda geeky. Sweet. Into video games. When we’d go out, we’d go to the movies.” He snorts. “Most of them I met gaming. We’d talk online more than in person. We were usually friends first.”
“But I’m different.”
