Page 44 of Declan
“True,” I say, smiling. “But that’s different. He likes to brag about what a Rottweiler you are in business. It’s one of his favorite things about you. But I know for a fact he’ll shut down anyone who tries to talk shit about you when you’re not around to handle it yourself.” Leaning forward, I clue her in. “He’s your boss. He won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting you.”
“You’re not my boss. I mean, you are, but you aren’t.”
“I know. But right now, I’m not acting as your boss.”
“Then what?”
“Like a man, protective of a woman. It’s not that complicated.”
She presses her palms to the table. “Let me get this straight. You’re shy, but only with me. You like how confident I am, but you still stare down anyone who’s looking at me funny. You go all protective alpha when it comes to driving. You’re a reformed car thief, and you’re going to make the D.A. back down by being a computer god.” A bright giggle comes out of her. “And you think you’re boring?”
Her laughter breaks free, rolling from her like waves. She’s clutching her stomach, and her head is thrown back. Every eye in the room is on her, and I don’t blame them. She’s stunning.
She finally winds down, shaking her head and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Do you hear how stupid that sounds?”
I tug at my earlobe. “Ah, well, I didn’t really think of it like that.”
“Then what made you think you were boring?”
“I think, maybe, it had more to do with what I think your life is like. You seem to thrive at your club. Up till three, always socializing. And I’m just...not like that.”
“What do you like doing, then? You’ve been going out more. I heard Zach talking about it. You’re not enjoying it.”
“No. I don’t like the clubs.”
“Then why are you going?” Her eyes turn, knowing because I can’t fucking hide my expressions around her. “Me? It had to do with me?”
“This is going to sound stupid,” I warn her. She leans forward, eyes wide. “Colt figured I needed to build my confidence somehow. So he thought if I went to the clubs and practiced talking to women, it would help.”
“Did it?” she asks, a sharp edge in her words. “Did picking up other women make you feel more manly?”
Even an idiot could hear the danger in those words. “That’s what the plan was. Turns out, I have no problem talking to other women.” Her mouth tightens, and I like the hint of jealousy. At least, I hope it’s jealousy. It feels good to not be in it alone. “Also, turns out I’m not interested in other women. Figured that out pretty quickly.”
“Oh,” she says softly, propping her chin in her hand. “Then why did you keep going?”
“Partly because it was a distraction. Partly because I kept hoping I’d see you.”
I thought she was beautiful before, but when she blushes, I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach. I’ve never once, in nearly three years, seen her blush. I don’t know this woman as well as I thought I did. I want to know so much more. I want to know all of her.
It’s time. I’m going to do it. No more waiting. No more running.
“Cara, would you go on a date with me?”
22
CARA
Y ou know how you feel when you’ve been singing along to a song for years, then someone points out you’ve got the lyrics wrong? And everything you thought you knew in the world gets shifted? That’s how I feel right now.
I’ve been asked out more times than I can count. They’re simple words, will you go on a date with me? But suddenly, everything is different.
He’s staring at me, mouth pulled tight, and I realize I haven’t given him an answer. But the answer, which would have been a screaming yes only a month ago, isn’t as obvious now.
“I do like you a lot. I have for a long time. I started looking for you at work every day because I liked you. I didn’t realize you were shy.” Shit. I wince. “Okay, that’s a lie. I thought maybe you were once or twice, but then I’d see you talking with other women in the office, and you didn’t react the same way with them. I thought it was just me. That you didn’t like me.”
He’s already shaking his head, which is soothing. “It’s easy to talk to other women, Cara, because they’re not you.” The words are harsh, but the emotion behind them is stunning. “Why...why didn’t you ever give up on me? If you thought I didn’t like you the same way?”
Twisting in the booth, I rest my back on the wall and pull my feet up onto the bench.
