Chapter 38: Thirty Eight

The light streaming through my window was hitting me right on my face. But I loved the morning sun. Morning, light, lazy.

Declan’s arm was draped across my waist, his hand resting on my hip. He hadn’t let go of me once through the night. He was still asleep, breathing slow and steady behind me. I hadn’t moved. Not in hours. Not even to check the time.

I didn’t want to wake him.

Didn’t want to wake anything.

I wished I could have this every morning. His body curled against mine. My body letting him.

I let my eyes flutter shut again.

But peace doesn’t last long in a shared apartment.

The door creaked.

“Jesus Christ.”

Cassie.

I bolted upright, nearly smacking my head against Declan’s chin.

“Cassie…” I started, fumbling for the sheet to cover myself.

“Oh, don’t bother,” she said, standing in the doorway with one hand on her hip, the other holding her phone. “I’ve already seen enough to develop a migraine.”

Declan sat up behind me slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, unbothered. Infuriatingly composed.

Cassie narrowed her eyes. “Of course. He’s hot and smug.”

“Cass,” I muttered, clutching the blanket to my chest. “Can you just… can you give us a second?”

“Oh no,” she said. “I gave you all the seconds last night when I heard a very distinct male voice walk in at midnight. I just didn’t expect it to still be here at sunrise. And I thought it was Jacob! What is he doing here?”

I groaned.

Declan cleared his throat. “I can go.”

“No,” I said quickly. Then looked at him. “Just give me a minute with her?”

He nodded, grabbed his shirt off the floor, and stepped out of my room, silent as always.

The second the door clicked shut behind him, Cassie turned to me with a look I knew too well.

“I thought we were past this.”

“It wasn’t planned,” I said softly.

“Oh, come on, Willow. It’s always not planned. That’s the entire problem with him, isn’t it?”

I looked down at my hands.

Cassie sighed and sat at the edge of my bed. “You don’t have to explain. I know you like him. I know it’s messy. I know it’s easy to say I wouldn’t be in your shoes when I’m not in your shoes.”

“But?”

“But he’s still your professor. Still making you cry half the week. And now he’s here, in your bed, like everything’s fine.”

I stayed quiet, then, “Its different now. We’re…kind of dating.”

“Dating?” She yelled, “Fucking hell, Willow. Are you hearing yourself?”

I swallowed the ache in my throat.

“I know.”

Then she stood, gave me one last look, and left the room.

I pulled the blanket tighter around me.

The door clicked open a few minutes after Cassie left.

Declan stepped back into the room, now fully dressed, his dark jeans, that same black hoodie he’d been wearing last night. He looked put back together. Except for the tension tightening his jaw. And the way you could tell he needed to wash his face after waking ip.

I sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at him. I had worn my T-shirt again and was wringing my hands in my lap.

He didn’t speak right away. Just crossed the room, picking up his watch from the nightstand.

Finally, he broke the silence. “So… she thought I was Jacob.”

I winced. “She didn’t mean anything by it.”

He gave me a look, his eyes narrowing. “It kind of sounded like she did.”

“Declan…”

He exhaled through his nose and leaned back against my desk, crossing his arms. “How often is he here?”

“Never,” I said. “You know that.”

“Do I?”

I stared at him. “You slept next to me all night and the first thing on your mind is him?”

His expression softened, just barely. “What did you expect? After I heard that conversation?”

“You’re being such an ass about this, Declan.”

He sighed, “Its…”

I waited.

He ran a hand through his hair and looked away. “I  hate that I can’t be the person people assume you’re with. That even your best friend thinks it would make more sense if I were Jacob.”

I stood slowly, wrapping my arms around myself. “She’s just being protective of me.”

“I’m not upset about that. Fuck, Willow,” he swore, “Why don’t you get it? I fucking hate the mention of another guy. When its about you.”

“And,” he continued, “I don’t even know what place he holds in your life. If I could I would claim you in front of everyone so he knows to stay away.”

“You do know,” I said, quieter now.

He looked at me. He shook his head.

“Can she be trusted?”

“Cassie?” I blinked. “Of course she can.”

“Because if this gets out…”

“I know,” I said gently. “She wouldn’t do that to me. She’s angry because she cares. Not because she’s reckless.”

Declan watched me for a moment. “You told her?”

“She’s my best friend..”

He nodded, slowly. “I just… I don’t want this to blow up in your face. Or mine. Not yet.”

I stepped toward him and placed a hand on his arm. “She won’t tell. I promise.”

Declan looked down at my fingers on his sleeve. Then back up at me.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked, his voice lower now. “About us?”

The question landed somewhere deep in my chest.

I didn’t answer with words.

I stood on my toes and kissed him, soft, lingering, quiet. And when I pulled away, I rested my forehead against his.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” I repeated his words from last night.

His hands curled around my waist.