Chapter 48: Forty Eight

I woke up happy and refreshed, the soft sounds of the lake filtering in through the open window, and the smell of wood and water mixing deliciously in the house. I was already excited to go for a swim again.

The bed was warm, the sheets tangled around my legs, but empty. I had wanted to wake up to Declan, in his arms. I looked at the time on my phone. It was 9 AM. I guess he had woken up earlier.

For a moment, I just lay there, trying to wrap myself in the haze of last night. The laughter, the swim, the kiss in the dark water. The way he’d carried me inside like it meant something.

Like I meant something.

And the wicked, dirty things he had done to me last night. I could still feel a deep ache inside me. A delicious, deep ache that was like a promise of more to come.

The pillow beside mine still held the faint indentation of where Declan had been. I rolled onto my side and pressed my face into it, smiling to myself like a teenager. It smelled like him. I took in the scent like I was a madwoman. I almost was. So obsessed with him. My heart felt light and swollen at the same time.

The air was cool, but not enough to keep me from sliding out from under the covers. I padded across the room in bare feet and spotted his shirt from last night draped over the armchair. I slipped it on, soft cotton, too big on me, and smelling faintly of his cologne and lake water.

It made my heart squeeze.

I made my way downstairs, guided by the faint sounds of something sizzling and a low hum of music. I paused at the bottom step.

Declan stood in the kitchen, barefoot in grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, flipping something in a pan. His hair was messy from sleep, his jaw dark with stubble, and he was humming, off-key, to some old rock song playing softly from a speaker.

I leaned against the doorframe and watched him.

He looked happy. At ease.

And I felt happy. At ease.

He turned just then and caught me watching. A smile broke across his face.

“Well, good morning,” he said, giving me a look over. “You wear my shirt better than I do.”

I crossed my arms, smirking. “I know.”

He walked over, still holding the spatula, and kissed me slowly, softly. His lips were always impossibly soft. “Hungry?” he asked against my mouth.

“Starving,” I murmured. “But not just for food.”

He groaned and kissed me again.

“Let me feed you first,” he whispered, voice low and teasing. “Then I’ll see about the rest.”

“I wanted to wake up to you in bed, you know.” I whispered.

“I’m sorry, dove,” he smiled against my lips, “I’ll make it up to you.”

We settled at the little round table by the window, morning light spilling in across the wood, lighting up the whole room. It really was such a well lit house. Declan had made scrambled eggs, toast, and cut up some fruit. On the plate, it was all arranged with a kind of casual care that made me weirdly emotional.

“You cooked,” I said, pretending to be dramatic. “Color me impressed.”

He passed me a plate and smirked. “I aim to impress. But I’m hurt, Willow.” He feigned heartache by clutching his chest, “You think I’m just a hot academic who can’t even cook for his woman?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t think you could cook. Don’t you have a housekeeper or something?”

He nodded. “Well, she just cleans.”

I shook my head. “I don’t understand rich people.”

We ate slowly, talking in soft voices like the morning might break if we got too loud. Between bites, he told me more about the lake house, how his parents used to bring him here every summer until high school, how he’d snuck out with friends to swim at night, how the power once went out for three days straight and they survived on campfire food and bad board games.

I listened, chin in hand, feeling like I was being let in on something precious.

When we were done, he stood to clear the dishes and looked over his shoulder at me.

“So,” he said, “I was thinking...”

I arched an eyebrow. “Dangerous start.”

He rolled his eyes. “You should use the day to study. I mean it. You’ve got a lot coming up. No distractions, no pressure. Just... work.”

My smile dipped slightly. “So you’re kicking me to the study corner?”

“Only until tonight,” he added quickly, stepping closer and brushing a crumb from my chin with his thumb. “Then I’m making dinner, and we go for a night swim.”

I grinned up at him, my chest warming. “That actually sounds... perfect.”

His hand lingered on my jaw, eyes soft. “Yeah,” he murmured. “It does.”

Then his eyes lit up mischievously. “I’ll test you later at night, on whatever you study today.” His head dipped to lay a soft kiss on my neck, “How the night goes depends on you.”

I sucked in my breath. “I like a challenge.”

And somehow, even the idea of studying all day didn’t feel so bad, not when I knew what was waiting at the other end of it.

Just as I leaned in to kiss him, a sudden creak echoed through the house, the unmistakable sound of the front door opening.

Declan froze.

We both turned toward the hallway.

Footsteps. Voices.

“Well, I told you we should’ve called first - ”

“Nonsense, Declan’s always happy to see us.”

The clatter of keys on a side table. The soft thud of luggage being set down. My stomach dropped.

“Declan?” a woman’s voice called out brightly. “We picked up some groceries on the way!”

Declan’s hand dropped from my face. His eyes widened slightly, panic flashing across his features.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, jumping to my feet, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that I was wearing nothing but his oversized shirt and underwear. “Declan.”

He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“I... I didn’t think they were coming this weekend,” he said under his breath, moving quickly to block the view of the kitchen from the hall. “Stay here.”

But it was too late.

An older couple appeared at the doorway. His mother, elegant, well-dressed, and clearly surprised, blinked at me. Her gaze swept over my bare legs, my messy hair, and landed squarely on Declan’s rumpled state.

“Oh,” she said, voice tight. “We didn’t realize you had... company.”

His father raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

Declan stepped forward, his body covering mine. “Mom, Dad. This is Willow.”

I tried to muster a polite smile, but my face was burning.

His mother’s eyes didn’t move from me. “Well. Isn’t this cozy.”

I suddenly wished the lake would rise up and swallow me whole.