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“I’ve never heard that one before,” I say, glancing at him. “Is it new?”

His shoulder bumps into mine. “Something I wrote recently.” He gets the little half smile on his face that only comes out when he’s talking about his music, the faintest blush coloring his cheeks.

“You’re writing again?” It’s been a while for him. Or at least, a while since he’s shared anything new with me.

Declan takes the joint from me. “I write when there’s shit to get out of my system, you know?” His hand slows, pausing with the joint halfway to his lips. “Just like you paint to get those things out. I had some things that were… making me a little fucked up on the inside.”

His eyes darken a little as he looks at me, and there’s something about his tone that betrays more than just his words do.

He was worried.

About me.

I suck in a breath. “Yeah? Stress and stuff?” I don’t trust myself to say anything more than that.

“Yeah.


I don’t know how to deal with the warmth that blossoms in my chest at the realization that he cares more than he’s letting on. It makes my heart ache in a good way, and that pleasant thrum scares the fuck out of me.

“Could I hear it?” I ask, instead of lingering on what exactly it was that was fucking him up. “The words?”

He doesn’t respond, just passes the joint back to me and starts… singing. Almost a little shyly at first, but as he grows confident, his deep baritone sends chills down my spine. He catches my gaze as he sings, and I know he’s not giving me the raw version, the version where he lets himself completely feel all of the words he’s saying, but I can still feel every emotion, every pulse of his heart in the lyrics.

His voice dies to a hum again, his song coming to an end as a smile creeps over his face. It’s an almost boyish look on his face, and it’s one of the most gorgeous things I’ve ever seen.

“That was beautiful,” I blurt, fighting the urge to blink back tears that prickle behind my eyes. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, but that was really… it was lovely.”

He kicks his dangling legs, looking down at them instead of me. “Yeah, it was okay.”

I frown. “No. It was good. It was amazing. You should put it out there. Record it and post it somewhere. It’s not fair to create something that beautiful only to keep it locked up. It deserves to be shared with the world.”

His gaze darts to mine, and something in my chest constricts. I’m not quite sure what it is that I see lingering behind his eyes, but I don’t have to think about it long—not when he palms the back of my head a second later, his lips finding mine in a kiss I feel through every atom of my body.

Maybe it’s the drugs that make my head spin a little.

Or maybe it’s just Declan.

And when he reaches up with his other hand to cup my face between his palms and deepen the kiss, I know it’s not the drugs that are making my body ache and my heart pound. He lets out a groan that rumbles in his chest as his tongue slides out to taste me, tracing along the seam of my lips.

The joint slips from between my fingers, dropping onto that pretty elite rooftop garden below us, but I don’t give a shit. Not when Declan’s fingers are sliding through my hair, pulling me closer. Not when he kisses me so deeply that I feel like I’m falling.

When we finally break apart, a small laugh escapes his lips, his exhale ghosting over my skin as his thumbs brush over my cheekbones.

“I’m glad you came here, Soph. To Hawthorne.” His voice is raw and vulnerable, so full of honesty that it makes my heart stutter. He’s not trying to hide anything, not trying to lie to himself or me about the way this is making him feel. “I’m glad as hell I met you.”

Little flecks of lighter shades in his dark brown eyes gleam in the light as the sun filters down on us. My whole body feels like it’s buzzing, like I’m floating somewhere happy, safe.

“Me too.”

With that quiet admission, I pull away from him and rest my head on his shoulder, the woodsy, warm scent that I’ve come to associate only with Declan still lingering in my nostrils.

I’ve been alone for so long that it’s hard to wrap my mind around the fact that I have four people, Max and the guys, who seem to feel something for me other than disgust or hate.

All my life, I’ve never known what it was like to be cared for, and now…

Don’t get used to it, I tell myself. Nothing lasts forever.


Tags: Eva Ashwood Sinners of Hawthorne University Romance