“How and when did you do this?”
He grins slowly and looks directly at me, “When you texted Ella you were coming home, she let me know. I had everything ready to cook. I’ve been waiting for you.”
I swallow and look straight at him, “You did this for me?”
“Absolutely”
“Why?”
“Raven, I wasn’t kidding. I want to know you. You’re amazing in a way I can’t explain. This is all new to me, just let me know if it’s too much.”
I reach under the table to squeeze his leg, “It’s not too much at all. I missed you these last few days. Do you have plans later tonight?”
I see him swallow hesitantly and I instantly recoil. Of course he has plans; he is fucking DECLAN COLLINS!
“No, I don’t have plans tonight. I was going to stay here.”
My heart races with excitement and I blush. He’s planning on staying here.
“Did you tell the girls you were staying?”
“No, I wanted to talk to you first.”
“Why?”
He sighs, “Raven, I want to stay here with you and I don’t want my fucking sisters involved. Do you want me to stay?”
Gulp.
“I want you to stay with me.”
“Thank Christ! We just need to put away the left-overs. Ella and I have a deal; she’s cleaning our dishes tonight so we can get some sleep.”
The way he says sleep makes me melt all over. I help him put the food away and we head towards my room. “Can I bring in my stuff, or do you want me to change in the hall bathroom?”
“Of course you can bring it in.” I tug him close enough to murmur in his ear, “You can shower in here as well.”
He slowly looks me up and down before he speaks, “Are you one-hundred percent better?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to watch TV before we go to bed?”
I swallow, I know what he’s asking, “No.”
“Are you ready for sleep?”
“No.”
“Good, then let’s get ready for bed. I have a story for you.”
After we got ready and changed our clothes, we get into bed. Declan tells me all about Saturday morning when he returned from football. He isn’t wearing a shirt again, but has athletic shorts on. They are silky against my bare legs and I’m having a hard time concentrating on his recap of the conversation with his sisters. Somewhere in the middle of the story he realizes I’m not paying attention. Instead, I’m rubbing my thighs against his.
“You seem distracted.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Nope, but I’m a little worried about how long I can hold out here. I’m trying to be a gentleman. I want to make sure you’re okay.”