Just friends, p.23
Just Friends, page 23
Other couples fill the dance floor. The ones who have been married for decades are easy to see. Twirling and spinning each other around without any effort of thought displayed on their faces.
Declan leads the way, tugging me forward by the hand, and when he finds a clearing, spins me around, bringing his other hand to my waist in one fluid motion. A surprised laugh leaps out of me without my permission. I can’t help it. He is charming. It was objectively true. And fine, I could admit, I felt charmed.
We gently sway back and forth. The Righteous Brothers croon, “And time can do so much. Are you still mine?” And I swear Declan’s grip tightens around my waist at the lyric.
My stomach takes flight.
He seems to be enjoying this dance with me in the simplicity of our silence, but I am stewing with the secret of my decision to stay in Seabrook. I want to dive headfirst into whatever is happening between us, but I don’t want to scare him off by announcing I’ll be living in the cottage across the street on our first date.
But what was I going to do? Not tell him I was already living there? I wouldn’t be able to keep up the charade for more than a week.
“Declan,” I say in a rushed voice. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course,” he breathes, looking down at me like I’m precious to him. “You can tell me anything.”
I nod and catch myself grazing my teeth over my bottom lip.
“I called Ernst and Young.” Declan stiffens for a moment and takes us offbeat with the song. “To tell them I don’t want the job anymore.”
At first, his eyes widen like he’s not sure he heard me correctly. But then he exhales in a rush and smiles, shaking his head like he’s scared to feel hopeful.
“Because…” He quirks an eyebrow up in question, elongating the word while he waits for me to fill in.
“Because my mom needs me here. And… I want to be here. I know it sounds crazy, and way too fast, and you and I just started talking again, but you’re right. We should see where this will go because we’ve wasted so much time—”
The sound of my voice disappears as Declan cranes his head down to kiss me. The kiss is urgent, like he can’t go on living another second without pressing his lips to mine. I arch back with the force of it, and it makes me giggle like a lovesick girl, vibrating our lips. I feel his smile as it blooms.
He pulls back slowly.
“Woah, there.” I chuckle. “I didn’t know how you’d react, but I definitely forgot to consider whatever that was as an option.”
“Sorry.” His mouth quirks on one side. “Like you said, we’ve already wasted so much time.”
I tip my head back and laugh. All the built-up nervous energy escaping in a moment.
“You were scaring me, talking all slow like that. I thought I was already getting dumped not even halfway through our first dance. But no, this is the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”
“Really?” I ask in disbelief.
“Yes. Are you kidding me? Are you shocked by that?”
“Well… this is technically our first date—”
“Second first date.”
I laugh. “Right. Our second first date after four whole years, and I’m telling you I’m moving into the house across from yours. That doesn’t freak you out at all?”
“Why would the girl I’ve waited for my entire life moving in across the street freak me out?” He says it like it’s the truest thing about him. Like it’s obvious and he is unafraid.
“You’re not scared that we’re moving too fast? That whatever broke us apart back then won’t crop up and choke us out again?” I ask.
He stares down at me and presses his lips together in thought. His eyes sparkle in consideration in that way they always do when I’ve asked him something serious.
“No, Blair.” He shakes his head emphatically like he’s found his conclusion. Like I am his conclusion. “I think ‘moving too fast’ is the last thing someone would use to describe us.” He chuckles. “I’ve wanted you longer than I can remember wanting anything else. And there have always been things in the way. I’ll never forget always calculating how long we would have been dating by the time I got to propose to you. I thought sixteen years was a pretty huge bet, so might as well wait as long as possible to start dating you.” He smiles ironically, and I cough a laugh.
“There’s no way you were calculating marriage with me at, what? Eight?”
“Eh, I think seven.”
I swat his shoulder and gape up at him. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not!” he retorts. “I’m dead serious. It was torture. But now? There’s nothing in the way of us anymore, Blair. Nothing about being with you scares me at all. It’s being without you again that terrifies me.”
I let myself melt into his words for three full seconds before my body’s hardwiring kicks back in.
“Are you sure that’s the only thing that terrifies you about being with me? I can name a few more if you need help.” My attempt at veering the conversation out of serious territory fails before it’s even done leaving my mouth. Declan tilts his head at me with a knowing look and I know I can’t avoid the mixture of hope and panic growing in my chest. He knows all my tricks. And he doesn’t want to play when it comes to this.
“Sorry. It’s just a lot to take in. Yesterday morning I still thought I was leaving at the end of summer, and now…” I widen my eyes.
“I get it.” Declan squeezes my hand. “But promise me one thing.”
I nod up at him.
“Promise me you won’t run away again without an explanation.”
“Promise,” I say in a shallow breath.
The tension by his eyes seems to fade, and he looks at me like I’m a figment of his imagination.
And that makes things click. I ran away after our conversation about college; the prospect of both of us pursuing our goals seeming to tear us apart. And four and a half years later, he was still scared I would run away to chase those same ambitions. But circumstances changed, and so did my dreams. I wasn’t scaring him off by moving across the street from him, I was easing his biggest fears.
“Now, tell me, what was Pepperdine like for you?”
I laugh. Declan’s abrupt conversational habits were still so refreshing after all this time.
We spend the next four songs ignoring the beat as I tell him story after story about Roshi picking up guys at parties. About Faye being a fashion major who set up strange mannequins in random parts of Apartment 302. I would almost have a heart attack every time I went to the restroom in the middle of the night.
An older man shimmies up behind Declan and slaps him on the back. “It’s good to see you on the dance floor, buddy!” he says.
“No way! Mr. Lawson, it’s so good to see you.” Declan interrupts his own excitement to introduce me. “Mr. Lawson, this is Blair,” he says to the man. “Blair, meet the man who helped me walk again.”
My heart shudders. Both with heartbreak and relief. I’ve never been more grateful to someone I’ve never met before. I shake his hand and then watch as Declan talks with the most animated look on his face. I feel rightfully back in the place I always longed to be.
During a natural lull in conversation, I excuse myself and make my way back to find the dessert table. There are so many people who want to talk to him, being the son of the person hosting this event, and I’ve stolen him away for as much time as possible.
As I’m pushing through the crowd of swarming bodies, a hand grips my upper arm from behind.
“Blair,” a woman’s voice demands, and a cold sweat breaks out on my neck. I’d recognize that voice anywhere.
I spin around to find Gwen’s gorgeous face and tower of blond hair staring back at me with a grim expression.
“Mrs. Renshaw,” I say, practically bowing.
She smiles but it looks forced. “Can I offer you a drink? I want to talk somewhere a little quieter.”
“Oh,” I say in surprise. “No, that’s okay. I’m good with water.”
She presses her lips together and floats over to a sparser area. I follow her. Blood starts pounding in my ears. Seeing her up close makes me feel like the seventeen-year-old girl sitting on her porch again. I spent hours staring at the front door, patiently waiting for the chance to see her son. But instead, she swung the door open and told me Declan didn’t want to see me. That if I wanted what was best for him and his recovery, I would leave him alone. And I obeyed. A little too well.
“So, are you and Declan on again?”
The ball in my throat constricts. “On again?” I choke out.
“Sorry, is that not something the kids say these days?” she chortles. “On again? You know, like dating.”
“Oh!” My heart lurches. Gwen was always kind to me as a kid, but something about her aura right now feels threatening. Like I need to choose my words carefully. “Technically, I think Declan and I are on our first date for the first time in…” My voice goes quiet. “In four years. But I think the intention is to date again, yes.”
I hold my breath, not sure what I’m hoping for. Her approval, I suppose.
“Wow. You guys are brave.” She mumbles the last part as her eyes focus on something behind me, so as much as I want to clarify what that means, I don’t have the chance to.
She grabs a flute of champagne off a server’s tray and then looks back at me with a raise of her brows before taking a sip.
“Now, I hate to bring this up here, but I heard someone very close to you passed away recently? Your…” She tilts her head for me to fill in.
“My great-aunt,” I supply.
“Ah, yes. Your great-aunt, my apologies. I am very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” I nod quickly. “It was sudden, but I had time to say my goodbyes and—” My voice breaks so I press my lips together and nod some more instead of finishing my sentence.
Gwen smiles at me in sympathy and places a hand on my shoulder.
“You know, my mother passed away when I was around your age,” she says.
I inhale. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that.”
She removes her hand and takes another sip of champagne. “Yes, and you know, those things are very hard. Grief is a very overpowering emotion. You can be as strong as ever and then whew! It’s just a different beast, and it shows no partiality.” She shakes her head, and her eyes go distant like she’s going back to that place. “I made some decisions during that time that can only be explained by not being in my right mind, if you know what I mean.” She squints at me like we’re in on the same joke, but I feel like I’m very obviously on the outside.
“There are boys I dated and people I hung out with that I never would have if my mother hadn’t passed.” An abrupt laugh bubbles out of her. “But who can blame me? I was in a world of hurt. I was just seeking comfort. And you can’t make good decisions when you’re in that much pain.” She looks to the left and I follow her gaze to see Declan talking to an older man in the distance. We both seem to watch him for a second, and then I rake my eyes back to Gwen’s perfect profile. She takes a slow inhale like she’s lost in old, forgotten memories. “My only regret is hurting people along the way. I thought they were what I needed at the time, but once the fog cleared, I was able to see what a terrible fit we were. And besides, it wasn’t fair of me to rely on them when I wasn’t emotionally stable enough to give them anything in return.” She tilts her head as she looks at me, narrowing her eyes like she’s assessing if I’ve caught the real meaning of her words.
And I have.
The words she didn’t say are louder than the ambient chatter of the ballroom, which seems to whoosh around me like my head’s being dunked underwater.
I would have rather she scream in my face.
I become aware of my heart beating in my chest. My mouth goes dry.
“Hi, Mom,” Declan says, appearing beside Gwen. “I see you’ve done some catching up with Blair.” He hasn’t looked at me yet and he’s smiling with so much joy that I feel my stomach turn.
Am I in too much pain to make decisions clearly? Am I going to end up hurting Declan again?
When Declan’s eyes catch mine, his face falls. All the happiness slides away at the sight of my panicked, far-off stare, and it feels like a microcosm of what’s to come.
“Blair,” he starts. “Are you okay? You look pale.”
I stare back at him, unable to move as the fear of what his mother implied races through my brain. I can feel her stare burning the side of my face as she awaits my response. I can feel her waiting for me to make her words come true. The thought of interacting with him while she watches makes me feel nauseous.
What if I really was doing this because I just wanted an escape from grief? Lottie only died two months ago. How could I be capable of making such a big commitment right now?
“Um, yeah,” I hear myself mumble. “I’m fine. Everything is good. Just a little crowded in here. I think I— I think I just need to make a phone call really quick.”
Declan’s brows furrow as I back away. He glances at Gwen and when I notice the satisfied look on her face, I spin on my heel and speed walk across the ballroom. I don’t breathe or think until I’ve made it to the double doors.
Immediately I push through them.
The cool night breeze hits my senses, and breathing feels easier for a moment.
I fish my phone from my purse and dial my mom. It doesn’t feel like a conscious choice, rather muscle memory taking over. But I feel panicked and now that it’s started, I don’t know how to tamp it down. I just need to get away from Gwen’s assessing glare and Declan’s hope-filled expression. I need space to think.
“Blair?” She answers on the first ring.
“Hey, Mom. Can you come pick me up?”
“Uh.” I hear her standing up and rustling around. “Yes, sweetie. Hold on.”
I text her the address and she confirms that she can. We hang up and I cross my arms. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to focus on the ocean’s frigid breeze hitting my cheek.
“Blair?” Declan says, footsteps sounding from behind me. “Hey, are you alright? What just happened in there?”
Tears start streaming down my face at the sound of his voice. I hate how quickly his mom’s words got in my head. But they’re in there now, and I need space to untangle the yarn-sized knot forming in my thoughts.
“I’m so sorry, Declan,” I whisper, hardly meeting his eyes as he steps around me.
“Blair, look at me.” He places the nail of his thumb under my chin and lifts. “What’s going on? You can tell me anything. No more running away, remember?”
I’m doing it again, my mind taunts. You ran out the first time, and you’ll keep doing it because you don’t know how to let him love you. So, don’t let him love you. Another tear streams down my face and over his hand.
“I can’t do this right now.” I ping-pong my finger between us. “I’m such an emotional wreck, I don’t even recognize what’s happening to me most days. I can’t drag you through that, too.” The words scrape out of my throat like a jagged thing trying to break free.
“What?” Declan shakes his head like a physical attempt to reject the words. “You don’t believe that, do you?”
“Of course I do. I’m proving that with how I’m acting right now,” I cry. “I feel fine one second, and then the next it feels like my world is tilting, and I can’t breathe anymore. I can’t prepare for it. I can hardly name it while it’s happening. It’s like this foreign object has taken residence in my body, and I don’t know what it is, and I want it out, and I just can’t—” I take a gasping breath.
“Breathe, Blair.” He steps toward me and takes my writhing face in his hands. “I need you to breathe.”
“I—” I hiccup painfully. “Can’t.”
I try to force air in, but it feels like I’m sucking through a tiny straw. The right side of my face starts tingling. I try to suck in air again, and it comes in two staccato bursts. The first, shallow and abrupt, and then another quick, jagged gasp.
“Come here,” he whispers and uses his palm to cradle my head as he pulls me into his chest.
His body is warm, and I concentrate on the pressure of his palm on the back of my head. It feels like he’s protecting me from the entire world with that one hand. I quiet enough to hear his heart beating. And finally, I exhale. My next breath in is steady, uninterrupted by involuntary gasps. He caresses my back with his other hand, slow and firm.
“You’re okay, Blair,” he says softly into my hair. “You’re okay.”
“But I’m not,” I whimper. “That’s the problem, Declan. I’m not.”
He goes silent and my face crumples into his chest one last time before I do what I need to do.
I push away from him and look up into his eyes, hardening mine. “Thank you for tonight. It was perfect. You are perfect. But I can’t do this right now. I need space from us because I can’t—” He looks like he’s about to interject, and my voice rises on instinct. “I just can’t choose this right now. I don’t know if I’m thinking clearly, and I don’t want to hurt you again.”
“Blair, what—what are you doing? What is this? Did my mom say something to you?”
I press my lips together and shake my head.
He takes a step toward me.
“Don’t do this,” he pleads, reaching for my hands.
I take a step back and wrap my arms around my chest. “I just— I need a few days to think. I feel like—” It feels like my head is about to combust, so I blurt exactly what I’m thinking. “How am I supposed to know I’m thinking clearly if I’m not thinking clearly?” My voice breaks, desperate with longing to finally, for once, do the right thing. To not hurt him again.
His eyes soften like he sees the war going on in my mind. And it’s not one waged against him. Or even us. It’s against myself.
Declan looks like he’s about to say something, but my mom’s car pulls up to the curb and I run to it like it’s a red buoy in an endless sea.
“I’m so, so sorry, Declan. I just need some space to think. That’s all. I’m so sorry.” I repeat it pathetically as I open the passenger door and step in. I’m still repeating it in my head when I arrive home.
