Just Friends(74)

They invite the guest speakers and auctioneers to the stage and then take their seats at our table. But a new speaker begins talking so I don’t have the opportunity to acknowledge them yet. I feel Gwen’s presence across from me like a wall of heat as I try to appear focused. We’re brought the geometric food that Declan promised, and everyone eats in tiny, polite bites while the auctioneers present the bidding opportunities. The sound of cutlery clinking against fine porcelain and small talk fills the ballroom like an orchestrated symphony. I pretend to be a seasoned guest.

When the presentations end, I turn to face Declan, eyes wide with the subtle panic of saying hello to his parents. He dips his head with a discreet nod. He places a hand on my back and says, “Mom, Dad, I believe I mentioned Blair has been back in town for the summer, and I, uh, I’ve brought her here as my date.”

Randall breaks into a warm smile. “Hi, Blair. It’s nice to see you again. And my, my, you look well!”

“Thank you. It’s good to see you too.” I smile, feeling like a child again beneath his gaze. Then my eyes flicker to Gwen, and I catch the way her mouth tenses with some unnamed emotion before schooling back into a polite grin.

“It’s nice to see you, sweetie,” she says, offering an awkward wave from across the table. Her stack of gold bracelets tinkles with the movement.

We small talk about my time at Pepperdine and I start to panic when it veers toward what I’ll be doing now, since I’ve yet to inform Declan that I’ve given up my spot at Ernst & Young.

But Declan relieves me of having to say anything else by offering me his hand and asking “May I have this dance?” with a hopeful expression.

“Do your worst, Declan Renshaw.”

His lips curl with a coy smile as he takes me by the hand. Declan was always an unexpectedly suave dancer. Although it shouldn’t have come as a surprise, considering he was one of those people who was infuriatingly good at everything they tried.

“Don’t worry. I’m not so coordinated anymore,” he says like he heard my thoughts.

My heart fractures. I’ve been failing to remember how many areas of his life have been affected by the accident. I’ve been slow to remember that I was experiencing the Declan after the accident, not the one before it. It wasn’t lost on me how easy I found it to harbor resentment toward people not remembering my current affliction, and yet, I was forgetting Declan’s regularly.

It was a pointed reminder that the experiences people didn’t witness would never resonate as deeply with them as they did with you. If you wanted them to be appreciated, it was your responsibility to share them—it wasn’t on others to understand something they had never seen. I mentally chip away at the wall I’ve been secretly constructing against Roshi and Faye.

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.”