Maid for Each Other(40)

He made a noise in the back of his throat, and I thought he wasn’t going to comment. But after a moment or two, he said, “You know, when you stood in that stupid shirt and threatened to call the cops on me for stalking, I never would’ve believed you’d be so dedicated to our ruse.”

“That’s because you didn’t know me,” I said, remembering the way he’d looked down at me in the stinky alley like I was an annoying gnat.

“I suppose that’s true,” he said, and his voice was a little weird when he added, “And now I do.”

“And now you do,” I repeated, feeling unsettled by the acknowledgment.

“So what do we have going on the rest of the day?” I blurted, trying to reset the tone of the morning. “I think you said something about a brunch, but I couldn’t find anything online about a shareholder breakfast.”

“Well that’s because this is not for everyone,” he said, shifting to boost me higher on his back. “Also, you need to stop talking. Concentrate on those deep breaths and we can talk after you sound better.”

I wanted to argue, but then I started coughing, which kind of proved his point.

I wasn’t sure if it was to shut me up, but he started explaining the event.

“There is a brunch for a select group of investors at Monk Aviation, a private send-off to the shareholders who are leaving in their private planes. Everyone socializes in the hangar, Warren says a few words, and then everyone boards their planes and the weekend is over.”

Private planes.

Even after witnessing the lives of the wealthy all weekend and seeing the next-level ways in which they moved about in the world, I still hadn’t imagined private planes.

It was yet another reminder of how different I was than all of them.

When we got closer to the pavilion, people started noticing Declan carrying me toward the finish line on his back.

Of course.

But it was all surprised laughter, as if we were absolutely the most adorable couple. The people standing at the finish line were grinning and clapping, and I wished so badly that their misconceptions were real.

Not that we were an actual couple, but that we were just being adorable and Declan hadn’t been forced to rescue me from my own terrible health management.

He carried me over to a picnic table and lowered himself so I could get down, and as I climbed off his back, I saw his parents walking over. I hadn’t really seen them at the last couple of events, but he told me they didn’t attend everything because they liked visiting friends when they were in town.

I was torn between being happy to see friendly faces converging upon us and feeling guilty because I genuinely liked them and was starting to really hate all the lies.

I also hated the reality that someday I might just pop up in conversation as “that Abi girl” that Declan dated briefly. I don’t know why I cared—it probably had to do with the fact that I didn’t really have much family in my life or very many friends of my own—but it somehow felt like a loss that I would ultimately be purged from their circle.

“What is all this?” his mom asked with a grin.

“Abi twisted her ankle,” Declan said, giving me a surreptitious look.

“Well, thank goodness she had you to help her back,” his dad said.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure Abi didn’t need me,” Declan said, smiling. Only I could sense the sarcasm in his smile and words. “I’ve never met anyone who takes care of themselves the way she does.”

I wanted to roll my eyes.

Yes, I get it, Dex.

After his parents moved away to talk to someone else, Declan dropped to a squat in front of me.

“Listen,” he said quietly, giving me serious eye contact that made something inside me go soft again. I wanted to reach out and run a hand over his jawline.

But I didn’t.

“After the 5K, usually everybody socializes here at the park for an hour or two. There are mimosas and bagels in the tent, and it’s a beautiful morning, so everybody will be sipping and talking about the weekend. I was going to subject you to that, but I think it might be a better idea for me to get you back to the apartment so you can get in a breathing treatment.”

“No, I seriously am fine now,” I said, meaning it. “I promise I’m not just saying that. As long as you don’t force me to run, or bury my face in a dog’s fur, I am fine to stay and socialize at your side.”

“You sure?” he asked, his eyes moving all over my face like he was looking for the truth.

“I am,” I said, and then I couldn’t stop my hand from doing it, from touching his cheek. “Thank you.”

His eyes were all I could see as we shared a look. I couldn’t explain what exactly was happening between us as our eyes stayed locked together, but it felt nice and warm and like it meant something.

“Shall we go socialize, then, girlfriend of mine?” he asked, his mouth moving into a sweet smile that made my chest feel pinched.

“We shall,” I said, standing up.

His big hand wrapped around mine and my eyes felt scratchy as he pulled me to my feet. I was so soft for him at the moment, weak for the person who’d cared for me, that it was a little dangerous.

This is a job, dipshit—get it together.

I cleared my throat and lifted my chin.