28. The Long Run

28

The Long Run

Teal

The land surrounding Rochester Lake is all privately owned, and most of the west side has been in my family for generations. I spent every summer out here growing up, and while it should have been a peaceful escape from the teasing at school and whispers around town, I found no peace in these trips.

I’ve always been convinced Rochester Lake is haunted. Cabins line the shore, but there are no docks, and no one swims in the water.

My father told me it’s because of toxic plants that grow at the bottom, but I never believed him. Something taints the lake, and it isn’t Mother Nature.

Declan drives us straight to our cabin when we arrive. A number of the guests are staying in cabins up by my parents’, but we’ve been assigned one that’s deeper in the woods. I’d appreciate the privacy more if I didn’t know it was another attempt at my father hiding us from everyone.

“I hate this place.” I frown when I walk through the front door to the cabin and am met with a deer head hanging above the fireplace in the living room.

“Those things always creep me out,” Violet agrees, walking past me hand in hand with Kole.

Declan stops behind me, wrapping his arms around my stomach and resting his chin on the top of my head. “Do you know what I’d rather hang up there?”

“I’m scared to answer that question.”

He chuckles. “One of your paintings. But I appreciate whatever dirty thought just went through your head.”

“I’m sure you do.” I look up over my shoulder at him. “Do you really like my paintings? They’re chaotic.”

“They’re you.” He tucks my hair behind my ear.

“If you mean they’re nightmare fuel, then yes, they are me.”

“Always so hard on yourself, Tealene.”

“Sorry…” I quirk an eyebrow. “Is that only your job?”

“Mm-hmm.” He pulls my back tighter to his chest, sealing us together. “Like I said, if you want to be ruined, I volunteer to be the one who does it.”

My cheeks heat as his cock hardens against me. “Very funny.”

“I’m not joking.” He kisses the top of my head. “But seriously, you’re too hard on yourself. Your art’s beautiful enough to get you into Paris, so why doubt it? And so long as it gets the nightmares out, isn’t that all that matters? ”

I wish it were that simple. But no matter how deep I dig, I never get close to whatever it is I’m really after.

“I need to go meet up with my dad for a little bit.” Declan spins me in his arms until I’m facing him, still not taking his hands off me. “Will you be okay here by yourself? I was going to say you could hang out with Kole and Violet, but they already disappeared.”

“I get the feeling we won’t see much of them this trip.”

Declan leans in to plant a kiss on the side of my neck. “I’m not complaining.”

My fingers clutch his T-shirt, and his arm that’s wrapped around my lower back pulls me tighter against his hard body.

“Declan…” I tip my head back as he kisses a path over my collarbone and up the center of my throat. “I thought you just said you needed to go take care of something.”

“I got distracted.”

I laugh, pushing him off me. “No distractions right now. I need to shower after that long drive. None of this until I’m clean.”

“And if I like you dirty?” He rubs his thumb over my mouth, smearing my lip gloss.

I grab his wrist. “Then there’s plenty of time for that later.”

“Fine,” he says with a frown, not fighting me when I take a step back.

But when I adjust my tank top, it pulls down slightly in the front, and the hint of cleavage has his eyes narrowing like a predator out for a kill .

It takes everything in me not to cave because his attention is intoxicating. I’ve never thought much of myself physically, but when Declan looks at me, I feel like the center of the universe.

“Thirty minutes.” Declan steps backward. “Then you’re all mine.”

He looks like he’s in pain when he glances over his shoulder a final time before walking out the door.

With Declan gone, and Kole and Violet missing in action, I head upstairs to where the second primary bedroom is. The fact that they are on separate floors adds to the privacy, and I appreciate it.

I dig through my bag for a practical and comfortable outfit. It’s hot outside, so I’m glad I listened to Violet and packed more shorts than I usually would. It’s difficult to hide the scars on the inside of my thighs when shorts and skirts ride up, so I usually avoid them, but I found a few pairs that are long enough to hide them.

Gathering my fresh outfit and lotion, I step into the bathroom. The shower steam fogs up the mirror almost instantaneously, and the fan barely helps, which explains the mildew smell that hangs in the cabin air.

I strip off my clothes, staring at myself in the foggy mirror as I slowly fade away, wondering what Declan sees in me.

Stress has left me a little too thin lately, and I don’t have the hourglass curves of half the girls I’ve seen him talk to at school. My breasts are small and unimpressive, and my skin is marked from my mental battles. My blonde hair is a wild mess of colors, and I rarely style it .

Nothing about me turns people’s heads. And if beauty is truly on the inside, I don’t think that works in my favor either.

The mirror fogs until I’m only an outline of a person. I reach in my pile of clothes for my phone and turn sideways to catch what few curves I can. Snapping a picture, I type out a message and hit send before I have a chance to talk myself out of it.

Teal : Self-portrait.

He responds almost immediately, like he always does.

Declan : Work of art.

I’d like to think it’s a compliment, but it could also just be a fact. Art is subjective. Often better understood at a distance.

I look at the foggy photo and wonder how Declan interprets it.

Setting my phone down, I climb into the shower and let the hot water wash my thoughts away. It soaks through my chilled bones and quiets the noise in my head. My shower is twice as long as usual, but since no one is waiting, I don’t rush myself, taking my time until Declan returns.

Once I’m out, I slather my skin with lotion, hoping the fragrance won’t attract bugs.

I throw my half-dried hair up in a messy bun, leaving it wet. It’s darker when it’s damp, and the colors blend together. It’s been so long since my hair has been just blonde. I don’t remember what I look like when I’m not trying to hide behind the painted-up version of myself .

Slipping into shorts and a baggy T-shirt, I leave the bathroom to find the bedroom empty. Declan sent me a text while I was in the shower, and it’s a picture of the lake. I recognize that stretch of beach as being a spot near my parents’ cabin.

He must have met with his father there, and I can only hope our parents haven’t tried to shoot each other yet.

I walk through the cabin, noticing Kole and Violet are nowhere to be found, which is likely how they’ll spend most of the weekend. Violet will do her best to avoid Ian Pierce, and Kole is probably more than happy to keep her distracted.

Declan said he’d be back in thirty minutes, and that was only twenty minutes ago, so I decide to go find him instead of waiting.

Slipping on my sneakers, I leave the cabin, down the path that leads to my parents’ cabin. The sun is just now starting to set, casting a warm glow across the lake. Crickets and frogs make a symphony at dusk, and I take it all in.

The space.

The fresh air.

Sometimes, I wonder if I should just escape to a place like this—to a lake less haunted. Maybe then I’d finally find happiness.

I follow the path until the sound of laughter and talking overwhelms the sounds of the forest. On a final turn, I can see my parents’ cabin at the top of the hill, and the firepit is surrounded by people. I recognize a few as Declan’s fraternity brothers, and others as their parents .

I’m immediately on edge when I spot my father off to the side of the gathering, talking to Jase’s dad. He watches me approach, and it sends a shiver up my spine.

Declan is sitting in a chair at the bonfire, talking to his father, and both of their expressions are tense. Whatever they’re discussing has Declan digging his hand into his hair like he does when he’s irritated. And when his father claps him on the back, his spine stiffens.

They say a few final words, and his father stalks off to find Paul and Vince, while Declan watches him go. Maddox drops into the chair Declan’s father abandoned and says something, pointing to a couple of girls who are sitting at a picnic table with my mother.

I never thought of myself as a jealous person because I’ve never had anything worth getting jealous over. But as I stare at Declan on my approach—the glow from the crackling fire casting shadows over his strong jaw and features, his dark hair a tousled mess on his head, his long-sleeve shirt hugging his solid chest—I admit to myself I’m jealous of anyone who wants any piece of him.

The other night at the Sigma Sin party, he said he wouldn’t share me, and my guard was down just enough that I admitted I didn’t want to share him either. But is that too much to ask? Is it too much to want?

He’s Declan Pierce.

He’s constantly pulled in a hundred different directions, either by his fraternity or his family and friends. I’m just one more obligation in his day. Especially considering we don’t make sense in the long run.

The long run .

I’ve never let myself focus on the future when it always seems so uncertain. But when I look at Declan, that’s what I see.

The long run.

It’s too bad it’s not possible.

Whether he likes it or not, he’ll follow in his father’s footsteps. He’ll go into politics or do something equally high profile. He’s charming and charismatic, and it draws people to him. Declan’s fire will grow well beyond his years at Briar, and he needs someone who can stand at his side through that. Someone appropriate and respectful.

I glance at the girls sitting by my mother, sipping wine coolers out of crystal in the middle of a forest.

I’ll never be like that.

I’m a plastic cup in comparison.

When I reach the fire pit, Declan finally spots me, saying something to Maddox that makes him get up and walk off. He watches me circle, and when I pause at a chair near him, he shakes his head.

“Come here.” He pats his thigh.

“Seriously?”

His eyebrow ticks up, his expression answering for him.

Walking over to him, he snags my hand the moment I reach him, and he pulls me down onto his lap.

“Happy?” I narrow my eyes.

“Take off your shorts, and I’d be happier.” He cups my jaw, grazing his thumb over my lower lip, not kissing me.

“I don’t think anyone here would appreciate that.”

“I would. ”

“Besides you.” I roll my eyes.

Declan smirks. “Feeling better?”

“Who said I was feeling bad?”

“You didn’t.” He draws a path down the center of my throat, over my chest, and between my breasts. “But those girls in the parking lot at school said something that bothered you.”

“Did you hear them?”

He shakes his head. “No, but I can tell it got to you.”

I breathe out a sigh of relief that he couldn’t hear what they said because I already doubt us enough without someone getting inside Declan’s head about it.

“It’s not important.” I wrap my arms around his shoulders. “Did you take care of what you needed to with your father? Plotting the world’s destruction or whatever you two were up to?”

“Yeah.” Declan’s eyes dart off, and his jaw tenses.

“Want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not important.”

I doubt that, but I don’t push it either. I’m well aware we both still have walls up and that no matter what this is, they’re bound to come between us eventually.

Glancing across the yard, I see my father walking back toward the rest of the party with Jase’s dad at his side.

“They’re already colluding.” I frown. “Just because my father’s going along with this doesn’t mean he’s giving up.”

“I know.” Declan tightens his grip around my waist.

“I guess we’ll enjoy it while we can then.”

“You say that like I’ll let you go, Teal.”

“You won’t have a choice. ”

Declan smirks, relaxing for the first time since I spotted him talking to his father. “Whatever you say.”

Part of me wishes he’d argue with me. That he would fight for us like I want to.

He won’t.

While some people marry for love, that’s not in the cards for a Donovan or a Pierce. We have business transactions, not relationships.

But right here, in this moment, I try to forget that.

I sink into my admission to Declan and let myself believe this is real for now. When I do lose him, it’s going to hurt worse than anything he did to me during the years I hated him, but at least I’ll have this slice of time to reflect on.

“No music.” He grazes his finger over my ear. “Did you bring your earbuds?”

“No.”

Usually, my earbuds are another appendage, constantly attached to me. But lately, I’ve worn them less and less. Unless I’m painting, I haven’t needed music as a crutch like I usually do.

Declan quiets the noise.

And when he wraps his arms around me, he’s the warmth nothing else in my life has been able to offer.