Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Jonas

"I find myself alone and dateless." With a loud, fake royal accent, Rowan draped himself over the kitchen island, inconveniently landing in the path of my sponge. "On New Year's Eve. The second most romantic holiday. It's practically criminal, I tell you."

"Drop the British accent, Rowan." Wren looked up from the fridge inventory they were conducting on their tablet. "New Year's Eve is an arbitrary holiday, as evidenced by the many cultures?—"

"Oh my God, Wren. Let me be dramatic for once." Rowan flailed like he hadn't been dramatic every moment since birth.

And if anyone was entitled to wail, it would be me. Two days of Declan living here, and I was ready to climb the curtains. I smelled him in the hallways. I heard him through the air vents. I caught myself checking on him far more than was prudent, and our little conversations turned into epic discussions. Other than work, I'd done little else other than think about Declan. Now it was New Year's Eve, and as Rowan pointed out, a night for romance for the lucky and sulking for the rest of us.

"I'm dateless." John, another of the teens and a mild-mannered football star, clomped down the back stairs to swipe a cookie from a platter on the counter near the fridge. "You don't see me obsessing over who I'm kissing at midnight."

"That's because…" Rowan sputtered as I glowered in his direction. I'd spent the fall trying to protect John's right to privacy where Rowan would rather lob sharp barbs, oblivious to anyone else's feelings. Mouth twisting, Rowan tried a different tactic. "That's hardly the win you think it is."

"Sure it is. I'm outta here and headed to Cosmo's for a marathon of the best sports movies ever. I dropped Dad off at the station for his shift, so I've got wheels to pick up the rest of the crew. Who needs a date?"

"Me," Rowan moaned.

"Drive safe," I told John, ignoring Rowan's theatrics. "This is a night for bad accidents, and your dad's on call."

"You're saying don't make him be the one to come scrape me up? Yeah, yeah." John pocketed another couple of cookies on his way to grabbing Eric's SUV keys and heading out.

"As I was saying, alas, I am feuding with my drama club vice president." Rowan didn't waste much time returning the conversation to his favorite subject. "I am alone while the rest of the drama club parties with Taylor, the backstabber. May her eyelashes fall off into the charcuterie tray."

"A pox on her house." I matched Rowan's outraged tone. "And are you waiting for Wren and me to ask you to plan a New Year's Eve bash for us?"

"God, yes." Rowan finally straightened from his sprawl, perking up at the mere hint of a fresh project. Oh well. Whatever kept him happy, and it wasn't like I had anything better to do other than pace outside Declan's door and see if he'd awakened from a late nap.

Rowan managed to rope Wren into his plans, and the two of them happily laid out an elaborate hot chocolate bar with enough toppings for a dozen revelers. I took Oz for a brief walk and returned to find the living room transformed into a giant blanket fort, complete with pillows, mountains of fuzzy throws and blankets, and twinkling lights left over from the Christmas festivities. The hot chocolate bar was set up on the nearby oak coffee table. Luckily, Oz knew better than to go investigate and picked out a large cushion in the blanket tent to flop on.

As Wren and Rowan worked, they debated which movies to cue up, and I swallowed the impulse to remind them that all the linens and lights would eventually need picking up.

"What the…?" Declan wandered into the living room on his knee scooter, expression going from sleepy to perplexed as he swept his gaze around the living room.

"It's New Year's Eve. We're having a party," Rowan announced merrily.

"People coming over?" Declan groaned.

"No, just us." Rowan attempted to steer Declan toward the blanket fort. "Don't worry about balancing a plate with your scooter. I'll bring the hot chocolate buffet to you."

If Rowan got any more obvious with his hero worship of Declan, a halo was likely to appear around Declan's auburn hair, which had grown back unevenly along his surgical scar.

"If I get down there, I'm probably not getting back up." Declan wrinkled his forehead but obligingly moved closer to the blanket fort in front of the TV. "I am hungry though."

"Perfect. And Jonas and I can help you up." Rowan effortlessly volunteered me, not that I was about to protest another excuse to touch Declan.

"Let them have their fun." I stepped next to Declan. "It is New Year's Eve, after all."

"Wow. Last year, I was in Vegas, a huge group of us, girl on each arm, smashed beyond…" Declan's mouth twisted. "Sorry. Not PG content. But yeah, what a difference a year makes."

"Sorry we can't provide more excitement." My tone came out a little clipped because Declan's sadness underscored how much he missed his motocross lifestyle and how Mount Hope was merely a pit stop on his road to recovery.

"It's okay. Guess I was due a sober New Year's. Help me sit?" His crooked grin banished my irritation. I helped him settle next to Oz with cushions under his healing leg and behind his back. When I turned to back out of the blanket tent, however, Declan yanked me down next to him.

"Oh no, you don't," he whispered, voice unusually playful. "If I have to sit in the blanket fort, so do you."

"All right." I agreed, hopefully not too quickly. Declan likely wanted me next to him only as a buffer from the teens, but my cheeks heated and my chest lifted anyway.

Rowan gleefully served up hot chocolate and treats before starting the movie.

"What is this?" Declan's forehead wrinkled like he'd never seen a holiday movie opening. The festive music, snow, quaint neighborhood, and holiday decorations made the genre immediately clear, at least to me.

"Only the queerest holiday movie ever!" Rowan was only too happy to push Pause to explain the plot of the geeky Christmas caper we'd already seen three times that month. "It's rival neighbors, see, but the sunshine one has to help the grumpy one pull off a Christmas miracle to welcome his younger brother home. You'll love it."

"Sure." Declan sounded pained and his mouth was a thin line.

"You okay?" I asked in a low voice. "We can switch movies."

"It's fine." He offered the fakest smile ever before motioning at Rowan. "Continue, please."

I half expected Declan to have sarcastic commentary for the movie, but surprisingly, he seemed wrapped up in the plot, leaning forward as the movie meandered along. He even laughed at the holiday hijinks and small-town humor. But as the movie wrapped, his expression turned to one of clear longing.

I'd know because being this close to him with our legs and shoulders brushing and his beachy scent hanging in the air had me doing my own pining. And like the yearning in my chest, Declan's longing seemed to hurt. He huffed out little pained breaths and shifted uncomfortably, especially when the two male leads kissed as the closing credits rolled.

"My head hurts. I should go lie down." Declan pushed himself away from our cushion nest, but Rowan made a clucking noise.

"Not yet. It's almost midnight! Time to break out the sparkling cider and make our resolutions and?—"

"The only resolution I have is to get back on the track." Declan shook his head. "I'm gonna pass, kid. Sorry."

Rowan's face fell, but he collected himself enough to help me extricate Declan from the blanket fort. As soon as he was upright, Declan grabbed his scooter and made his way back to his room.

"Well, that sucks." Rowan pouted as he returned from the kitchen with glasses and the bottle of local sparkling cider. "I wanted him to stay for midnight at least."

Oh, Rowan. I made a sympathetic noise and gentled my voice. "Isn't Declan a bit older than most of your crushes?"

"Age is but a number," Rowan said airily as he poured the cider. "However, I'm not crushing. Or at least, not much." He offered a sad, crooked smile. "Sean got me hooked on watching motocross over the summer. All the dudes are so hot. Cocky swagger. Muscles. Dangerous occupation. What's not to like?"

"Indeed. But?—"

"I know it's not happening with Declan." He sprawled back on a pile of cushions. "But maybe if I make friends with him, he can introduce me to some of his hottie friends."

"Are there any out motocross riders?" Declan's expression while watching the movie flashed in my brain. Maybe…

"Dunno." Rowan shrugged. "Probably not. It's a macho sport like football, but a guy can dream."

"Surely there's high school-aged fish for you to catch?" I hated the idea of Rowan being disappointed.

"None worth frying." Rowan huffed as Oz came to settle next to him. "Gotta get out of this town."

"College will be better." I offered up the old platitude, hoping I was right.

"Maybe." Eyes taking on a faraway cast, he gave a sad smile as he petted Oz before standing. "Time to toast! Make a wish!"

As the clock counted down to midnight, I couldn't think of any resolutions or wishes that didn't involve Declan. My own crush was likely as hopeless as Rowan's, but tell that to my fickle heart. After all my failed relationships, I really should know better. And I'd hoped for a partner for too many years to make that midnight wish one more time. Nope. My only New Year's resolution needed to be keeping my distance from Declan.

Said resolution lasted precisely through shooing the kids off to bed, cleaning the kitchen, putting away the fancy glasses, and walking past Declan's door. He'd seemed pained. Maybe I should check…

And before I could stop myself, I knocked on the closed door.

"Come in," he called. I opened the door to find him in bed, and as he sat up, the covers pooled around his waist. His very bare waist, no hint of boxers or pajama bottoms. And no shirt either. Bare chest, a surprising amount of auburn fuzz, fading bruises on his torso, lickable pink nipples, and…

Stop it. I forced myself to look away. Oz had no such modesty and went to settle next to Declan. Traitorous dog.

"Sorry. I should have known you'd be sleeping."

"No, I wasn't asleep. My mind doesn't want to shut down even though I ran out of energy to dress after I showered. Fucking showers. Who knew they were such energy thieves?"

"Fucking bandits," I agreed. "Want me to toss you your pajamas?"

"Nah." He looked entirely too comfortable with his nudity.

"I should let you rest or…whatever." A strangled cough escaped my throat as I envisioned whatever. " I only wanted to see if you were okay. I thought you might have been in pain after the movie. You mentioned your head?"

"When am I not in pain?" Groaning, he gave a dismissive wave. "Head. Back. Leg. My other leg from too much work moving the scooter. All of it."

"You could take something."

"The pain meds were torturing my stomach and making my nausea way worse, so I weaned myself off them at the rehab place. Besides, it's not that bad tonight. I mainly just needed away from the New Year's Eve festivities and the movie."

"That grossed out?" I hadn't yet figured Declan out. He seemed to want to prove a point that he was cool with queer content, despite his obvious discomfort. And then there was that longing in his eyes, which left me with more questions.

"No. You don't get it. I'm angry ."

"Okay." I drew the word out as I headed for the door. "It's late, and I'm too tired to unpack your homophobia?—"

Declan cut me off with a frustrated noise. "Not at them . The characters were amazing. Who wouldn't love that duo? No, I'm mad at the producers for making it seem like coming out is as easy as kissing in front of the whole neighborhood. As if."

"Sometimes it is that easy," I said gently, studying the array of emotions on Declan's expressive face.

"Not in my world." He shook his head, tone turning mournful as he buried a hand in Oz's soft fur. "My first pro race, one of the older riders made sure to let me know there was no place for gay riders, only he used a far worse word. And that was okay because I'd already learned that lesson as an amateur. And how."

"Wanna tell me about it?" I stepped closer to the bed.

"Not particularly," he snapped. "This is the life I chose. End of story."

"Well, alrighty then." I didn't like this version of Declan, hurt and miserable and shutting me out. "Guess I should head to bed. Come on, Oz."

"You're not gonna read?" Declan sounded genuinely surprised and disappointed. And that was all the more reason for me to decline, along with my neglected resolution. We were fast falling into habits that weren't healthy for my heart, especially if Declan didn't want to talk. Our friendship needed to be a two-way street, and even then, I couldn't ignore the real risk of my more-than-friendly feelings.

"Not tonight."

"Why didn't you have a date? You should have had a New Year's Eve date." His tone was defiant. "Gotta be boring, hanging out with the kids and the cr?—"

"Watch how you talk," I warned before he could finish the slur.

"I was going to say crappy excuse for a human being." Declan rolled his eyes at me like that line was much better than what I'd assumed. "I am pretty worthless these days."

"You are not, and with everyone else pulling a shift tonight, someone needed to be home with the teens." I shrugged, trying to keep my tone casual despite his prodding. "Besides, I'm kind of on a break from dating."

"That's bullshit. You didn't want someone to kiss at midnight?"

You. You. You. But I couldn't say that, couldn't let myself think it for more than a second.

"Good night, Declan." Breathing hard, I summoned Oz with my hand and left the room before Delcan or I could say—or do— something we might regret.