4. Miranda

A half hourlater I'm about to collapse. I'm in my new room and there's a bed, but Trevor keeps asking a question I can barely register as I stare at the naked bed.

"Sheets?" I shake my head, feeling like it's moving through molasses. "I have a computer. And some clothes. That's all I own."

Then Declan's big body is behind me, and his reassuring voice is saying, "No worries, Miranda. I have extra sheets and blankets. We'll get your bed made, get you fed, and let you collapse. Almost done."

He gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning and going through a door.

"That's the closet. You guys share it too," Trevor says.

If Declan doesn't hurry back with sheets, I'm sharing his bed too.

"Here are sheets from my bed. We have the same size mattress." Declan puts a pile of bedding on an armchair I didn't even notice in the corner. He grabs the fitted sheet and snaps it to lay it over the mattress.

I go to the opposite side to help. "Ooh, Scottie dogs."

Trevor grabs the pillowcases and starts stuffing them with pillows. "Dude, you get paid millions of dollars, and you sleep on flannel sheets from Target with dogs on them?"

Declan shrugs. "They're comfortable and the print reminds me of a dog we had."

"Fergus!" I loved the feisty Scottish terrier the Mackenzies had. He liked to bark and growl at everyone, but he was always sweet with me. He'd follow me around and sleep at the foot of my bed. I run my finger over a Scottie with a plaid bow tie. I hadn't thought about Fergus in years. He was a wonderful dog. I'm sure he's passed.

"Ma has his grandson," Declan says. "The next time he is at stud, maybe we can get you a puppy from the litter."

I smile. It's a kind offer, but I can't have a dog. I'll be traveling too much with the team. But soon. A shiver of anticipation rushes through me. It's hard to kick the impulse to leave, to not make a home, but that's what I came here for. I've got to start thinking differently. Maybe getting a dog would help with that. Someday, when I have my forever home, I'll get a dog. But that's not possible now.

"How the hell are you getting laid with Scottie dog sheets?" Trevor asks.

"I guess if you're doing it right, no one is paying attention to the sheets," Declan retorts.

Heat rises from my throat and into my cheeks. I don't want to hear about this. Of course he brings women home. No one as gorgeous and sexy as him lives like a monk. I try not to let the thought of him with someone upset me.

"Anyway…" Declan looks at me as he tucks in the second corner on his side. "These are brand new sheets. I've washed them but haven't used them yet. And I'm not bringing anyone home."

Trevor nods and shoots him with finger guns. "Good plan. Stick to hotels or their place. Less complicated that way and they won't know where you live."

Declan shoots a look my way as he flicks the top sheet to unfurl it. "No, I'm not dating."

Trevor scoffs. "No one said anything about dating. Whatever, you do your thing and I'll do mine." He tosses the pillows he put in cases at the head of the bed and leaves the room.

Declan turns and grabs a plaid blanket. I grin when he turns back toward me with it in his hands. It's the Mackenzie tartan.

"This, I have used, but I swear only for sleeping."

"Thank you." I smooth out the cover with the rich green and blue pattern I have always loved. I wish I was sharing this blanket with him. And the sheets. And the bed. And so much more.

I give my head a shake—I need to stop these thoughts. Declan is my best friend's brother. My friend. My gorgeous, talented, and kind friend, who is also a sexy wolf shifter. He can have anyone he wants. He isn't going to want me. Hell, sometimes my own parents don't seem to want me. Why would anyone else?

"I know you're exhausted," Declan says. "Why don't you take a shower and get ready for bed, and I'll make you a cheese toastie?"

My eyes widen and fill with tears. No one has made me a cheese toastie since I was ten. I've had grilled cheese sandwiches, of course, in the cafeterias of the schools I attended. But not a real toastie made especially for me. What I'd get was something mass produced and plopped on a tray as I shoved it along the rails.

"Really? You'd do that for me?" I whisper.

Declan rounds the foot of the bed and takes my hand. Sparks shoot up my arm at his touch. If anyone asked, I'd chalk it up to exhaustion, but I know it's the stupid, unrequited crush I've harbored for years on a man I can't have.

"Miranda, don't you know I'd do anything for you? A cheese toastie is simple. Go do whatever to get ready and I'll make your sandwich. Do you want chips or soup with it?"

I shake my head. "The sandwich is all I need. If I eat too much, I'll have weird dreams." I grab my backpack holding what I need for tonight in it. I made sure I had the basics in my carry-on because I knew I wouldn't want to deal with unpacking.

When he leaves the bedroom, I walk into our shared bathroom. It's clean, but I can smell the faint scent of the soap he uses. It's a fresh, clean scent, not too heavy. It's like a meadow after a rain shower. I remember sitting in a gazebo during a rain shower and smelling that scent. It wasn't soap—it was the rain and the land. I've missed it.

I undress and climb into the huge shower. The spray washing over me is incredible. Whoever designed this bathroom was a genius. The dual vanity area is in the hallway connecting the two bedrooms and the shower and massive soaking tub are behind one door and what I presume is the toilet is behind another. Two people could use the bathroom for their personal needs in privacy. Declan can shave at the sink while I'm in the shower. It will make getting ready much easier.

I'm entering my bedroom in my moose-print flannel pj pants and baggie Wickham U t-shirt when Declan pokes his head in.

"Toastie is almost done. Do you want to eat at the counter, or should I bring it in here? I've made tea as well."

"I'll come out there."

He turns to walk down the hall to the kitchen and I follow, trying to not stare at the firm, denim-clad ass the hockey gods blessed him with. On the counter are two plates with a toastie on each and two steaming mugs of tea. Trevor is in a recliner with a bag of chips, flipping through channels on the massive TV. I sit on one stool and Declan takes the one beside me.

"Thank you," I say, giving him a smile.

Declan returns my smile with a soft one of his own. "You're welcome. Eat, while it's still hot." Declan picks up his sandwich and I follow suit. The mixture of shredded cheeses oozing out of the sliced middle reminds me of the happy times from my childhood. He made a real cheese toastie with fresh shredded cheese, not some fake cheese from a plastic wrapper.

I take my first bite and close my eyes as I groan in delight. This sandwich is an experience. It's flavorful, it's comforting, and someone who wanted to take care of me made it for me it. I will remember this sandwich and this moment forever.

"Oh my gosh, this is delicious. Declan, I could kiss you." The words slip from my mouth without thinking.

"I'd be okay with that," is his quiet reply.

Oh, if he truly meant it.