19. Grant

I listen at first, shamelessly spying.

"How is he?"

"He's sleepy, sweetie," Cyndi says, using the same endearment for her son that she uses with me.

"That's not good," Declan says, and I picture his frown.

"It's fine, actually. It's past two in the morning. He's supposed to be tired."

"I'm going to go see him," he says. "And Mom?"

"Yes?"

"I'm so glad you were here," he says, relief flooding his tone.

"Me too."

The sound of his shoes on the hardwood floor grows closer and closer.

"Hey," I call out softly.

"Hey, you."

I hear the smile in his voice before he turns into our bedroom, then shuts the door behind him. When he does, I scoot up in bed.

Declan's eyes widen. "Are you allowed to do that?"

"Yup," I say, then cast my gaze downward to his shoes. "But dude, you wore your shoes in the house."

"Oh, soooo sorry," he says, as he toes them off, then sits gingerly on the edge of the bed, his expression soft and worried. "How are you?"

"I'm not wounded. I'm not broken." I reach for him with my arms, but my head pounds as I go. With a wince, I lie back down.

"How do you really feel, babe?" Declan asks, taking my hand.

I thread my fingers through his, and a kind of rightness settles over me. A sense of security, even. "Good, now that you're here," I say, then I tug him closer.

"We're not making out," he warns.

"I know. I just want to feel you near me."

I scoot over a bit, making room, and he slides next to me, wedging his body against mine. He's so warm, and I want to suck up all his body heat. "You want me to hold you?" Declan asks.

"So much," I whisper, my voice quavering.

He wraps his arms tight around me, gently presses his chest to my side, then drops a tender kiss to my cheek. "Good, because I want to hold you," he murmurs.

Declan hums, a soft sound as he snuggles me, bringing me close, his palms coasting gently up and down my arms. His face rests near my neck, his heart beating peacefully.

"You seem happy," I say.

He buries his face in my shoulder, sweeps a kiss above the neckline of my T-shirt. "You have no idea how worried I was."

"Yeah?" I ask, my voice pitching up.

"Don't sound like you like it so much."

"But I do like it."

"My worry?"

"Actually, I think I love it," I admit, feeling all buzzy and happy in his arms.

"I was freaking out, to put it mildly," Declan tells me.

"Why?"

"Why?" he asks, incredulous.

"Yeah. I don't even think I have a concussion. And I've had two—one in my second season, and one in high school."

"It looked really bad today. It looked terrible, Grant. I didn't know what happened or how you were," he says, emotion thick in his voice. "Wi-Fi was down on the flight. I was so damn worried about you. You're my person. I wanted to be there for you so badly."

This, I'm pretty sure, is what it means to swoon. I'm a grown man, and I am wildly swooning for my guy. "I wanted you here too," I tell Declan. "Your mom is awesome, and I love her, and I'm so happy she was able to help but... she's not you."

His arms wrap tighter around me, but even as he squeezes, he's remarkably gentle. "I'm here now, babe."

Declan's voice is everything I need. He's everything I want. My heart clutches, rising higher in my throat. I swallow past the lump, shifting gears, so I don't break down into an emotional mess. "Your mom knows we sleep together," I blurt.

He chuckles against my neck. "Wow. You and Mom had a heart-to-heart while I was gone, did ya?"

I laugh. "Dude, she came into our room. She saw our bed. It was weird. I was like, um, this is our bedroom."

"Did you think to add that we fuck on the couch too, or did you maybe leave that out?"

"I did not mention the sex couch. Or the kitchen or the front hallway. Or your new BMW. I left out the guest room too. I was a gentleman."

"But we've never slept together there," he says.

"True. Though, if your mom's asleep in there now, I think maybe we should make that off-limits officially."

Declan nuzzles me. "Yes, Mom's crashing there tonight. Good thing it's pure for her."

I grip his arm, wrapping him closer around me, enjoying having him near. "I feel so much better with you here."

"Me too."

I let out a long sigh. "I've never had a serious boyfriend before."

He chuckles softly. "Yes, I'm aware of that. Why are you bringing this up now?"

"Tonight just made me think about it more. This entire last week has, Deck," I say, letting him see how I feel, wanting him to know some of the things on my mind.

"In what way?"

I take a deep breath, then plunge in. "The whole thing with Troy, when that got all messy—you were the only one I wanted to talk to."

Declan sighs softly and presses a kiss to my jawline. "I was glad you talked to me about it."

"And then today. It was you. Just you," I say, my voice trembling.

He runs his fingers softly along my forearm. "You wanted me? Just me?" he asks with wonder in his voice.

"Yes, and this is all so new to me—wanting someone this much, needing someone this much," I say, admitting the parts of our relationship that freak me out the most. Once it's this serious, the other person can hurt you terribly. "But I don't want to scare you away."

"You couldn't, Grant," he says, gripping me tighter, holding me closer. "Because it's the same for me. As I was flying home, I was scared and amazed all at once—scared that you were hurt and amazed that one person can make me feel everything. I want you so much, and I need you so much. And I just love you so fucking much."

My throat squeezes. "I love you, Declan. Stay with me all night."

Only, I mean more than tonight. I mean forever. I mean always.

Even though that's not a promise I'm ready to ask for just yet.

"I will," Declan says, then adds in the softest voice, full of tenderness, "Always."

In this moment, staying together feels like the only answer to every question.

The next morning, I wake feeling mostly good, pretty sure I'm concussion-free. I'm not quite great, but I'm damn close.

Especially since Declan's here with me, sound asleep, his arm flung over his eyes, giving me a perfect view of those biceps. With him here in bed, I see a fully formed image of my future. The same one I imagined last night when I asked him to stay.

Declan Steele is the one I want with me forever.

I've thought it a lot, suspected it to be true. But I didn't feel it fully in my bones until he curled up with me late last night, becoming my home.

How can we pull this off with our jobs?

Getting back together felt so easy when it happened. Now life is happening to us, coming hard and fast. One of us will get hurt, injured, sick. Will we be able to take care of each other?

In sickness and in health, and all that.

As long as you both shall live.

Even though my grandparents looked out for me growing up, having parents who didn't want me drives me to hold on tight when someone does.

Not just anyone.

This man.

He feels like my family.

I'm figuring out, too, exactly what family means to me. The conversation with Jason earlier this week turned the key in the door. Declan's mom showing up for me last night kicked it wide open. Both showed me what I'm pretty sure I want down the road.

A family with Declan.

Soon I'm going to need to find a way to ask if he wants the same thing.