Page 93 of Feel Me

And here I am in running attire and my hair dangling around my face.

Still, it takes all I have not to bolt up the stairs and throw myself in his arms.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” I answer, just barely getting the word out.

I’ve entertained a thousand times what I would do if I saw him again. I knew we’d eventually meet, at some political affair, a fundraiser,something. But here, like this? No. Someone like him, so proud and capable of having anyone he wanted wouldn’t come back, not after everything I said to him.

My legs feel like lead as I climb. I force myself forward, despite how his presence seems to cement me in place. I stop suddenly when I realize that on each step is a paperback novel with a shirtless man gracing the cover.

I lift my chin to meet Declan’s face. “I thought about bringing you roses,” he says. “But I figured you’d prefer Scots in loincloths to posies and petals.”

The corners of my mouth curve upward. I liftMy Highlander, My Hotnesstitling it so Declan can see the cover. “Dem Scots don’t wear anything beneath their kilts.”

He makes a face. “Thanks for the visual.”

Despite everything I’m going through and everything between us, I can’t stop my grin. I lift the next book and examine the cover. “Classic Fabio,” I tell him.

“Yeah . . . That one was on clearance shoved between a few packs of edible underwear. The lady at the store said it’s a collector’s item.” He pauses. “That’s bullshit, right?”

I try not to laugh, but it’s hard. “Are you calling the woman who sells these babiesandcherry-flavored panties a liar?”

“How did you know they were cherry-flavored?” he asks, smirking.

It’s only because I know him the way that I do, that I’m able to say what I say next. “You made Wren buy these, didn’t you?”

“Oh. Hell yeah,” he answers. “I wouldn’t be caught dead buying this shit.” He points to the one on top of my pile. “By the way, she wants to borrowLord of My Loinswhen you’re done. She said it reminds her of Evan.” He holds up a hand and grimaces. “I don’t want to know.”

This time, I do laugh. But as I tuck each paperback against me, and close the distance between us, my humor fades and every emotion I’ve experienced in his absence hits me all at once. God, I’ve missed him.

He stands with his coat folded over his arm as I reach the step beneath where he’s seated. “Here, let me help you,” he offers.

I pass him the stack of books. “Thank you,” I tell him quietly.

I reach for the key in my pocket, wrestling with what to do as I unlock the door. He’s hurt me so badly and I’m scared to trust him. But he’s trying, and if I’m being honest, I don’t want him to leave.

I also don’t want to walk away from him like I did in the hospital, afraid to look back and even more scared when he didn’t follow.

“Would you like to come in?” I ask.

“Yes.”

I lower my lids at the familiar rasp to his voice. What I’d give to have him hold me, and mean it, and . . . damn it. I push the door open, allowing him through before following and locking the door behind us.

He steps in, past the foyer and into the kitchen. I kick off my shoes and remove my socks, placing both in the washing machine as Declan sets my books down along my granite counter.

He walks around the island and stands in front of my couch, the same couch we made love on so many times. “Would you like some water?” I ask, averting my focus.

“No, thank you,” he says. “I’m good.”

“All right.” I pull a water bottle out of the fridge, twisting off the cap as I return to the living room. “Please have a seat. I’ll be right back, I just want to freshen up.”

I head into my bedroom, stripping down to my black sports bra and capri running pants as I step into my bathroom. The hair tie is barely holding my messy strands in place. I leave it in just long enough to wash my face and hands then pull it out to give my hair a quick brush.

In all the ways Declan could have found me, he had to see me at my absolute worst. I’m not even wearing make-up, and here he is looking as perfect as always.

Regardless, I don’t swipe my lashes with mascara or add a little gloss to my lips. He’s already seen me and I don’t want to keep him waiting.

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