Page 31 of Taking A Chance

I trail my fingers down my neck and caress my collarbone before following the line of my sternum between my breasts and finally around my belly button. I suppose I could go for a little release to get rid of all this tension. Closing my eyes, my fingers trail down further and dip into the waistline of my panties.

“Oh my god, yes!” Harper’s voice travels through the walls of my apartment and I rip my eyes open and my hand from my underwear. I wait a few moments and then more moans and muffled words ring in my ears.Oh. My. God.They’re having sex. Those bastards are having sex. In my apartment.

So much for releasing tension.I can’t touch myself to my brother and sister-in-law’s moans. That’s like incest or something, right? I’m turned off. Way off. So off I may never turn on again.

I dress quickly into some pajama shorts and a tank top, then shove headphones into my ears so I can drown them out and try to get some sleep.

Not surprising, an hour later I’m still tossing and turning. I slowly remove one of my earbuds, ready to shove it back in at the slightest onset of sex noises again. But the coast seems clear.Horny jackasses.What kind of people can’t even wait a couple of days until they’re back in their own place?

I swing my legs over the bed, my feet gently padding against the floor. Perhaps a nice middle of the night cocktail is in order. I don’t work tomorrow, so no need to worry. Making my way out to the kitchen, I grab the throw from the back of the couch and pour a glass of wine. Fresh air, that’s what I need. I gather my blanket up around me, glass in one hand and slip out onto the balcony, leaving the sliding glass door cracked behind me.

The cool night air hits me and I inhale deeply, smelling the city scent and letting my shoulders fall as I sit down in my chair. The streets below are relatively quiet. Only a few passing vehicles and pedestrians fill the air with any noise.

“You can’t sleep, either?” Declan’s voice comes from my left, startling me. I jump and grab my chest, breathing a sigh of relief at the immediate realization of who it is.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me,” I say, attempting to calm my nerves with another sip of my wine.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “I didn’t expect anyone to be out on their balcony this late.”

“Well, likewise,” I say. “And for the record, no. I can’t sleep. Although, this isn’t exactly new to me.”

“I don’t sleep a lot either,” Declan admits, his voice low and calm. He sounds resolved in the fact, not frustrated or restless.

“You sit out here when you can’t sleep?” I try to recount all the times I’ve been out here, which actually aren’t many. He wasn’t out here for any of them, or I’d have likely marched back inside.

“Sometimes,” he says. “Although, now that I’m out here, I think I should do it more often.”

It’s silent for a moment. I can’t see Declan through the dark, but I can hear him shuffling around a little, perhaps repositioning himself.

I take another sip. “What makes you unable to sleep?”

A long sigh escapes him. “Probably the anxiety. Lots of racing thoughts, too.”

“I don’t think I’d have guessed you have anxiety,” I admit. “You seem so calm.”

“I think anxiety manifests differently for everyone. I’m not the bouncy, unable to sit still type. I don’t look overwhelmed outwardly. But I don’t sleep much, I tend to avoid crowds unless someone drags me out. And the exhibits? They take everything out of me,” he says.

“I can relate to some of that,” I admit. Suddenly, Declan’s demeanor doesn’t seem so strange. He carries himself in a quiet, reserved way, even when he’s attempting to socialize. And he’s not exactly chatty, almost as if he only gives what he needs to.

“Most people don’t get it. And they think I’m rude. It doesn’t help that I awkwardly ask people to come to my apartment. I’m not a smooth talker like Ryan,” he says, exhaling a chuckle.

“You’re right, that doesn’t help.” I laugh. “Maybe you should wear a button or a T-shirt? Hi, I’m Declan and I’m socially awkward.”

“Probably a good idea.” He laughs.

“Well, thanks for telling me. I’m sorry I busted your balls all this time,” I say, and I mean it. After getting to know him over the past couple of weeks, it’s clear he’s not who I thought he was.

“I appreciate that,” he says.

We grow quiet again and I listen to the buzzing of the streetlamp next to me.

“Do you have plans this weekend with your brother and his wife?” Declan shifts in the dark again and I try to focus on him, to see if he’s turned toward me.

“Yeah, we’re going to do a few things,” I say. “Nothing too crazy or intense, given Harper’s condition.”

“Well, if you need an extra person, a buffer so to speak, I’m here,” he says.

“Really? Wait, I thought you were going to paint Harper?” I ask, my eyes still searching the darkness for his face, but I can only see part of a silhouette.

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