Page 42 of Taking A Chance

I return to the living room, setting the snacks out on the coffee table and grabbing two wine glasses from the kitchen. Half a minute later, as I’m pouring wine, I hear my door shut behind me. I turn in time to see Declan walk toward the couch, and I note his appearance. He’s wearing a T-shirt that has the collar ripped out and bits of paint on it. My eyes travel down, anddamn, damn, double damn. He’s wearing the gray sweatpants.The. Gray. Sweatpants.Talk to any woman, and it doesn’t matter which gray sweatpants specifically, they arethegray sweatpants. Because boy, those sure do something to a man. They hang low on the hips, somehow hugging curves. Then, there are theimpressions. I swallow hard, trying not to look directly at them, but it’s more of an eclipse.

“You ready?” he asks.

No. The answer is no.

25

Cora

I tryto recall the last time I had a man in my apartment. At least one I was dating or attracted to, anyway. It’s so far back there, I don’t even think it counts anymore.Born again.

Declan sits down on the couch next to me, not too close but not hugging the opposite end. If either of us were to move our legs an inch toward the other, we’d be touching.

“Did you decide on a movie?” he asks, cupping one of the wine glasses and bringing it to his lips.

“Oh, right,” I say. “I was thinking a classic. Jason or Michael?”

“Ooooh, tough choice,” he says, rubbing his fingers over the stubble on his chin. “I’m going to have to go with big Mike.”

“Big Mike?” I laugh.

“Well, he’s not small,” he says, laughing and shrugging.

“Fair enough,” I say, as I click through the options to findHalloween.

The movie starts and I realize two things: One, I need a blanket; and two, for all the snacks here, we don’t have popcorn, which is essential to me.

“I’m going to make popcorn real quick. Do you want some?” I ask, standing from the couch and stretching my arms over my head.

“I’ll help,” he offers. “Oh, and I know this is a strange request, but can I have a blanket? It’s not a proper movie night without a blankie over my lap.”

Is he reading my mind? Has he been spying on me?“Yeah, there are some bigger ones in the hall closet if you want to grab one. I was just thinking about that, too.”

Declan smiles, then heads down my hall as I make my way to the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, we have a fluffy blanket stretched over both our laps and Declan scoots closer, his thigh pressing against mine as he holds the big bowl of buttery popcorn between us to share. I lean into the bowl—and him, pulling my feet underneath me.

Declan launches a piece of popcorn in the air and it comes down, landing in his mouth. He’s so much more relaxed like this than I’ve ever seen him. Anytime I’ve been witness to him interacting with someone, he’s so quiet, stoic even. He feels like one of those people that chooses every word they say carefully.

“This is my favorite part,” he says.

I focus, realizing I’ve only been staring at the screen without actually comprehending what’s happening. Michael Myers has a sheet over his head, and I get the sinking feelingI’min over my head. I need both hands to count how many months it’s been since I last had sex. I’m so pent up at this point, I could probably get to O-town from a firm handshake.

“Hey,” he says. “Are you okay?”

Apparently, I’m so spaced out that Declan feels the need to check on me.God, that’s bad.

“Yeah,” I say, shoving a handful of popcorn into my mouth. “Just a long day, like I said.”

“Come here,” he says, taking the bowl of popcorn from between us and setting it on the table. He turns his body toward me, throwing one leg behind me on the couch, urging me to turn my back to him.

I scoot backward until I’m cradled between his thighs, and he presses his big warm hands against my back. He starts a circular motion with his thumbs, pressing into my flesh over and over again, concentrating on the knotted muscles between my shoulder blades.

My shoulders drop of their own accord and I exhale, immediately relaxing into his touch. A small moan escapes my lips, unfiltered and deep. I’m powerless to stop it as his hands glide up my spine, his fingers pressing into the tender parts of my neck.

“Feel good?” he asks.

I roll my neck around, savoring each touch. “You have no idea.” I sigh.

---