“I’m so sorry.” My chest squeezed, and I wanted to touch him in the worst way. “But surely not everyone in motocross is like that.”
“Probably not, but I can’t take the risk.” Declan exhaled hard, chin dropping to his chest as he studied his hands. “The rumor alone dogged me for years. Hell, one of the sponsors asked about it when I first got invited to be on the manufacturer’s team. Luckily, I’d dated enough chicks that my reputation had started to speak for itself. Problem solved.”
“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow, not at all sure this was the flex he thought it was.
“Okay, well, other than the fact that I knew. Knew I looked at men differently than my friends, knew the things that made me hard weren’t all on the straight path, but I just couldn’t…”
His iron-clad control was both amazing and infuriating. Why couldn’t he let himself have what he so clearly wanted? “But the dating women? That was all just show?”
“Sorta?” Declan’s mouth twisted. “I’m not sure. Ilikewomen. I’ve always found it way easier to have female friends than to make friends with dudes, especially my fellow riders, but even when I was younger, all my best friends were girls. My sister’s friends were much easier to get along with than the guys in my class. Dating lots of women seemed like the next logical step if one looked beyond the whole me being a terrible kisser and bad in bed thing.”
“Are you as bad in bed as you are at kissing?” I asked pointedly, tilting my head. However, when his face fell, I had to chuckle and soften my tone. “I’m kidding, Declan. You’re not bad at kissing. The other night was…”
“Good?” Declan sounded adorably hopeful, and I had to clench my hands to keep from reaching for him.
“Spectacular.” I groaned because feeding Declan’s ego wouldn’t help, but I also couldn’t lie. “Which is why I’m laughing at the idea that you’re bad in bed.”
“I’m hopeless.” Declan sounded robotic, like he was repeating someone else’s judgment. I already wanted to smack whoever had put that idea in his head. “Or maybe it’s that I’m selfish. I don’t know. I just know it’s easier to lie there and let someone else do the work…” He cut himself off with a frustrated noise, burying his head in his hands. “Okay. Selfish is the better word. But figuring out how to get someone else off is hard work.”
I blinked, trying hard not to chuckle but failing miserably.
“Quit laughing. I’m serious.” Raising his head slightly, Declan glared at me. “You have to think about angles and pressure and order of operations and talking enough but not too much.” His glare reached positively lethal levels. “And you wouldn’t even let metryto get you off.”
“Because it would have been a bad idea, not because I didn’t want to.” I held up my hands, way too close to admitting how quickly I’d jerked off after leaving his room. “And definitely not because I thought you were selfish or wouldn’t be able to make me come.”
“I like knowing that.” Declan straightened, shoulders going back as he puffed like a proud penguin. “Maybe it wouldn’t be as confusing with you.”
The hopefulness in his voice made me shift around on the bed. We were quickly wandering into dangerous territory, but I also couldn’t let him continue thinking he was terrible at sex.
“And I’m also saying that with the right person, it’s not work. Also, not everyone wants or expects you to take the active role.”
“God, when my girlfriends try to teach me, it’s worse.” Missing my point entirely, Declan narrowed his eyes. “Like I said, I’m selfish?—”
“You are not.”
“I am.” Declan might not be selfish, but he sure was stubborn. “My favorite thing is getting blown. Or hand jobs. Hand jobs are good. Anything where I can drift off on how good it feels and stop thinking for a few minutes.”
“Making someone stop thinking is kind of the goal,” I countered, trying for a reasonable tone. “And someday, you’ll meet someone who wants nothing more than for you to lie back and be pleasured.”
“And this is where you tell me it can’t be you.” Pushing up from the couch, Declan clomped over to stand in front of the bed and scowl down at me.
“It shouldn’t.” I gazed up at the ceiling light, anything to avoid meeting those compelling eyes of his.
“Which is different from can’t.”
“I don’t want to argue semantics?—”
Declan cut me off with a rude noise. “I’m not sure what that word is. School wasn’t my strong suit. Never fit in there. My whole life, I’ve just wanted somewhere to belong.”
Oh, Declan.My heart twisted painfully, and I could no more avoid looking at him than I could skip my next breath. His soft blue eyes were so sad that the urge to touch him finally won, and I took his hand in mine.
“I’ve been there.” I squeezed his hand. “But you have your family?—”
“The infamous Murphy clan.” Declan snorted and shook his head. “They’re great in theory. But I always feel slightly out of step with the rest of the family. The cousins were all Mount Hope locals, while we were the out-of-towners. My sister had a big group of nerdy friends who tried to include me, but I didn’tfit there either. Then, out of all the sports I tried, I thought I’d found my place with motocross. And I tried so damn hard to belong there.”
He sounded so heartbroken that I was powerless to do anything other than pull him onto my lap.
“I tried to fit in with my family as well,” I admitted in a broken whisper. “Tried to follow the prophet’s rules. My efforts didn’t matter in the end. And with who I am now, I know I never would have belonged there, but that doesn’t make the rejection sting less.”