Page 161 of Trying Sophie

He sighed and dropped my gaze, stared out over the garden for a moment, then asked, “Do you want to come inside, or are you heading back to Ballycurra?”

When his eyes met mine again, they were filled with apprehension.

What had gotten in to him? Where was that confident, sexy man who’d picked me up at the airport only a couple of months ago? The one who’d stood in my grandparents’ kitchen and told me he’d get me to break all of my carefully crafted rules because eventually I’d want him so badly that rules no longer mattered? The Declan who said and did whatever he wanted and made no apologies for who he was?

I missed that Declan. This Declan was filled with doubt and self-loathing. Had I done that to him?

Lacing my arm through his, I tugged him along beside me toward the front door. “I didn’t drive all the way out here only to turn around and head back after the match.”

“Alright, good,” he answered, fishing his keys out of his pockets. As if he were trying to convince himself of it, he added a little quieter, “Yeah, okay. That’s good.”

He opened the door and when we stepped through, I was immediately assaulted by the smell of garbage and … something else I didn’t want to identify.

“Holy shit!” I exclaimed reflexively, covering my mouth and nose. “What the hell is that smell?”

“Fuck,” Declan swore, tossing his bag on the ground and stomping toward the back of the house where the kitchen was.

“I forgot to take out the garbage,” he called over his shoulder. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable in the sitting room. Can I get you anything?” he asked, not waiting to hear my answer.

Thinking it odd he’d directed me to the little room at the front of his house since I’d only ever seen it when gave me that first tour of the place, I followed noiselessly behind him. With the only light in the room coming from the bulb over the stove, I could barely make out Declan bent over in front of the sink, pulling out the offending garbage and tying up the bag while cursing up a storm.

He hadn’t seen me enter after him, but I’d seen plenty. The place was an absolute wreck. Empty beer and whiskey bottles covered the counter, his couch was piled high with clothes—and from the smell of it, they were all dirty—and there were pizza and other takeaway boxes scattered across the coffee table and sitting on the floor in front of his favorite leather chair. It looked like someone had gone on a weeks-long bender and hadn’t taken the time to clean up afterwards.

And that’s when I put two and two together. It wasn’t just his house. Declan himself was a wreck. Now I understood why his skin was sallow: he’d been drinking nonstop, something he didn’t normally do. And even though the empty food containers indicated he’d eaten a ton of calories, they weren’t the good, healthy kind that fueled his body for the amount of physical exertion he endured on a daily basis. He hadn’t cut his hair or shaved, not because he was trying out a new style, but because he couldn’t be bothered to keep up with his regular grooming habits.

“Declan?” I asked, in a small, worried voice.

He jumped when he heard me and smacked his head against the counter. “Fuck!” he bellowed, standing straight and rubbing where his skull had connected with the granite. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that.” I glanced around the space once more and asked, “Declan, what’s going on?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around as well, seeing the space through my eyes. “I should have thought ahead. I didn’t want you to see the place like this.”

I stepped into the room and leaned against the island before jumping back when my hand landed in something sticky. Wiping it on my jeans, I said, “I don’t care that the place is a mess. I care why it’s like this. You’re normally so fastidious,” I said, pointedly looking at his face.

It wasn’t that I didn’t think the beard looked good—in fact, it might suit him even better than a freshly-shaved face—but it was so out of character. All of this was.

“The Declan I know and—” I stopped short, catching myself before I blundered into that confession “—he’s more concerned about his hair than anyone I know. With his entire appearance.”

Quickly, he glanced away and then brought his eyes back to mine. “I feel like I’ve messed everything up.”

I held my hand out to him. “Not everything. I’m here, aren’t I?”

Breathing out a sigh of relief, he answered, “And thank fuck for that,” as he took my hand.

“Leave the mess. We’ll get to it later. We need to talk.” Pulling him behind me, we walked out of the room.

His eyes looked panicked, but then he got them under control and agreed. “I know. There’s so much I want to say.”

I smiled at him. “If you have half as much to say as I do, this is going to be a very long night.”

Suddenly his eyes twinkled. “I can think of other ways to pass the time if you get tired of talking.”

“There he is!” I exclaimed, happy to see Declan reclaim a bit of the man who tossed out innuendos and double entendres as easily as he breathed.

He chuckled and pulled me in for a quick kiss. “I can’t believe you’re here. I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” Wrapping his hands around my waist to rest at the small of my back, his eyes sobered and flicked between mine. “You’re really here,” he murmured, as if he just now realized I’d come when he’d asked me to.

“I’m really here,” I confirmed. Digging deep for courage, I promised, “And I’m not going anywhere.”

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