Page 13 of Declan's Hope

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“So,”Hope said from her place sitting on the foot of Destiny’s bed, then threw a quick grimace at Haven doing a belly-flop beside her. She shook her head and focused back on Destiny. “Why does Mr. Mystery Recluse Man have you coming in so early on a Saturday morning for this last interview?” She peeked beyond her friend’s straightened, shiny, black hair cascading down to her slender shoulders.

“To his estate, no less,” Haven teased with a grin. She propped herself up on her crossed forearms and gave Hope a little nudge and wink. "It’s so very Fifty Shades."

Destiny paused with her mascara wand hovering over one widened eye—her face contorted in the I’m doing my eyelashes look morphing into a frown. Hope pulled her lips in tight to keep from laughing at the aggravation crossing her creamy mocha features. Destiny flicked her gaze in the mirror at first her then Haven, then back to her own reflection.

How long had it been since they had spent the night together and had one of these morning sessions with each other?

Months.

And Hope had missed it—the three of them together for longer than just an evening out or a quick lunch. Time when they could stay up all night in one of their rooms and talk about anything and everything—give each other a hard time. What were good friends for if you couldn’t occasionally give them grief?

And sure, they’d had a few sleepovers in the months since Haven had move in with Cal. Not only had Hope been preparing lessons for the coming school year, but Destiny and Haven had had their hands full too. Destiny’s class load for her master’s in Library Sciences—Haven hadn’t been the only one working at their college library—had started while she’d applied for internships. And Haven had been prepping for Phase I of the Special Agent test she had to take in less than a week. Her friend would soon be an honest to god FBI agent. So, between all of that, it had been a while.

After Cal had been called out of town for an overnight assignment at the last minute on a Friday, it had been the perfect opportunity for Haven to stay over. It had been like old times.

"Mr. Shaw is not like Christian Grey,” Destiny told them as she darkened her lashes. "And he’s not a recluse. From what I understand, he’s just…” She lowered the wand, closed it up, and set it on the table. The flecks of gold in the irises of her dark brown eyes brightened as she stared at them through the mirror. “Private.”

“How about Bruce Wayne, then.”

Destiny snorted and raised one brow at Haven’s suggestion, saying on a low chuckle, “Bruce Wayne?”

“I don’t know.” Hope winked at Haven’s laughing hazel gaze. “I think you were right the first time. Definitely Christian Grey.”

“You two watch far too many movies.” Destiny turned toward them with a slight chuckle and shake of her head. “Try reading a book.”

“Just so you know, Ms. Librarian, Christian Grey was in three books,” Hope supplied, matter of fact. “The movies came later.”

Haven rolled over, saying, “There were actually two more books after those.” She repositioned herself to a sitting position beside Hope, giving the bed a little bounce. “Told from his point of view.”

“Really? I didn’t kn—“

“Guys.” Destiny interrupted Hope with an expression going from perplexed to resigned as her gaze bounced back and forth between her and Haven. She sighed as she stood, grousing, “I have no words, only to say that I’m surrounded by plebeians.”

“Plebeians?” Hope dramatically clutched at her chest. “I’m wounded.”

“I am too,” Haven said on a huff. “I’ll have you know there’s nothing common about me.” A slow grin spread over her face as she smoothed back a loose, long, dark blond lock that had fallen out of her topknot. “Just ask Cal.”

“Nope,” Hope quickly said while Destiny laughed out a, “No way,” as she slipped on a pair of strappy four-inch heels. It was her friend’s only concession to wearing sandals.

Haven’s knowing gaze narrowed on them one at a time. “You two will be singing a different tune once you both stop being so stubborn when it comes to Declan and Garrett." She should have know that was coming." Why don’t you both just admit you want them just as much as they want you?”

Hope couldn’t help the unwanted—and definitely unadmitted—shiver running through her. Nothing could be called common when it came to how Declan made her feel. She had imagined many times what it would be like to be alone with him—to have all that intensity he focused on her let loose. He’d probably use those big hands of his to—

“Garrett’s not interested in me anymore.” Destiny quietly spoken words dragged her attention back to her friend.

“Why would you say that?” Haven asked as she shared a concerned look with Hope.

“He’s been avoiding me,” Destiny said with a shrug as she turned from them. She grabbed the light sweater complementing her burgundy skirt she’d laid over a nearby chair, her hand visibly crushing the fabric. “And has been for a several weeks now.”

“No, he hasn’t,” Hope said with a scowl, then cast her gaze up at the ceiling as she racked her brain. She couldn’t recall one single time Garrett’s eyes hadn’t followed Destiny’s every move when they were in the same room. “Has he?”

“Mmm-hmm. But that’s okay. It’s not like I’ve encouraged him.” Destiny slipped the sweater on and pulled her hair out from beneath it. She turned to them with a small grin. “Now I don’t have to keep breaking his heart each time I shoot him down.”

“You—“

Haven’s phone rang beside her on the bed, interrupting her. She picked it up, smiled down at the screen, and then glanced up at them. “It’s Cal. Talk some sense into her,” she told Hope as she swiped to answer and bounded up from the bed. “It’s about time you called,” she said while leaving the room.

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