Page 125 of Fumbled Into Love

The light flicks on and I glance down at my cup. Thank god my smoothie survived.

“We need to talk,” Henry says, leaning against a storage shelf.

“I told you that dragging him in like the movies was a bad idea,” Jack says, leaning against the large, industrial-sized washer machine.

Declan stands at the center, a Cheshire smile on his lips. He looks like the version of Declan I know and my chest twists.

“Considering I had to witness your dick windmill around as you scurried through the house last week and I’ve needed time to banish that memory from my mind—”

“Get to the point, Declan,” I say, sipping my smoothie.

There is a reason that he ripped me into the equipment room and Jack and Henry are here.

This is my love intervention.

“When are you going to pull your stubborn ass from your head?” Declan barks, brimming with anger.

My head jerks back in shock. I did not expect him to be angry with me.

“I think he means stubborn head out of your ass,” Henry amends.

“Yes, that!” he yells. “When are you going to pull it out and tell Nathalie that you love her and you want to be with her and youzinged?!” I quickly realize that this isn’t about Nathalie and I, the way tears brim in his eyes. “There’s a real chance that you could spend your life with someone you love. Why are you throwing it away?”

His shoulders slump and all I can muster up is a slack-jawed response.

“I’ve spent the last few weeks at your house and do you know what I’ve seen?” Declan’s anger returns and my eyes flick to Henry and Jack, who both share looks of concern. Outside of the day Declan found out that Alan died, he’s been stoic about it, numb, even. Now, his rage is clear and aimed in my direction.

“I have a feeling you're about to tell me,” I grumble, finishing my smoothie.

“I’ve seen two people who are clearly in love with each other!” I school my features, letting him release whatever emotions have built up in his chest. Henry squeezes Declan’s shoulder and he shudders a breath. “I-I’m yelling,” he says, as though surprised by that fact.

His eyes are wild and I take a step in the small storage room, wrapping my arms around his chest until we’re in an odd embrace. A choked sob echoes through the tiny room and another set of arms wraps around us as Jack joins the hug. Then another when Henry completes the odd, but comforting dude hug that we’ve got going on.

Declan cries in the center, shoulders shaking.

“I’m all alone now,” he chokes out.

“That’s not true,” Jack counters. “You have us. Maren. Sawyer. Nathalie and her family.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” I agree. “We’re a family.”

He sniffles as he wipes away rogue tears. If someone walked into the room, there would be a massive amount of confusion, but the moment fizzles and Declan stands a bit taller beside Henry’s side.

“If you want to stay with Sawyer and me for a while, we would love to have you,” Henry offers, and Declan nods. “That is if Deon bucks up and tells Nathalie he loves her and you have to leave his guest room.”

Three sets of eyes fall on me and I squirm.

“I-I don’t know how she feels…”

“Have you asked her?” Jack prods and the question makes me feel like a stupid chump. I haven’t asked her and he knows that. They all do.

“It’s not real,” I whisper.

It’s all that bounces around in my mind.

For her, it’s not real.

“For someone with multiple college degrees and one of the highest football IQs I’ve ever seen, you are awfully stupid when it comes to love,” Henry declares and I choke on his insult.

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