Page 97 of Fumbled Into Love

“Therapy helps me. Talking to Sharon, even if it’s incoherent rambling, helps calm my mind and ease the weight on my chest.”

“Hm. Maybe I’ll try that.” We break apart, and it’s slight, but Declan holds himself a bit higher. “The guest room is yours for as long as you want.”

“Not because you want Nathalie to have to sleep in your bed?”

A small, smug smile lifts his lips, and I hide my own behind a cough.

“It’s because we’re friends.” He lifts a brow. “That’s a perk,” I mumble quietly.

“Thanks,” he says quietly as he walks out of the room. The door is nearly shut when I hear him add, “You should tell her how you feel.”

Well, this is awkward.

Declan follows me into my home, bags dangling off his shoulder. We stopped at his apartment to grab a few things when we landed in Seattle, and now here we are, weirdly standing in the entryway of my house.

I know I’m the one making it weird, but I don’t know how to fix that.

I’m nervous, but not for the reason he expects. Nathalie is sleeping in my bed tonight, and I plan to make it much more memorable than the last time.

“This is it,” I say, filling the silence and gesturing to the kitchen. “I ordered groceries. Help yourself to whatever you like.”

He nods and follows as I move around the house, pointing out the different spaces. I open the hall closet to show him Nathalie’s tower of shoes, and he chuckles. “There are more around the house, so watch your step.”

“What’s that?”

Declan points at the massive structure in the corner of the living room. There are different levels with scratch poles and dangling toys.

“Gordie’s domain. It’s his cat fortress.” Gordie perches at the top, and I quickly move past. His paw swipes out to attack, and Declan chuckles. He may love Nathalie, but he still only tolerates me. “This is the guest room. The bathroom is across the hall next toThe Lair.”

Nathalie’s silly nickname for the room rolls off my tongue, and I wish I could shove it back into my mouth the way Declan’s eyes brighten.

“The Lair?”

“It has all my…things,” I say awkwardly as Declan bolts past into the room.

He surveys the space in silence, back to me, and when he spins, he has a goofy smile on his face.

“You two were made for each other.” He shakes his head in amusement.

I grunt a response and leave him to settle into the guest room.

I’m halfway to the kitchen when Nathalie rounds the corner, stomping through the hallway, and my stomach plummets as the surprise and joy on her face register.

“There you are!” she yells. I didn’t know she was here, or else I would have made her give the tour with me. Nathalie stops inches away, her arms beginning to lift before they dart back to her side. “I didn’t know you were home.”

“Declan and I just got here,” I say, taking a step closer, leaning against the counter to trap her between my arms. It’s been too long since I’ve touched her. Tasted her. Nathalie gulps, focus darting between my eyes and lips. “I missed you, ” I murmur, my breath hot against her lips.

Nathalie pushes her glasses up, and I dart out to grip her wrist, playing with the friendship bracelet I made for her. The oranges and purples remind me of her, bright and bubbly.

I’ve decided wrist touches are platonic. Take that rule number two.

“You did?”

She asks as if it’s the most unbelievable concept in the world that I would miss her when I’m away. I nod, thumb swiping against her pulse.

Wide eyes meet mine, and she whispers, almost incoherently, “It wasn’t Gordie who missed you. It was me.”

I bark out a laugh. “You mean to tell me my geriatric demon cat didn’t miss me?”

---