Page 34 of Declan

The tension is thick, almost tangible, stretching between us like a live wire. It coils around us, buzzing with everything unsaid, anger, desire, regret. A bubble of heat and intensity that keeps us frozen in place. Neither of us moves. Neither of us can.

His jaw flexes, like he’s fighting something, himself, maybe. And God, I wish I didn’t feel it too. That same war. That same fire.

Then.

“Lee Lee, there you are.”

Pop.

Just like that, the bubble bursts.

Wesley.

Declan’s gaze drops instantly. He brings his beer to his lips, the movement smooth, practiced like he needs the taste of it to swallow down whatever just passed between us. He doesn’t take a step back, but the space between us feels like an abyss now. Cold and empty.

Wesley pulls me into a hug without hesitation, and even though he shattered the moment, a genuine smile tugs at my lips as I wrap my arms around him.

My brother.

I didn’t realize how much I needed this until now. The familiar comfort of my brother.

“Hey, Wesley,” I say, my voice softer than it’s been all night.

He pulls back, gripping my shoulders as he studies my face. His smile is bright and real, but there’s something protective in his eyes, too. Like he’s scanning me, making sure I’m whole. Safe.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” he says, giving me a little shake like he can’t believe I’m actually standing here.

“You invited her?” Declan’s voice cuts through, low and sharp.

I glance at him. His eyes meet mine for the briefest second, and then they’re on Wesley. Detached again.

“Of course,” Wesley replies, grabbing the beer the bartender slides across the counter like it was already waiting for him. “I wanted to make sure she was good for myself.”

He takes a long drink, then his brow dips.

“Why?” he adds, turning toward Declan.

There’s a pause. Tension thickens again, but it’s different now, less electric, more loaded.

Declan opens his mouth, but I beat him to it. “Oh, he had just asked if you knew I was here,” I say, trying to ease the shift. I can feel both of them watching me now, but for very different reasons.

“Yeah,” Declan says, agreeing.

Wesley raises an eyebrow, but shrugs. He turns to me, smirking a little. “Didn’t think you’d actually show.”

I glance at Declan, who runs a hand through his already messy hair. That small, frustrated movement says more than any words could. He’s unraveling, just like I am. We’re both trying to pretend we’re not standing in the middle of a storm.

“Needed to get out of my head,” I say honestly, looking back at Wesley. “Thought I’d dance. Drink. Forget.”

Wesley nods, understanding etched into his features. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Lee.”

“I know.” My voice catches, and I clear my throat.

Declan sets his beer down on the bar a little harder than necessary. The thud makes Wesley glance at him. Declan doesn't flinch under the scrutiny. He just leans on the bar, eyes flicking to the dance floor like he’s already somewhere else.

But I know he’s not.

He’s still here.

---