Page 96 of The Bossy One

“I’m on birth control,” I said. “And I’m clean. You?”

He nodded, then kissed me, and we stopped talking after that.

The time for words had passed.

We joined, doing it as slowly as we could, and I could feel his heart thundering under the palm of my hand. We didn’t move for a long time, just savoring the closeness of our bodies, and then he was kissing me again. We were moving, our bodies rocking against each other, until I lost track of where my pleasure ended and his started.

What if he’s the only man in the world for me?The thought was dangerous, unthinkable, terribly vulnerable. But in that moment, it was true too, and I came hard and long, gasping for breath in my lover’s arms.

* * *

I woke gently in the morning, slowly becoming aware of the sound of Declan’s steady breathing, and the weight of his arm on my waist. The early morning light played across his face, highlighting his dark lashes, his sharp nose, his tousled hair.

I bit my lip. Part of me felt like something important had changed. We’d made it past our first big fight as a couple—not that we were a couple, exactly. We were something more than a fling, but less than official boyfriend-girlfriend status. An affair, perhaps?

I smiled to myself. That sounded suitably European and glamorous.

But my smile died away quickly. His thirst for revenge still worried me. I knew the O’Rourkes had hurt him deeply, and I understood him wanting to protect his family and community against them. But that wasn’t the same thing as actively hurting them. Revenge was appealing in theory. Unfortunately in reality, it always seemed to bring unintended consequences, usually to innocent bystanders—like Catie—who got hurt along the way.

Then there was my half of our fight. With the distance of a few days time, I could forgive him for not telling me he was @DBCoder. I had my own emotional baggage about my online world and my real world intersecting, and I’d projected those fears onto his actions in a way that wasn’t fair to him. With my new perspective, I could see that he’d been trying to protect our relationship.

What worried me was that his version of “protecting our relationship” involved withholding information from me. If this was going to last, we needed to be able to communicate with each other.

But by definition, wecouldn’tlast. Even if Declan was the relationship type—which he wasn’t—I was going back to America in less than a month. The distance scared me, and the last thing I wanted was to be together but apart. Maybe I could stay here in Ireland. Maybe I could—

No, Olivia, don’t play with fire,my inner voice chimed.Don’t break your own heart.

“Stop it,” Declan mumbled sleepily.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re staring at me and overthinking everything. I can feel it.” He cracked one eye open and glared at me accusingly.

I couldn’t help it. I giggled.

He smiled and tugged me closer, tucking me under his chin. He sighed elaborately. “Go on. Tell me what you’re worried about, so I can convince you you’re wrong.”

Admitting there was a part of me that wanted our relationship to last felt far too personal, so instead I said, “Tell me about your handle. @DBCoder. Why’d you pick it? It’s a reference to that plane hijacker you like, right?”

“DB Cooper,” he confirmed. “Hijacked a plane in the 70s without hurting anyone, then parachuted away with a bag of stolen cash never to be seen again. I’ve always liked the idea of someone who broke the rules, got rich, and made a clean getaway.”

I wiggled my toes, liking the feel of our limbs tangled together in the soft hotel sheets. “You got what you wanted. You got rich. And you didn’t even have to hijack a plane.”

“Yeah.” He trailed his hand up and down my spine in a lazy path. “I used to envy the money the most. Now I envy the clean getaway.”

I rolled back far enough to see his face clearly. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Just… Running Snug comes with a lot of power, but it also comes with certain responsibilities. Sinead could run away to the States when she wanted to. And I…can’t.”

My heart skipped a beat. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?

“I never realized you wanted to live anywhere but Ireland,” I said carefully.

“I didn’t. I don’t. My mum’s there. My friends are there. Plus, if I leave, there will be no one to stop O’Rourke from bullying the whole bloody village.” He sat up and swung his legs over the bed, turning his back to me. “But…you know. The thought crossed my mind about a week ago. And as soon as it did, I realized it wasn’t an option.”

A week ago, I thought, feeling a little breathless. That was a little after we’d started sleeping together.

Had Declan thought, even for a second, about moving to the US for me?

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