“That’s not true,” I said. “I wanted you as a friend, just because I didn’t love you back then… or didn’t think I did… jeez.” I scrubbed my hair and hopelessness consumed me. “Days before your wedding, you’re telling me in some random message that you need me, what did you expect me to do?”
He pressed his temples with shaking fingers. “Accept I was drunk and disregard it the way you ignored my wedding invitation?”
“I still have it!” I pulled out the battered card that never left my side. “I left home as soon as I got your message that you needed me—”
“I don’t want to talk about this,” Dec murmured. He was pale and shivering despite the coat he was still wearing.
“I just wanted to stop you from doing something you’d regret.”
“What were you going to do? Come storming into the wedding ceremony and shout for us to stop the wedding?”
I couldn’t meet his gaze because that is exactly what I’d done. I must have shown my reaction because Declan snorted in disbelief.
“Is that what you were going to do? You were going to destroy the best day of my life?”
“But it wasn’t the best day was it! When you called me, you implied you didn’t want to marry him. You asked me to rescue you!”
Declan’s lips trembled and sudden tears spilled down his cheeks. He covered his beautiful eyes with his hands. I’d made so many mistakes, and now I was in the middle of a situation I couldn’t control, and my best friend—the one I’d hurt—was crying softly because I was shouting, and he still hadn’t taken his hands from his eyes.
“Declan, shit. I’m sorry.”
He ignored me, and swiped at his tears—glancing around us as if he expected people to be staring—then checked his watch. “Whatever, Pads; it’s done now.” He sounded tired. “I have a blinding headache, and the cab will be here soon.”
He stared out the window, lost in thought, which gave me a chance to examine him. He was exhausted—that much was true—and pale, probably from the drink earlier, although he’d eaten a cookie, and there had been a half-eaten one next to him when I’d surprised him. I just hoped he’d keep the cookie and coffee down, otherwise his stomach was going to eat itself. Hell, he had to be still intoxicated—after all, it hadn’t been long since the manager and I had gotten him back in his room.
“You kissed me at graduation,” I whispered, and he flinched. “I was wrong to give a shit what my alpha brothers thought. I was wrong to push you away and to ignore my feelings, and I was wrong to hate that I’d lost you to another man. Shit, Dec, I was wrong to background check your fiancé because I was losing you. I was wrong about everything. But we can fix things, can’t we? You’re my best friend, and you asked me to rescue you and—”
“Are we done here, because I don’t need rescuing,” he interrupted, and then closed his eyes. “We’re done here,” he answered his own question.
He stood, and I scrambled to stand just as quickly.
He was still smaller than me, never hitting any late growth spurt he’d promised he was going to, and I had at least six inches over him, and he was slimmer than I remembered. Maybe, he’d tried to lose weight for the wedding—or maybe he’d not been eating right? He used to do that in college, until I realized that sometimes he was so engrossed in his art that food wasn’t even on his radar. I’d looked after him, and in return he’d looked after me right back.
I followed him, like a puppy on a leash, ready to share a cab, or if worse came to worse, run alongside it to his place. I wasn’t going to let him out of my sight until I made sure he was okay.
“Stop following me, Pads, I don’t want to talk to you, or think about what happened. I just need to go.” He ran a hand through his messy curls, grabbed the handle of his bag, and left the coffee nook, the wheels of his suitcase clicking with every turn. I couldn’t move, torn between doing what he asked, and wanting to go after him and make him stop. How did I do that without asking questions, or talking, or begging and pleading, or telling him how fucking stupid I’d been?
How could I fix this?
Chapter Six
DECLAN
The wheels of the suitcase caught on a floor runner, and I yanked at it so hard I nearly lost my balance. Sadness and regret made me uncoordinated and panicked—or was that just the remainder of the champagne in my system? Everything was suspiciously blurry, but when I blinked, I realized tears had collected in my eyes again, and I had to swipe them away. I was a fucking mess, and I needed to get out of here.
“Mr. Grady? Is everything okay?”
Chet touched my arm as he fell into walking at my side.
“It’s all good,” I lied.
“I wanted to tell you that your driver is delayed—there’s been a minor accident on Larch Road, and the way in is blocked.” I stopped dead, but Chet carried on walking until he realized I wasn’t right next to him, and then hurried back the few steps. “Mr. Grady?”
“How long is the delay?”
“As soon as the road is cleared…”
He broke off as a loud cheer emanated from the open door to the hockey event. For a moment, I focused on the logo on the door, a puck, and some crossed sticks, along with a hockey player with photoshopped tinsel, stars, and a golden cup. Whoever had made it had done a good job, but I knew I could’ve done better by hand-sketching the player and making sure the extras were integrated into the overall design, maybe with a—
“Mr. Grady? Sir?”
“Sorry, you were saying?”
“I can rebook the car for the morning, or—”
“No, I’ll wait.” I said in a hurry, then took a step back and away from Chet, who was staring at me curiously. Jesus, what did I look like right now? Was I still crying? I touched a finger to my eyes, but it didn’t seem as if the remains of my broken heart were leaking from them right now. Way to go, Declan.
I sidestepped more potential embarrassment and headed into a small concession selling crystals, where I hid behind a stand of astrology cards.
“Oh my,” a small voice murmured.
I turned to find someone that I assumed was the owner, given she was draped in a flowing jewel-colored silk top over ratty jeans, and seemed as if she might be someone who owned a shop rooted in the ethereal.
“Sorry, I want to just…” Hide out, avoid, deny, escape.
“Here,” she said, and tugged me toward a chair behind a shorter case of crystals. I found myself nose to nose with a crystal labeled Lapis Lazuli, which had the most beautiful sapphire hue. The same as Patrick’s eyes. “Are you hiding from tall, dark, and sexy out there?” she whispered.
I didn’t have to ask who she meant; tall, dark, and sexy summed up Patrick completely.
“I’m waiting for a cab,” I said, and I wasn’t lying.
“Stay as long as you need, only, you’re going to have to get past him eventually.”
“Not if I go out of a side door before he realizes,” I muttered.
She chuckled. “He’ll find you, wherever you are,” she said, and shook her hand, which clattered all the bracelets up her arm. “Love is like that,” she added.