Wallflower (Whittaker Floral #2)

24. Declan

24

DECLAN

Declan: What are you up to tomorrow?

Ethan: Me and Cora are chillin.

Declan: Brunch?

Ethan: Absolutely, man. We’ll drive to you, if you want.

Declan: That’d be great actually I have no car

Ethan: Was that Hannah’s Audi you drove up in last time?

Declan: Hahaha no she has an old Toyota. I rented it because I needed something nice to drive all week but I'm sure she’d let me borrow the Toyota to drive out to you if you want

Ethan: No, we like to get out. How are things with Hannah, anyway?

Declan: Fuck—long story. We’ll talk tomorrow…meet me at th e hotel at 9:30?

Ethan: Sounds good.

I set my phone down, pacing in the small hotel room, wishing time would move faster.

Hannah and I decided I would stay in the hotel until we were both free on Wednesday, at which point we would move my stuff into her apartment. Of course, my stuff only consisted of a couple suitcases, but this felt like a little vacation before we began what we both knew would be the end.

I’d finally been given a more definitive timeline this morning, which I hadn’t had a chance to share with her yet. In all honesty, I was dreading having another conversation about my leaving, because it always took hours to get back to feeling ourselves when the topic came up.

I'd already gone on a run, visited the gym, and showered this morning, and now I was feeling stir-crazy. I wanted to jog down to Hannah’s apartment, but we’d agreed she would meet me here, since it was so much closer to the park. I pulled on a pair of sneakers to go with my T-shirt and fitted jeans, running my hand through my hair to make it a touch messy, like Hannah liked, and then sitting down in front of ESPN while I scrolled through my phone impatiently.

Although I’d been waiting, I jumped when the knock finally came at the door, and I found her standing in the threshold, looking a bit nervous. I squinted and cocked my head in question. “I was worried I remembered the room number wrong and you would be a stranger,” she admitted, and I laughed, glad that, for once, our problems were small and easy. She’d shown up wearing jeans and a T-shirt, but as she stepped into the room and the door closed behind her, she stripped her shirt off with one arm. I growled my approval, reaching for her, and she laughed, stepping back. “I’m just changing shirts, you horn-dog. Look! I bought this one downstairs.” She held up an old fashioned Cubs shirt with a three-quarters sleeve and a big, faded, red “C.”

“Too late,” I murmured, picking her up under her thighs and tossing her onto the soft bed .

Her laugh was musical. “Won’t we be late to the game?”

“I’ll be fast, baby, don’t worry.” I winked, tugging at her pants until I was able to pull them off. She squirmed away and knelt at the top of the bed, now just in bra and panties. Wasting no time, I stripped off my pants and rolled on a condom.

“Well,” she began, her hands on her hips, “I hate to slow you down, but this time you’re going to have to tell me what you want.”

I smiled, not feeling the slightest shame or hesitation. “I want you . I want to run my hands down your whole body, I want to kiss you until you’re out of breath, and I want to feel myself inside you. I want to feel your body come apart around me.” Satisfied with my answer, she stood on top of the bed and walked to the edge, and I grabbed both her thighs to hold her in place, running my tongue along the silk of her panties. She moaned her appreciation, and I continued my exploration even as my fingers grazed down each of her long legs until they were wrapped around her ankles. Then, with a single swift pull, I took her legs out from under her and she dropped her onto the bed in front of me, laughing. I crawled up her body, my motions almost predatory. “Take those off,” I requested, and she quickly slid out of panties and bra, rolling onto her stomach and lifting her rounded ass into the air. “Fuck,” I groaned, climbing higher onto the bed until I could hold her hips and push into her. She let out a deep, throaty sigh as my hips pressed fully against her ass, and I remained still for a moment, savoring the feeling of being so deeply seated in her.

“Declan,” she pleaded, and the sound of my name on her lips shot through me like lightning. I dug my fingers into her hips, rocking her into me with every thrust. She was moaning noisily, calling out my name and panting for more, and her begging mixed with the slapping of our skin was too fucking hot. I’d promised to be fast, but I hadn’t intended to be so fast she wouldn’t enjoy it. Leaning forward, I reached between her legs, finding her clit and circling it, looping my other arm around her shoulder to pull her back against me harder with every thrust. Hannah squeaked, barely able to make a sound, and I felt her muscles flex around me powerfully. It was fast and sexy and amazing, and I fell forward against her with my final thrusts, still holding one shoulder and her hip.

“Fuck, woman, you turn me on like no one, ever,” I groaned, but it was the truth.

I felt her laughter before I heard it, and she shifted out of my grasp, rolling to face me. “Declan Andrews, do you think I was the type of woman who was having sex multiple times a day before I met you? Believe me, you do something to me . I barely even thought about sex before I met you, and now I literally ache for you all day.”

I kissed her once, then sat up to peel off the condom, tossing it in a nearby garbage. “You ache, eh?”

She straddled me, the center of her pressed deliciously against my fully naked dick. “Yes, I ache. I’ll be going about my day, and then I think of you, and there’s a fire deep in my belly that makes me throb .” Her hips rolled once, and I felt myself getting hard again. She leaned in, whispering, “I literally ache for your touch—for the feel of you in me—until I see you again. It’s never happened with any other man, and it’s become my favorite torture.” Her hips flicked once more, and I groaned as she stood from my lap.

“You’ve got to put on your clothes before I skip this game and take advantage of you for the next three hours,” I said in a near whisper, looking down at my watch. The game started in twenty minutes. She grinned and bent in front of me to pick up her panties, her beautiful ass up in the air. “Oh, fuck this,” I muttered and grabbed her again, tossing her onto the bed and yanking out another condom.

We dressed quickly and made it down to the game during the first inning. I brought Hannah to my seats along the first-base line, glad the safety netting extended to the edge of the dugout, as Hannah was often distracted and surely wouldn’t have been able to avoid a foul ball. I explained some of what was happening and she listened with surprising attention, remembering many details even later in the game. We bought beers and peanuts, breaking shell after shell as we watched and talked.

I stopped periodically to make notes and take pictures and she waited quietly, not wanting to bother me, but she usually had a question or two afterwards, whether about the work directly or about baseball itself.

Somewhere around the sixth inning, I was struck with the thought that this wonderful, beautiful, perfect woman would only be mine for another fifty-eight days. The thought left a physical pain in my chest, and I was loath to pass that suffering on to Hannah, but she needed to know. “Han?” I asked. She turned to me, eyes light and a smile on her lips. I was about to take that smile off her face, I knew. “I got word I’ll be leaving Chicago on August 16th.” I inhaled deeply, bracing myself to tell her the worst of the news. It would’ve thrilled me months ago, but now it only left a pit of misery and regret in my belly. “I get to go home for a few weeks and then I’m being sent to Japan for the end of their season and the MLB Japan All-Star Series in November.”

She stared at me, her face gone blank. “Japan? The country?”

I snorted humorlessly. “Japan, the country,” I verified. Her eyes dropped down, shifting back and forth, scanning the ground for nothing in particular. “You okay?” I asked.

“Yes. I just…I just didn’t picture you half a world away.”

I touched her cheek, drawing her gaze back up to mine. “Is half a world so much different than half a country?”

She frowned. “I guess not.” I watched her carefully, unfooled by the determinedly happy expression she forced onto her face. “August sixteenth is a long time, though, and I plan to spend as much of it as possible with you.”

I smiled back at her, not sure if my sadness was visible. “It’s still a long time,” I agreed.

The next morning, I met Ethan and Cora in the lobby of the hotel and we headed out to get breakfast. Walking down the street, I raised an eyebrow at Ethan as the third young, attractive woman stopped to marvel over the baby and chat him up simultaneously. This woman placed a hand on his bicep and I grinned as he shifted the baby bag he was carrying so she was knocked unceremoniously away. Undeterred, she turned her attention to me, cutting the space between us. “You must be the world’s best uncle, then?” By all accounts the woman was attractive. She was thin with large breasts, blonde hair in a messy bun on top of her head, and a full face of makeup that highlighted pretty blue eyes. She was wearing running clothes, but seemed like she’d be out of place running.

I smiled at her charmingly, “No, I’m the self-absorbed uncle. I’ve actually never even held the baby.” I raised my eyebrows, eyes twinkling even as the pretty woman’s face fell. “You’re gonna want to hold out for her pediatrician uncle, I’m betting he’s the best.” The woman scowled and walked off in a huff, and I turned to Ethan. “What the fuck is happening here?”

Ethan laughed, beginning to walk again. “I don’t know. It happens all the time.” He shrugged, his head bobbing left and right, and Cora giggled, placing her pudgy hands on his cheeks to try and make him do it again. “To be fair,” he continued through squished cheeks, now bopping his head like a bobblehead doll to keep her laughing, “this is probably the worst it’s been.” He paused a minute, grabbing one of Cora’s hands and giving her palm a kiss, freeing his face in the process. “Have you really never held Cora?”

I grimaced. “No. I’m a little afraid, honestly. What if I drop her?”

He smiled and thumped me on the back. “You’re not going to drop her. And, Deck,” he dipped his chin to look at me seriously, although we were the same height and it was wholly unnecessary, “Mason’s a great guy, but you’re her uncle.”

“He’s her uncle, too,” I muttered.

“You know what I mean.”

I clenched my jaw once, thinking about my talk with Hannah, in which she’d told me to share my feelings with Ethan. I stopped walking, the words flowing out of me before I knew what I was saying. “Yeah, I do, but it’s a little hard for me, I’m sorry. I mean, Mason probably knew about Max, Ellie, and Cora before I did.” Ethan was quiet, and I could tell by the frown that clouded his face I was right. I snorted and began walking again. We were almost to our brunch spot. I started to turn into the restaurant, but Ethan grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back.

I shook him off, harder than was necessary, then stood still, glaring at him. He spoke first. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” You would’ve thought the apology would make me feel better, but it didn’t. I stared dispassionately at my brother, and seeing I was generally unmoved by his apology, he continued, “What the fuck, Deck? What do you want me to say?”

“You fucking disappeared, man. I want to know why. I’m not Mom and Dad. I wasn’t going to judge you or tell you how you fucked up.”

Ethan sighed. “I don’t know. When I found out about Max—I thought it was the worst thing I’d ever done—like I’d abandoned my son, even though I never knew about him. I was embarrassed and angry, and I didn’t want to talk about it. It was bad enough Max and his grandparents knew.” He cringed. “I’m still embarrassed, but for different reasons now, I guess.”

“You could’ve told me.” I was being petulant now, but it was hard to set all those hurt feelings aside.

He looked at me seriously. “I know. I’m sorry.”

There was a long pause, just me looking at my brother, trying to decide if I could man up enough to accept his apology and forgive all the hurt. It wouldn’t do either of us a favor to pretend it was in the past if it was still eating at me. The thing was, I understood him. I understood why he’d pulled away and tried to deal with things on his own. I probably would’ve done something similar if I’d been in his shoes. But I hadn’t known that. Instead I’d been left to wonder what I’d done wrong, and those fears had eaten at me. Finally, I nodded. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have let you get away with that shit.”

Ethan shot me a grin, clapping me once on the shoulder, and we entered the restaurant. We were seated at a table with three chairs and a high chair, and as Ethan attempted to maneuver the high chair with one hand he said, “Want to hold her? You won’t break her.” He held out baby Cora and she looked at me, gurgling and smiling. I reached out to take her cautiously. She grinned bigger, showing two little teeth, and put a chubby hand on my cheek near my mouth. I pretended to eat it, and she giggled, slapping at my cheek again.

Our game continued like this for quite some time until the waitress came up. She leaned over us, smiling, “Oh, she is so cute,” she gushed. “How old is she?”

“Eight months,” I guessed. In reality, I had no idea, but behind the waitress Ethan held up a both hands, revealing five fingers and a thumb. Okay, she was six months old, good to know.

“Well, you are so cute like your daddy, aren’t you?” the waitress said, poking Cora’s little tummy. I looked past the baby and waitress to Ethan in disbelief. He shrugged, looking amused. “What’ll you have?” she said, the query sounding more like an invitation than a question.

“I’ll have the black bean cakes, please,” I answered politely.

“I’ll have the same, but with the sauce on the side,” Ethan said. The waitress glanced at Ethan as if she were surprised to see him there, then smiled.

“Coming right up!” She bounced away from our table, her ponytail swinging.

I turned my attention back to Ethan. “Jesus, you must really love Ellie.”

He grinned. “I do. Besides Max, she’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

I looked down at the baby. “Cora looks a lot like her mom, doesn’t she?”

Ethan beamed. “She’s gorgeous, I know.”

I smiled at him. A few months ago I would’ve rolled my eyes at him for being so gobsmacked with Ellie, but now I thought I understood, and though I wasn’t looking to have babies any time soon, the thought of a little girl who was the spitting image of Hannah made my chest swell .

Ethan stood and took Cora, setting her in the highchair next to him. “Speaking of love, you alluded to some troubles with Hannah?”

I sighed deeply and rubbed one temple. “I love her, E.”

He frowned. “She doesn’t feel the same?”

“No, she loves me. The problem is she lives here and…I don’t. I’m leaving here and going home for a couple of weeks before I head to Japan.”

“You’re going to Japan?”

“Japan, the country, yes.”

He looked at me quizzically for a moment, then refocused. “That’s awesome, I’m insanely jealous. I’d love to see the Japanese All-Star Game…” he trailed off for a moment, still staring at me, then continued simply, “but you should probably quit that job.”

“What?” I asked, the confusion written on my face.

He took a sip of his coffee, calm as fuck, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on my life. “You know you should, you just don’t want to. You want it all to magically work itself out so you can have everything.” I scowled, but he continued talking. “But what if things don’t fall into place? What if you actually have to choose? Ellie and I…hit a rough patch…” He waved a hand dismissively, clearly not wanting to get into the story. “We were apart for a couple of weeks, and it killed me. All the things I’d thought made me happy before were meaningless, because she’d made me happier than I’d ever been. And maybe you don’t feel like that, in which case, go to Japan because that’s really cool, but if you do feel that way about Hannah, this job will only be a prison, Deck.” The food came, and Ethan began taking apart bits of his black bean cake and putting them into a pile to feed Cora. “You’ve still got some time here to decide, right?”

“Fifty-seven days.”

“Nice. Eight weeks to decide, so don’t rush it. Also,” he took a bite of food, “I think Cora and I should try and meet up with you at least once a week until you leave, because I’m going to miss having you here, man.”