Wasted Time (The Steel City #1)

19. Declan

CHAPTER NINETEEN

declan

I am trying to give Penelope Anne Sweeten some grace with all that she’s going through, but it’s really fucking hard. I’m losing my mind.

Waking up alone in that hotel room had been one thing. On one hand, I understand. Penny isn’t great with showing her cards, with being vulnerable, and I can only imagine what was going on inside that beautiful, crazy mind when she woke up tangled in me.

So, she ran. I get that. She is very newly single and just hopped into bed with me, her friend that she had just unfriended. I imagine despite all of it, it still kind of felt like she had cheated on that dickwad. She would need a minute to sort this one out in her brain.

All of that was fine. It is fine. I just needed to know that she was okay. I couldn’t be positive what time she snuck out, and my fear was that she tried to walk somewhere on her own to clear her head. We had been drinking, and for some reason, drunk, sad girls like to walk places.

She did not answer a single one of my calls. She didn’t answer one text, even when I made it clear that I could handle the space she wanted, but all I needed to know is that she was okay.

I didn’t want to call Seth, but I had no other option. I was sick to my stomach.

Seth lives with the other twin, the other half of Penny’s heart and soul. He’d have the information that I needed to stop from freaking out, or he’d have information that would send me into a panic, but I was pretty sure that Penny was alive. I was fairly positive that she had just fled into another set of arms. A much shorter pair of arms.

Imagine my surprise when I learned she’d been at his house all day and was currently getting ice cream with Avery. I’m glad she’s okay. Of course I am. I’m not a monster.

But… seriously?

Seriously, Penny?

The rejection eats at me. It gnaws at my stomach.

I am not sure I can live without Penny in my life. Not after last night. If she cuts me off for good, it might drive me insane. I need that girl. I was selfish, kissing her like I did. I am more than aware that the first time you kiss a girl, it shouldn’t be while she’s mourning another man. I took it one step further and had sex with her.

I shouldn’t have done that. I set us up for failure, even if I wanted it more than I’ve ever wanted anything in the fucking world. My big head knew that it was going to end poorly, but my little head was too busy focusing on the feeling of her hand rubbing against it.

Fuck.

I squeeze my eyes shut as my cock twitches in my briefs. I feel like shit about it all, yes, but I would still relive every single second of it until my dying day if I were able to.

Her eyes burning into mine as I pushed inside of her, the sound of her sweet moans, and holy hell —the feeling of her squeezing me like the gods crafted our bodies with the other in mind. It was something I hadn’t expected. She was something I hadn’t seen coming. Something that fucked with my head a bit.

Gabe is a fucking idiot.

He had all of those years with her and he wasted them . I only had one taste and I already know there is no way in hell I’d ever be able to give her up if I had her. She’s it . She’s all consuming. She is a woman you never let go of if you’re lucky enough to grab hold of her.

I would have liked to tell her that when we were both sober. Didn’t get the chance. Not sure she would have been receptive if I did, anyway.

She’s heartbroken. Like the devastated, life-changing, agonizing kind of heartbroken. So many years spent with one person. I haven’t even been with a girl for ten weeks before. She’s understandably all sorts of fucked up right now, and I probably just fucked her up even more.

Great move, Declan.

If she would answer just one text, we could talk about this. The longer we leave it, the worse this is going to get. I can’t handle letting this fester and putting a permanent wedge between us, something more concrete than an Instagram unfollow. She’s going through hell, so I have no intention of dropping all my shit on her, too. Feelings and all of that.

I just want my friend back.

But I let her silence get to me. For some reason, I react poorly when she shuts me out. I can’t keep my composure with her. I said some crap I shouldn’t have said again. Took it a bit too far. Maybe it was to get a reaction, to get her talking, but it was a dumb move, and I knew that as my fingers typed out the message.

I said the worst possible thing that I could have because I needed her to feel a portion of the sting I was feeling. As if she wasn’t already going through it, right?

Because what she did stung. I understand it. I understand her more than she thinks I do. But I’m still her friend, no matter what. She could have just told me that she needed a minute. That’s all I needed. She could have treated me a little bit better than she had.

There is literally no evidence that she was ever here in this suite. She scrubbed the room clean of herself, but I feel her. I feel her nails against my skin and the warmth of her body against mine. I smell her in the pillows, like coffee and goddamn sunshine. Most people wouldn’t describe such a closed off little spitfire as sunshine, but she is. She warms every room I’m in.

Well, I’m hard as a rock now.

Is it pathetic to jerk off to a girl that fled in the middle of the night like she was Batman and Gotham was calling her?

Yes, Declan, it is.

Still, my hand slips under my briefs and I try to flush her from my system the same way she wormed her way in.