Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Sit and let me cook for you for once.” He punctuated the order with a firm stare.
“Yes, sir.”
“French toast, okay?” He pulled eggs, syrup, and bread out of the fridge.
“We’re out of bacon again, but there’s plenty of bread.”
“Sounds great.” I would have eaten canned beans at room temperature if he served them up, but Declan wanting to take care of me never failed to make my chest warm and light.
“French toast is one of the things I learned to make when my parents worked long hours.”
“Awesome.” I tried not to swoon as he expertly beat the eggs, milk, and vanilla together. “Speaking of, did your dad make it to the movie night?”
“Yeah, he was late, but no surprise there.” Declan shrugged as he preheated a skillet. “He gave me a ride home, and I played with the cats for a bit.”
“That’s good,” I said cautiously. Sean had been something of an off-limits topic for most of my friendship with Declan, especially since we started kissing. There was a lot of love on both sides of that father-son bond, but the love was complicated by the contrast between Sean’s sunny optimism and Declan’s more serious demeanor. “I’m glad you had the time with him.”
“Yeah, me too.” Declan exhaled hard, not looking particularly happy about anything, sizzling French toast included.
“What’s wrong?”
“You should eat.” He plated the first slice of French toast for me before adding more to the skillet.
“I will.” Getting increasingly suspicious, I accepted the plate and fork before adding syrup. “But talk to me?” I narrowed my eyes at him as he turned away from the stove. “Did something happen at the movie night or with your dad?”
“Nah. It was good meeting John’s friends. Always good to talk with fans and remember why we ride.”
“Ah.” I aimed for a sympathetic tone. His flat affect made more sense now. “You’re missing racing again.”
“I’m going to Arizona next week.” He delivered the news in more of that matter-of-fact voice.
“Oh.” The bite of fluffy French toast turned to ash in my mouth, and I struggled to swallow.
“Yeah.” Declan passed me a glass of juice.
“The neurologist finally cleared you to race?” I’d known this moment was likely coming, but I’d done an admirable job of tricking myself into thinking otherwise.
“No, but the team wants me to get a second opinion.” Declan quirked his mouth, not a smile, but not upset either. “Some doctor in Arizona they’ve lined up. The team needs answers for the season in a hurry.”
“That makes sense.” I used a professional, pragmatic tone. “Second opinions can be good.”
Declan made a rude noise. “Take off your nurse uniform and tell me what you really think.”
What I thought was that my soul was shattering and my heart would never recover from him leaving, but I couldn’t let him see that.
“I think TBIs are always subjective. And as we’ve seen in various sports, rushing someone back is risky.”
“You still sound like you’re in medical professional mode.” Declan glared at me, leaning across the island. “Talk to me like my boyfriend.”
“Oh?” Blinking, I coughed enough that he shoved my juice at me again. “Is that what I am?”
“Well, you’re not not my boyfriend, and friend really doesn’t fit how often we’re in bed together.” Declan shrugged like this stunning announcement was simply a matter of logic.
“Sometimes we’re only reading in bed. It’s not always sex.” I had zero clue as to what point I was trying to prove.
“You’re my best friend, okay?” Declan tilted his head as if he were as confused by my reply as I was. “That better? And yeah, it’s a secret thing, but that doesn’t make you not my boyfriend.”
“Fair enough.” The brief moment when my heart had thrilled with his casual use of boyfriend evaporated as soon as he said secret. However, the sting of that reminder was necessary. Secret was all this could ever be for him. No amount of sweet midnight food making, reading in bed, puzzle solving, or best friend acting could change that. The bitterness of that realization loosened my tongue. “And okay, as your best friend recently promoted to boyfriend, I hate the idea of the team medically clearing you before you’re ready. And I really, really don’t like the possibility of them minimizing the risk of future concussions. I’m sure the team cares about you, but they also care about winning. Your long-term health may not be their top priority.”
“I get all that.” Declan nodded solemnly. If anything, he seemed calmer, like he’d been anticipating my objections.
“But you’re still going.”
“Yeah. I gotta see what they say.” Another blasted shrug. He’d both wanted and needed my genuine reaction, but it apparently made no difference. “And I owe it to the team to at least show up and have the discussion. The season’s about to start. They need answers I don’t have.”