A piece of my hair slips out of the bun on the back of my head, so I set my pizza down and fix it, then glance at Declan, who’s stopped eating and is just watching me quietly with sober eyes.

“What?”

He shakes his head and turns his attention back to his pizza. I feel like I just missed something, but I have no idea what it is.

Finally, after a long ten minutes of silence, I wipe my hands on a napkin and then throw it at Declan, hitting him in his hard head.

“You have a habit of throwing things at me, sugar.”

“What are you thinking?” I ask with a smile.

“That you throw things at me.”

“Before that.”

“Why do women always ask what men are thinking when they don’t speak for a while?”

“Because we want to know,” I reply and sip my beer. “Come on. Spill it.”

He laughs and shakes his head, takes a sip of his own beer, then leans in like he’s going to tell me something really good. “Do you want to know that big secret? The answer to the question every time a woman asks a man what he’s thinking?”

I nod.

“Nothing. He’s not thinking anything, except maybe damn, this pizza is good.”

“You were that quiet because the pizza tastes good?” I tilt my head to the side, not buying it, but he just shrugs good-naturedly and sips his beer.

“Tell me about your tats,” he says, looking at my arm. “They’re amazing.”

“Thanks.” I glance down and look at the ink, thinking of the dozens of hours I sat in Brock’s chair while he worked his magic. “I found a great artist in Denver.”

“Do they mean anything?”

“They all mean something,” I reply and bite my lip. “I’ll tell you about them sometime.”

“But not now.”

“Not now.” I shrug and lean my head back against the post, watching Declan through my lowered lashes. “Are you going to tell me what you were really thinking?”

“Are you going to tell me about your ink?”

I shake my head slowly, and he joins me, moving his head slowly back and forth while watching me with a soft smile on his full lips. The electricity between us is a living entity, crackling and popping. Can’t he feel it too? How could he miss it?

Finally, I stand and gather the empty pizza box and beer bottles and carry them into the house to the garbage. Dec follows me, but he’s a man of few words tonight.

He has something on his mind, but doesn’t trust me enough yet to talk it out. That hurts, just a little, but I understand it too. There’s still plenty I don’t want to talk about with him.

I turn to go back outside, and bump right into a solid six foot four inch wall of muscle.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you there.” I brace my hands on his arms to catch my balance and before I can back away, he reaches out and brushes his thumb over my lower lip.

“You have some pizza sauce here,” he says softly. But he doesn’t just wipe it away. Oh no, that would be too friend-like. Instead, he tucks his fingers under my chin, lifting my gaze a little higher, tilting my lips toward his. He’s leaning into me, and I’d bet all of the tea in China that he’s going to kiss me.

Please, God, kiss the fuck out of me.

His warm fingers are burning my skin, his hazel eyes holding on to mine. I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. When his lips are mere inches from mine, he pulls in a long, deep breath full of regret, and backs away with the exhale.

“You’d better go,” he says softly. I lick my lips and blink rapidly, as if I’m coming out of a trance.

Without a word, I walk past him, but before I can get out of the kitchen, he says, “Callie.”

I glance over my shoulder, cocking a brow.

“Thanks for today.” He smiles softly. His body is still tight with lust, and I want nothing more than to run back to him and fuck him, right there on the kitchen counter. Even if it is just a one-night stand.

Except, that’s not what I want. And that’s all he’d offer me.

Not good enough.

Instead, I nod once and walk out of the room, scoop up my handbag and beeline it to my car.

I don’t take a breath until I’m three blocks away.

“What in the hell just happened?”

Chapter Six

~Declan~

The door closes behind her, and it feels as if all the air in the room went with her. I lean my palms on the counter and drop my head. God, I’m such a fucking idiot. I should have kissed her. I should have boosted her up on the counter, sunk to my knees, and ate her out for about an hour, and then I should have fucked her for the rest of the night.

But what am I doing instead?

I’m missing her.

I sigh deeply as my phone rings in my pocket. I don’t want to talk to anybody. I should go in the music room and close up in there for the night. Playing soothes me.

But when I glance at the phone, it’s my baby sister Gabby.

“Hey, Gabs.”

“Hi Dec. I’m calling to invite you out for dinner on Sunday. We’re inviting the whole family. Y’all haven’t been out in a while, and Ailish is getting so big, and she misses you.”

“She’s an infant,” I reply, but can’t help but smile. “As long as she’s fed and dry, she doesn’t miss anyone.”

“Not true,” she says. “Say you’ll come.”

“I’ll come.”