we find an intersection with a light that has a taxi about to pass. Deklan waves it down, opens the door for me and gently pushes me inside. After telling the driver his hotel name he sits back, slouching in the seat, and alternates between watching me and looking out the window. His arm rests on the door, with his fingers rubbing his bottom lip in thought.
I think about my emotional state and how he has a damp spot on his black shirt. I know my face is red and splotchy and my nose is stuffed. By the time we pull up to his hotel, I can feel my eyes swelling. It's a beautiful hotel, but out of the city. Probably so fans don’t find them. Deklan opens the door, then holds a hand out for me. I take it, but he doesn’t let go when I’m out of the car. He curls his fingers in mine and leads me to the round elevator, pressing the button for the top floor. It's only about six stories so it doesn’t take that long, but standing in an elevator with my nose still running, sniffling, I shift my feet uncomfortably. Finally the bell dings and he walks down the hall a bit, stopping at a door and taking out an old iron key. Under other circumstances I would laugh, seeing a rock star pull that huge key out of his pocket instead of a card from his wallet.
Once in the room it’s all warm woods, gold coloring, and soft lighting. The shades are pulled almost all the way down so it's a very intimate, cozy setting. While facing the closet he clears his throat, slips out of his leather jacket and hangs it up. His back muscles are shifting and bulging as he moves, and I struggle not to make a noise in my throat at the sight.
“Have a seat, let’s talk this out,” he suggests.
I look from the couch to the chair by the window, wondering where the best place would be.
He shoulders past me and into the bedroom, “In here.”
My eyes move between him and the bed, then back again. He sees the apprehension on my face and rolls his eyes.
“You’ve been walking around in high heels for over an hour, crying your eyes out and you're pregnant. I don’t know shit about that, so just take your shoes off, climb in the bed, lay down and get warm. It'll make me feel better,” Deklan explains.
That's pretty thoughtful of him, actually. He's so gruff looking I’m not expecting him to act like I know Redy would. It's all so strange.
I get into bed laying on my side, tattooed arm out, holding the covers to my chin, then watch him climb on the bed on top of the covers and lay facing me. His eyes roaming down my arm, he reaches out a hand and traces a cloud, a tree, then a wave. Then, resting his hand on top of mine, he curls his big fingers into my small palm. “So whose kid is it?”
I snatch my hand back and yell in his face, “I swear I’m going to punch you in the head, Deklan Thomas!” He’s smiling at me but doesn’t move to stop me. I lower the fist that made its way up when I was yelling, putting it down and deflating on the bed. “Redy would know that,” I tell him in defeat.
Deklan reaches up to rub his eyes. “Christ, I talked to you after your first time.” He puts his hand back down. “But I didn’t know you hooked up on New Year’s.”
“You knew something was up,” I point out.
His eyes squint in thought, “That’s right. You said you did something stupid. Thanks for that. I thought it was hot as fuck, and was mightily disappointed when I woke up to you gone.”
I take a deep breath and gather my thoughts. “Deklan, you didn’t ask my name. I was a hookup. Everything happened so fast, I didn’t even see your face until I was on the bed . I just knew that you danced well and smelled good, and you had that dominant thing that I never knew…” I break off because he’s smiling so big his dimple is showing. I roll my eyes. “Anyway, I didn’t remember the first time, so I thought why not? You are clearly experienced. It seemed like a good idea. Then afterward I went to get my dress from under the
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