Page 22 of See You Maybe

“It was lighting up constantly, so I answered them.” He shrugged. “I thought you’d rather sleep than have them banging on your door at daybreak.”

“You answered them? As me?” She gaped at him.

His eyes dipped to where her towel was slipping, and she tightened her hold but stayed silent.

“You really should have a password on it.”

Olivia scanned through the texts, groaning inwardly.

“Where are you?”

“Where did you go?”

“Are you okay?”

“Are you coming with us?”

It was the return text purporting to be her that made her want to shrivel with embarrassment.

“I ran into a good Samaritan who helped me back to the hotel, but I need to sleep off the gallon of booze I drank. See you back home.” Olivia read the text aloud while he sipped his coffee, clearly unrepentant.

“It wasn’t a lie.” Declan regarded her steadily.

To her surprise, she found her outrage at his audacity waging war with her amusement and so settled for rolling her eyes. She quickly regretted the movement when her headache throbbed.

“You know what you need?” Declan didn’t wait for her to answer. “A traditional fry-up. It’s a guaranteed cure after a night out with the lads.”

“Guaranteed by whom?”

“Generations of Irishmen,” Declan deadpanned, and she couldn’t help a small smile.

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to drop back into her pillows.

“As a non-native, I’m not sure that’s going to work. I think I need the tried-and-true American remedy of a sports drink and a handful of ibuprofen.”

The bed bounced a little as he moved his feet, and when she opened her eyes, he had a sports drink in one hand and two small pills in his other open palm extended toward her.

She snatched up both. “Are you some kind of Irish angel?”

He huffed a laugh but didn’t answer. Olivia swallowed the pills and gulped half the drink before looking at him again. “I don’t suppose you rescheduled my flight, too?”

Declan shook his head with a smile. “I thought I’d let you handle that. You know… if you could walk today.”

“I’ll live.” Olivia leaned back against the pillow. “I’m just tired.”

“Why don’t you go back to sleep?”

Her lids were heavy, but she fought against it. “Will you stay?”

An electric current charged the air around them, and Olivia didn’t dare open her eyes again. She couldn’t believe she’d just asked that. She didn’t even know him. But the thought of him disappearing made her sad.

Something pulsed in the surrounding air as Olivia hardly dared to breathe. She heard a rustling, and when she peeked between her lashes, she saw Declan shedding his jeans. Though to her disappointment, he kept his massive chest hidden beneath the long-sleeved shirt. “Nowhere else I’d rather be, Petal.”

Olivia rolled to her side, facing away from him as he climbed into bed behind her.

He pushed her hair over her shoulder out of his face. And she would have sworn she heard him say something about ‘a bleedin’ saint,’ but she was already half-asleep again, pulled under by the heat of his body next to her and an inexplicable feeling of contentment.

The sunlight, bright through a gap in the curtains when she opened her eyes again, told Olivia it was at least mid-day if not later. A large hand cupped her breast where her towel had slipped, and she could feel soft snores against her neck. Her body tingled, and heat pooled in her belly. But as much as she wanted to arch into his palm, her bladder made itself known, and Olivia slowly slipped from the bed.