Page 109 of Trouble
Fuck, what the hellarewe?
My irritation melts into concern, and I find myself reaching for my phone and texting Declan.
Me: You should see our mothers with Mel.
I stare at the screen, heart beating quickly, waiting to see that littledeliveredmessage turn toread. When I’ve watched far longer than is polite while in the presence of other people, I give up and stuff the device into my pocket.
Declan doesn’t text.
With the exception of Olivia and Mel.
Even after all this time, even after all that’s transpired over the last few days, I’m not one of his exceptions.
Why the fuck does that bother me so much?
The moms and Mel have moved on to a new topic when I finally force myself to remain in the present. Unsurprisingly, both women are enthralled by my girl. She entertains them with stories about music tours and other musicians.
By the time we say goodnight and my mom pulls me in for an extra tight hug, the older women have exchanged numbers with Mel and have planned a trip to Boston to watch a game and meet the two of us for dinner.
Tonight was exactly the type of night I’d have wished for if I’d ever thought of being in a committed relationship. Before Mel, I’d never seen myself as the committed type.
Now, though?
Now the idea of hanging out with her and our moms is easy. Incredible. It would have been perfect had my phone not remained dreadfully silent all evening.
I had to hold myself back from checking my messages at least a dozen times.
And when we get in the car and I finally pull it out, only to find Declan still hasn’t responded, anger takes over. For thirty-five years, we’ve been friends. Sure, he had to work today, and maybe disappearing the way he did had nothing to do with Mel and me. But he could have fucking responded to my text. Could have—fuck, I don’t even know. Declan’s never been one to talk. It shouldn’t bother me so much, but the difference between the way he communicates with me and the way he communicates with Mel is hard to ignore. The lack of contact is like a punch to the gut.
Despite how much he does talk to Mel, she didn’t seem upset whenhe said he was busy today. She didn’t check her phone all night long like I wanted to. She always knows exactly what he needs.
And I don’t.
“Cade,” she says, her tone concerned, like maybe it’s not the first time she’s said my name.
I look over at her, our surroundings coming into focus. Shit. I’m parked in Declan’s driveway, and I don’t recall a single moment of the drive.
She nods toward the door. “We going in?”
I shake my head. No. I have zero interest in hurting myself by walking in there and exposing my raw heart to my best friend. “I think I’ll just head back to Boston so I can get some rest before the team flies out tomorrow.”
Mel’s green eyes widen, and she settles back in her seat. “Cade.”
“It’s fine.”
“We should talk to?—”
“We’ve talked enough this weekend. He’s done a lot. Maybe too much,” I add bitterly.
It’s all too much too soon. For him, at least. Me? I’ve wanted Declan for more than twenty years. What I’ve gotten so far is nowhere near enough. We’re moving at a snail’s pace in my mind, but for him…
I drag my hand through my hair. “He kissed me today. Then I asked him to come to my mom’s for dinner, and he said no.” Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I blink at her, willing her to understand what a big deal tonight could have been for us. And how disappointed I am that he wasn’t ready. That he was okay touching me, but that he wasn’t ready for anything more than that. “I need a little space.”
Shoulders falling, Mel squeezes my hand. Though her posture is one of defeat, her expression is understanding. She gets it, and she knows precisely what I need, so she won’t argue. “Okay. I’ll miss you, though.”
I angle over the center console. Fuck, I hate that I have to leave her already. “This changes nothing for me. I’m happy you met my mom. She loved you.”
Mel’s lips curve. “Yeah? I liked her a lot. Both of them. They’re wonderful.”