“A little more conviction. I don’t believe you.”
“I’m sorry!” he says as the other people at the ice cream stand all turn to look now and I see one guy reaching inside his bright pink chinos to pull out his phone. No doubt he’s going to film this and it will probably end up on Twitter in a minute or two.
“It’s okay, Declan,” I say, but I know it’s not. I didn’t like this interruption any more than he did.
Declan pulls the boy in closer to his body, the boy’s back separated from Declan’s chest only by his arm and the fist that he’s got wrapped around the boy’s shirt.
“You bother her, or any woman who’s already spoken for again, and the next time I won’t be putting you down on your feet. You understand me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now get the fuck outta here,” he says extending his arm out tossing the boy forward which sends him into a modified run as his hands come down to the ground as he tries not to fall onto his face from the force.
At least he does make one good decision. He doesn’t turn around to look Declan in the eye as he takes off running in the other direction.
“Why don’t you do that for me when guys bother and whistle at me?” I hear a girl say at a nearby table.
“You see how big that guy is? I’d have to spend a year in the gym to be half his size.”
“Get to lifting then,” the girl says and I can’t help the smile that cracks the corner of my lips as I take Declan’s arm in mine as he sits down next to me.
“He won’t bother you again,” Declan says.
“I know. And neither will any of the guys who just witnessed that. I just hope it doesn’t go viral.”
“Viral? He had an infection?”
I bury my head in his arm and giggle. “It’s a social media term when something spreads quickly like a virus. When there is a piece of content that seemingly everyone sees, especially in a short period of time.”
“Why would anyone see it?”
“That boy was filming you?”
“Who?” Declan asks.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. Who?”
“The one in the pink pants,” I say. I know what’s coming next and I can’t say I’m not going to enjoy it. And I’d never withhold information from Declan, especially when he asks.
He stands up and walks right over to the boy, putting him in the shade of his big frame.
“Phone,” he says.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about man.”
“Give. Me. Your. Phone.”
“Just give it to him J.J.”
“Shut up,” he says and he turns to give an effeminate slap on the arm to one of the girl’s at his bench but before he makes contact Declan catches his arm in mid air.
“Oh!” the girl says. “We’re sorry.”
It’s too late for that.
Declan lifts the boy up off the bench and sticks his hand in his pants himself and yanks out the phone before dropping it right in between them and smashing it underneath his shoe.
“Next time you want to take pictures or videos of someone you make sure you have their permission. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” the boys says just like the first.
Declan looks deep into his eyes and I can hear him growl from all the way over here as the boy’s body wiggles sideways as he cowers.
“And if you think you’re going to get this arm back anytime soon you’re going to apologize to that lady you raised it up to.”
“I’m sorry, Chelsea.”
“It’s okay,” Chelsea, apparently, says.
“Next time when a woman who’s a lot smarter than you, which I’m guessing is most, tells you something you better listen to her. She knows what’s for your own good a lot better than you do.”
The boy nods still not looking at Declan and Declan releases his arm.
Declan turns to walk back toward me and suddenly the other people at the ice cream stand eating area start cheering. I’ve never seen anything like it.
And I’ve never seen him act so possessive and although it was a bit of a scene, I have to say I like it.
I don’t like the way that boy thought he could just talk to me like that and I’m really tired of people filming everything and taking pictures of other people without them knowing. It’s not right and everyone knows it and shouldn’t have to be told.
But when Declan tells someone something, they obviously listen. What other choice do they have when he grabs a hold of them?
None.
Declan sits back down and grabs my waffle cone and dabs it on my nose.
“Hey!” I say. Then he takes a lick. “Yours is sweet, but not as sweet as you.”
“Awww,” I say and give him a hug as he hands me my cone.
I hold my cone in one arm and Declan’s arm in my other.
It’s incredible how quickly he went from brute to teddy bear and it tells me he’s in control. He can turn into the tough guy when need be. And I sure do appreciate that. I don’t go out looking for trouble and I know he doesn't either.
But if someone wants to give him some he sure as heck is gonna step up and give them a whole lot more.
The only question now is how much trouble my dad’s going to give us when he finds out about us.
“Your taking classes all through the winter period and into May, right?”
“Yep,” I say stealing a quick bite of his vanilla ice cream in a cup. “Why do you ask?”
“There’s a break between the end of the spring semester and the start of the summer session, right?”
“Yeah, about two weeks.”
“Perfect,” he says. “Don’t plan anything for that period.”
“Why? Do you have plans for us already?” I ask wondering what he’s up to and anxious to find out.
“I’ve got plans for a lifetime of things for us and even that won’t be all the things I want to do with you because I want to do everything with you,” he says.
Such a teddy bear.
I give him a quick kiss on the cheek, intentionally leaving an ice cream imprint.
“Did you just mark me?” he says.
“You just let everyone else here know I’m yours so I just wanted to do the same…make sure those other girls don’t get any ideas.”
“Other girls? There are other girls here? I only ever noticed you.”
“That deserves another kiss,” I say, and promptly give him one.
“It’s the truth,” he says.
“I know and that’s why the truth is that I love you,” I say.
He turns his body in his seat to face me more directly. “And I love you,” he says.
And our two lips meet greeting me with the taste of my man and ice cream. What could be better?
Not a thing in the world.
CHAPTER 15
Declan
The next day
“Do I have to prove it?” Brandon asks.
“Of course, man. We’ve always played that way,” I say.
There are two ways to play the basketball game H-O-R-S-E. Proving your final shot or not. When you prove it the guy who makes the last shot to win the game has to make it twice, which is very challenging especially if it’s a trick shot.
And Brandon made the last shot, I missed, and now it’s up to him to “prove” his victory.
But no matter who wins on the basketball court today what I really want is a victory when I go to ask him the real question…the real reason we’re doing a male bonding activity today.
And I decided it would be best to shoot baskets somewhere open, in case things get out of hand when I tell him what I have to tell him.
And then I realized it would be better to do it at his house. That way if he gets angry he can just throw me out or ask me to leave. He won’t drive off anywhere angry.
And finally I came to the conclusion that I should let him beat me, but not make it obvious of course. If he wins he’ll be feeling all manly and super
ior and might be more open to what I have to say. Psychology 101 if you ask me, and doctors rely on psychology a lot. Placebo effect, anyone?
“Okay…for…the…win!” Brandon says as he heaves the ball backwards and over his head towards the basket.
“Oh!” he yells. “Nothing but net, bro! Chalk up another victory for the B-dawg!”
“Okay, ‘B-dawg’.” I say smiling at the name he’s suddenly given himself.
“How was that for proving it?”
“That was really good,” I say. “And I’ve got something to prove myself.”
“Well, I hope it’s not on the court because I’m unstoppable today,” he says grabbing the lemon-lime Gatorade he had on the sidewalk for me and tossing it to me before picking up the orange flavored one and guzzling down half the bottle. Big guys need big refreshment.
“It’s not,” I say.
I’m excited to tell him what’s happened in my life, but to be honest a bit nervous to tell him who it’s happening with.
“Then you just might be in luck,” he says.
“Want to grab a seat?”
“Whoa, this sounds serious,” he says.
“Very.”
“Everything okay?”
“Couldn’t be better actually.” I pause. “And that’s what I need to talk to you about.”
“Okay,” he says and I see the look of concern mixed with inquisitive interest on his face as we ease down onto the steps leading up to his house. After I get plopped down I take another drink trying to make my mouth feel not so dry, but it’s not working.
And the cottonmouth I’m experiencing isn’t from the basketball game. These are some of the biggest words of my life, up there right behind telling Bella she’s mine, and I need to get them right.
“I met someone,” I say.
“That’s great!” he says playfully punching me in the arm. “It’s about time.”
“Yeah, I know, huh?”
“Who is she? Do I know her?”
“Well, let’s say I didn’t actually ‘meet someone,’ but that I realized someone I’d known all along was the one for me.”
“A friends to lovers story.” He takes a drink. “But wait. Who do you know who could fit that bill? Let me guess.” He pauses again. “Dude, you’re chained to that office. I have no idea who it could be and I know you don’t see nurse Nancy that way, not to mention she’s married.”
“No, definitely not her. I mean she’s a great woman and all, but she’s married like you said, and there was never chemistry between us. Strictly work related, and she’s a great worker to have on my team.”
“Okay, so let me think,” he says. He stares off into the distance for what seems like an eternity but is probably no more than five seconds. “Man, I’m stumped. You got me.”
“Well, let me start off by saying this is the biggest moment of my life. Up until now it had always been your dad doing for me what he did and that includes both finding me a home and finding me a best friend, in you of course.”
“Awwww man, this girl isn’t making you soft already is she?”
“Not soft, you know me, but more thoughtful and caring…yeah, maybe. She’s so damn special, man. And she’s perfect for me.”
“Wow, you’re really in love. That’s great.”
“Yeah, it’s an incredible feeling. I feel it. She feels it. And I hope you’re going to feel it too.”
His head snaps back and his eyebrow on one side raises. “I’m going to feel it? This is starting to sound weird. You’re not…a swinger or something like that are you?”
“No, no, no. I’m a one-woman kind of guy. You know that.”
“Okay, I thought so, but your words and all this serious talk I had to ask. But man…you’re really making me wait. You’ve built up the anticipation enough. Who are we talking about here?”
“We’re talking about the most beautiful and perfect woman who’s been right under my nose this entire time, but I was never smart enough to realize it. Or maybe it was because she was still coming into her own…but now…now she owns my heart.”
I pause and Brandon says nothing. I can see in his eyes he’s completely clueless. Well, not anymore.
“Bella,” I say and it just hangs there in the air.
“We don’t know any Bellas,” he says. “I mean except…. Wait a second?”
I nod.
“You’re fucking with me?”
I shake my head.
“This better be a joke,” he says.
I shake my head again.
He stands quickly slamming the bottle of Gatorade on the concrete coloring the area orange and then he cocks back and heaves the basketball right at my face, but luckily I bring up one hand in time and block it.
“Get the fuck outta here,” he says. “What an asshole. Out!” he yells.
“Brandon,” I say as I stand up.
“Out!”
I make my way to the car, which I intentionally parked down the block a bit, but I make sure to keep an eye over my shoulder just in case he fully loses it, but luckily he doesn’t.
But I have lost something that’s been more valuable than anything in my life up until making Bella mine.
His friendship.
And even with a long history I know that once that is lost, that trust and that ability to always call each other our best friend and to mean it, that there’s no getting it back.
But back is not where I plan on looking right now. I’m forward thinking and I’m going forward with my plans for Bella and I regardless of what her father thinks about it.
That’s how much she means to me.
Everything.
Because without her I have nothing.
CHAPTER 16
Bella
Three days later
I lie in my bed my eyes staring at the Biology 101 book on the table. I should be studying. I could even be getting help from him.
But instead?
Nothing.
Because of my dad.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and look at the picture of the two of us from the ice cream shop. We both have ice cream on our noses and we look so perfect together, so happy, so right.
But my dad doesn’t think so.
Declan’s been in close contact even though my dad’s kept the Wi-Fi off at the house most of the day. He promises from afar that everything’s going to be okay really soon. He says he’ll even come get me whenever I’m ready, but I tell him I just can’t turn my back on my family just yet. I will go to Declan, soon, but I just want my dad to see what I see and to not stand in the way of my happiness…in the way of us.
I don’t want my last memory of walking out of my house and down the sidewalk, the same house and sidewalk I walked all these years when I waited for the school bus, to be such a bad one.
I want to leave here on good terms, but part of me isn’t even sure that’s possible.
It’s the middle of the day yet I have all the blinds pulled and all of the lights out but one. Just the light on the table next to my bed, so I don’t fall asleep and so I can look at our picture so closely that I’ve memorized everything about it down to the actual computer color code, or Pantone color as it’s known, of his eyes.
They’re so beautiful and to know I’m part of the reason that I make them sparkle, even just a little bit, brings tears to my own eyes.
I’ve been crying so much lately and I’ve had enough.
I get up out of bed and go to the shower. I’m going to clean myself up and then pack my things.
And then I’m gone for good.
I came in-between my dad and his best friend and it feels terrible, but nothing feels worse than this…this not having him.
And I’ve endured it three long days and I can’t take it anymore.
I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t do anything without him right now.
I flip the handle and the water comes down from the showerhead.
I slowly take off my clothes realiz
ing how much extra room inside of them I suddenly have. I guess that’s what not eating does to you.
Doctor December: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 71) Page 6