Dirty Sexy Alphas (Twenty Book Box Set) - Hannah Ford Page 0,165

breath caught in my chest and my pulse skyrocketed.

His dark blonde hair was shorter than it used to be, and he was taller now, or maybe just more filled out. His shoulders were broad, his waist narrower, but that may have been because he was wearing clothes that actually fit -- a pair of crisp khakis and a dark blue button-down, the collar loose around his neck. I was used to seeing him in oversized jeans and hoodies, and it was a little strange seeing him here now, dressed like he’d just come from some corporate office job. His face had changed from that of a boy to one of a man, the angles and planes sharpening, his jaw more angular than it had been, his cheeks losing some of their softness so that his cheekbones were more pronounced.

But it was Declan.

He was the same.

Tears filled my eyes and longing and emotion swelled inside of me.

“Olivia?” His voice was deeper than I remembered, but still completely familiar. I tried to get a read on it, to see if I could tell what he was feeling, but I couldn’t tell if he was happy to see me, upset to see me, indifferent?

Then his face broke into a smile, so big and bright and so Declan and then he was laughing and we were hugging for forever and when he finally pulled back he looked at me and shook his head.

“Oh my God,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I’m sorry to just show up like this,” I said. “I don’t … I mean, I should have called, but – “

He rolled his eyes. “Family doesn’t call, Olivia.” He was still holding my hands in his and his eyes were taking me in and he was shaking his head again. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Do I look different?”

“A little, just… more grown up.” Declan smiled again, his hand giving mine a reassuring squeeze. “Come inside.”

His townhouse was cozy and new, filled with oversized furniture and that fresh, breezy smell new houses had, like maybe it had just been freshly painted.

“Sit down,” Declan said, pointing to a round maple table with blue-cushioned chairs that was set up in the eat-in kitchen. “Do you want a drink or something?”

“A drink would be great.”

He opened the refrigerator and peered inside. “Sprite and cranberry?”

“Do you have that?” I asked, grinning. Sprite and cranberry had been our drink, the drink we used to have in our foster home. Our foster dad worked for a huge beverage company, and he would get all the free cranberry juice we wanted. It wasn’t that great on its own, so we’d mix it with Sprite to try and get the soda to last longer.

“Of course,” Declan said, rolling his eyes at me teasingly, like the thought of him not having cranberry and Sprite on hand was preposterous.

He fixed our drinks, then brought the glasses to the table and sat down next to me.

“God, Olivia,” he said. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Me neither.” I took a sip of my drink, rolling the sweet, fizzy liquid over my tongue. I suddenly felt surprisingly calm. This was Declan. Of course he was going to be happy to see me. It had been silly of me to worry.

“So what have you been up to?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. There was faint stubble on his cheeks and a tiny scar on his forehead that I didn’t remember him having. I wondered where he got it and what other parts of his life I’d missed. “Where are you working?”

“Um, I’m in between jobs. I was doing book keeping for this restaurant downtown, but it fell through.” It was a lie, of course, and it slipped off my tongue effortlessly, confusing me.

You couldn’t really call Loose Cannons a restaurant, unless you counted the free buffet they offered while the girls were dancing, and the job didn’t just “fall through.” But none of that was the confusing part. The confusing part was that I was lying to Declan. I never lied to Declan. He was the one person I didn’t have to lie to, the one person who really knew everything I’d gone through.

“What are you up to?” I asked, taking another sip of my drink and immediately turning the conversation back on him.

“I’m working in insurance,” he said sheepishly. “I know, I know, don’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh?”

“Because it’s so boring.”

“Boring is good, Declan,” I said. “We always wanted boring,