Decline (Declan Reede: The Untold Story #1) (8 page)

After drying and dressing in the other outfit I’d packed in my carry-on, I went in search of a coffee and something to eat.

BY THE time I headed for the gate, it’d been almost four hours since I’d seen Alyssa. I’d considered going to the airline desk and asking if there was any chance I could get bumped to the next flight to London. When I was halfway there though, an ache, which had nothing to do with my ribs, invaded my chest. It was possible the next twelve-hour leg would be the catalyst for purging the memories of Alyssa—even if the first half of the journey hadn’t been.

My gaze scanned the waiting passengers until they landed on the one person I wanted to see. Pretending not to notice that she was across from where I wanted to sit, I sauntered over to the row of chairs and took a seat. It was only after I was settled that I risked a glance up and acted as if I’d noticed her for the first time.

“Alyssa.” I nodded and couldn’t help the tiny smirk that twisted my lips as I considered that less than two hours earlier, I’d gotten myself off with thoughts of the first part of our trip. It was like a dirty little secret only I knew, and that was so fucking hot.

When she looked over to me, her eyes were red-rimmed and filled with sorrow. All thoughts of my happy ending were wiped away at the sight. It was clear she’d spent the better part of the time crying.

I frowned. Had she been crying over me? It just didn’t seem likely. I mean, I was a fucking catch, but I doubted she had any tears left to cry for what we’d shared. It was too many years ago to still affect her.

I moved from my position across from her to sit at her side. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head.

“What is it?”

“I just miss—” She risked a quick glance at me and then swallowed heavily. “Home.”

“Haven’t you only just left?”

She shook her head. “I’ve been in Sydney for a week already.”

Holy fuck
! She’d been in Sydney for a week and I hadn’t known. My chest burned at the thought. What would I have done if I had found out? I frowned. Really, the least she could have done was contact me to let me know she was close. We could have had dinner or some shit.

Why would she? It’s not like you have a fantastic track record for answering her calls
.

I frowned and leaned back in the chair.

“There’s just so much going on,” she murmured. “I can’t deal with it.”

“You can talk to me if you want,” I offered.

“Don’t do this, Dec.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t act like you care, when you’ve made it clear you don’t.” She stood and moved away from me.

I sat dumbfounded as I watched her walk away. Did I care? Scarily, the answer might almost have been yes. At very least, I cared much more than I should have.

Deciding that I didn’t really need to buy into her crap, or invade her life, any more than I already had, I stayed where I was and considered what the fuck I’d said which could have tipped her over the edge like that. And what the fuck she’d been crying about.

MORE THAN a little pissed at the way Alyssa had stormed off after I’d offered her my shoulder to cry on, I decided to wait to board. I didn’t want to be stuck sitting next to her for a minute longer than I had to be.

I gladly became the arsehole who waited until his name was called before boarding. Of course by the time I found my new seat, Alyssa was already seated. Her ears were already covered with headphones and she stared unblinkingly at the screen in front of her—even though the in-flight entertainment wasn’t on. The closer I got, the clearer I could see that she was still upset. Tears wet her lashes.

Without a thought, I yanked my bag up to push it into the overhead lockers but the movement was too rapid and sent a jolt of blinding agony through me. I dropped my bag and clutched at my chest. In an instant, Alyssa was standing in front of me with my bag in her hands.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

As if you care
. I clenched my jaw and snatched the bag back from her without a word. Ignoring the renewed pain, I carefully lifted my carry-on and forced it between other bags in the overhead locker. Then, without a further word, I plonked myself down on the seat.

“God you’re such an arse,” she muttered before returning to her seat.

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to have to act like you care,” I retorted with a sneer.

A frustrated growl left her lips, but at least her tears had stopped. She jammed her headphones on again and I thought about how similar the take-off would be to the last one. As the thought ran through my head, a chuckle escaped me.

She glanced in my direction when she heard the laugh, but didn’t say anything. After a minute of silence, she turned to me with a frown. “What’s so funny?”

I shook my head and laughed again.

“Dec.” Her voice was filled with a deadly warning. “Tell me.”

“Just
us
.”

Her confusion grew. “I don’t see anything funny about us.”

“C’mon, Lys.” I laughed. “We’ve barely spent a day together and we’re already doing exactly what we’ve always done.”

“Which is?”

“This. Fighting. Talking. Rinse and repeat. Throw in a kiss for good fucking measure, and it’s a condensed version of our entire relationship.”

She didn’t say anything, but instead turned back to sit in her seat properly, clearly lost in thought.

“Dec, there . . . there’s something I need to tell you,” she said after another beat.

I spun to look at her, and saw that her face was pale. She looked like she was about to hurl. I wondered whether she was getting motion sick, but the last flight hadn’t seemed to have caused her any issues.

Her eyes shifted to the window, she stared out of it for a few seconds as if steeling herself. “I . . .” She met my gaze and her expression fell. The tension in her body released and she slumped like a puppet cut from its strings. “I might be leaving Australia soon.”

“I’ve got news for you. You already have,” I whispered with a chuckle.

She shook her head. “No. I mean for good.”

“Oh.” For reasons unknown to me, that news made my heart plummet to my stomach. “Why?”

She looked away from me, staring out the window as she spoke. “Well, I’ve just finished my last round of exams at uni. Once I do, I’ll have my Honours in Law.”

“What’s that got to do with leaving? You can practise law in Australia, can’t you?”

“I’ve been offered a position with Pembletons. They are the preeminent barristers in London. Well, the world really. They have offices all over.”

I had no air left in my lungs, and I couldn’t draw any in. The ache along my side intensified as I struggled to breathe. I wondered if the cabin had depressurised in the seconds that she’d spoken. No oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling though, so I considered that maybe it was just me.

It couldn’t just be me though. My lungs felt too tight—too sizes too small. And my heart . . . it was aching like it would burst at any second.

My fingers clawed the armrests as I glanced around searching for signs that anyone else was struggling for breath.

Alyssa kept her focus on the window. “They look for the best of the best of the best, and they’ve offered me a position in either their Sydney or London offices. I just have to choose.”

I couldn’t breathe.
Seriously, shouldn’t those oxygen masks fall soon
?

Alyssa kept talking, but I wanted to scream at her to shut up. The most important thing was the fact that the plane was losing air, not her happy fucking plans for the future.

“London seems like the smart choice for the opportunities it will provide. It means a little bit more study but the client base is fantastic.”

My lungs tore painfully with each breath I tried to gasp down. The reason settled over me with a thud as I looked up into Alyssa’s eyes. I didn’t want her to leave.

A wave of nausea washed over me and my body started to shake. How the fuck could
that
be the issue? Why did it matter if Alyssa went to London permanently? I hadn’t spoken to her in almost four years. What difference would distance make to that sort of relationship? Surely having Alyssa be on the other side of the world would make it easier to focus on the racetrack? So why did it feel like she’d just ripped my heart out with her bare hands and was now consuming it while it was still beating in her palm?

“Don’t go,” I whispered as I clutched at her arm. My voice was broken, pleading. “Please.”

She gave no indication that she’d heard me, except to close her eyes for half a second. Then she turned toward me, but stared blankly past me and into the aisle. “Dec—”

My next move shocked even me, but I could only blame the lack of oxygen. My brain was screaming, “No!” even as I moved in toward her. Something compelled me forward though. My lips were on hers in an instant and I felt alive in a way I hadn’t in so long. A tightening sensation washed over my stomach, twisting it in ways which made me almost instantly hard.

She pulled away from me, her eyes were wide, and her mouth opened into a little O.

I was still trying to come to grips with what I’d done when her hand whacked across my cheek. The area heated and burned, but was nothing compared to the pain that ripped through my heart after her action. I put my hand over the spot where she’d just slapped me. Shock filtered through my system and tears sprung to my eyes. It took every ounce of willpower I had to stop them from falling.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice low and even. I didn’t even know what exactly I was apologizing for—the kiss or . . . everything else.

Alyssa sighed and closed her eyes. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have slapped you.” She paused. “God knows you deserved it”—she sighed—“but I still shouldn’t have done it.”

The thing I couldn’t explain to her was that my lips burned more than my cheek. They wanted to taste her once more, to claim her again. Her mouth became a beacon for me, drawing the attention of my gaze.

“When?” I asked after a minute of silence, forcing my eyes to meet hers rather than stare at her lips.

“When what?” she asked. Her voice was quiet and cold. Tired.

“When are you leaving?”

“If I decide to go, it’ll be after graduation, next February.”

“That’s the reason for this trip, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “I’ve got to decide whether the London branch is right for me. That’s why I was in Sydney; I’ve spent the last week in that office.”

“Then how long are you in London for?”

“About the same, I guess. I’m anxious to get home as soon as possible though, especially if I’m going to be moving away for good. There are things I need to get sorted out.”

“Like?”

“Like, none of your goddamn business,” she snapped.

“Sorry.” She’d practically just cast me aside and proved that she had a life that I wasn’t a part of, and it made me want to know more. Moving to London was a far bigger dream than she’d ever had before. Despite how desperate I was for more information, I didn’t want to press her and piss her off.

“No, I’m sorry. It’s hard to explain, but I just don’t think I’m ready to let you into my private life again. Not when you’ll waltz off into whatever party will have you, to throw down with whatever random chick you can find, as soon as this plane lands.”

“I don’t have to,” I said.

She paused, even her breath stopped for a time. “You don’t have to what?” she asked in a quiet voice.

“I don’t have to waltz off to any party. Or throw down with any random chick. All I’ve got going on over there is a key to an apartment. That’s it. I’m free to do anything I like.”

“And?”

I didn’t know how to answer her “And?” but I knew I didn’t want this leg to end like the last one. I didn’t want whatever it was we had developing between us to end so soon. I wanted to extend our time together for as long as I possibly could. “And, well, maybe we can go out to dinner while we’re both in London?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. “You want me to go on a fucking date with you? After everything you’ve done?”

“No,” I said but only to stop her from shutting me down. It was exactly what I was asking. “Not a date. Just two old friends catching up.” Maybe from there, I could figure out some way to get her out of my head.

“I don’t think so, Dec. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to get involved with you again. I—I don’t know if I can.” Her voice was brittle, like the thin ice I was no doubt treading on by even asking for more time with her.

“I understand.” Her words shattered me. I didn’t understand any of my emotions anymore, but I knew pain when it sliced through my heart. I fixed my eyes on the seat in front of me—desperate not to let her see how deep her words had cut. My lip may have quivered as tears pricked my eyes.

“Fine . . . a drink,” Alyssa said and I turned my head toward her. She had her eyes closed and looked pained.

“What?”

“I’ll go out with you for a drink,
one drink
, once we get off the plane. But that’s all. Then I need to be on my way so I can live the life that you left me to.”