Lust Thy Neighbor (25 page)

“Rough night?” Declan asked and took a drink of his coffee, grimacing and releasing a curse when it burned his tongue. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that Beck’s sudden grin was due to his stinging mouth.

“Long night,” Beck corrected and shoved one hand into the pocket of his jeans. “And I could say the same for you,
neighbor
.”

“What?”

“You're not exactly Mr. GQ right now either.” He slid off his aviator sunglasses and folded them on the neck of his tee shirt. Yawning, he gave Declan a condemning look. “Looks like you haven't slept in—oh, I don't know—a couple weeks.”

Was it that obvious that he'd been up most of last night just thinking about her again? That he'd climbed out of bed more than once and had gotten fully dressed, ready to go over to her place and admit he was a fool so they could figure things out and move on with their lives. It must have been evident because there was undisguised pity in her closet friend’s green eyes as he stared back at him from the other side of the welcome mat. Declan rubbed his palm over his face then set his mouth in a hard line. “Look, I've got work to do and it’s freezing, so I don't have time to stand out here chatting about my sleep habits—or lack thereof. What do you need?”

Beck smirked and leaned in closer, resting his forearm on the doorframe. “So, you're admitting you haven't been sleeping. Be honest, you've gotten maybe sixteen hours total since you ended things with her, am I right?”

Was this guy purposely trying to rub sandpaper over a fresh wound?

“Dammit, Beck, what do you want from me?” When the other man regarded him in silence, Declan dragged a hand through his disheveled hair and released a harsh, animalistic sound from the back of his throat. “Did Violet put you up to coming over here to check up on me?”

At the mention of her name, Beck turned his blond head to glance in the direction of her house before returning his focus to Declan. “No, she didn't.” For a moment, he looked sheepish, and Declan quickly guessed that his neighbor had no idea what her friend was up to.

“Where I'm from,” he started, shaking his head, “we call this meddling.”

"I don't care what you call it. Listen, I'm not here to yell at you or start any trouble. I just want you to know that woman—” Beck jabbed his finger toward her house. “—is everything to me. I love her more than most of my own family. And I don't appreciate it when douchebags hurt her—no matter if it's through cheating or because of pride and fear.” He moved his hand off the doorframe and held it up to cut Declan off before he could get a word in. “I don't need to hear your side of the story. To be honest, I don't
want
to hear it. She told me everything last night. Believe it or not, I understood why you were pissed off. You’re only human. You reacted the way anyone else would have. But she’s human too, and she’s entitled to a fuck up. It’s been two weeks now—it’s time for you to get your shit together.”

The other man’s words bothered him, and Declan felt every muscle in his body go taut. “What makes you think I haven't already done that?”

One corner of Beck’s mouth lifted sardonically. “Where I come from, we sleep like babies when our lives aren't crumbling apart.”

“Don’t you think you're lying on the dramatics a little thick?” But he ran his tongue between his teeth. He hated just how accurately Beck had assessed the situation. "You should really learn to mind your own business, Caldwell.”

“Violet Kelly's going to always be my business. If you can't see why that is or how special and incredible
she
is, then you're a goddamn fool. And you're going to regret it." He paused and examined Declan's appearance even closer, zeroing in on the tired brown eyes and shadowed face. "Well, you'll regret it even more.”

With that parting remark, Beck turned around and left.

Declan watched the other man walk down his driveway and get into his blue Mercedes. When the tail lights were no longer visible, he stepped out onto the porch, finished his coffee and just stood there, watching the house next door until his vision blurred and his chest was taut.

Beckett was right. He already regretted losing her—hell, he’d regretted it the moment she left. And he knew he had to fix things before it was too late for her to come back to him.

*

“W
e should have a girl’s night,” was the first thing Alice said when Violet answered her call the next morning. “You know, like we did after—.”

“Mom,” she groaned as she climbed into her car, shivering at how cold it was thanks to the rain. She wanted to kick herself for not starting the ignition earlier. “It's going to be okay.” She knew without a doubt that her mother had just been on the verge of reminding her of the Netflix and Wine binge they had last year following her breakup with Henry.

Alice huffed and Violet heard her taking a drink of something—probably her third or fourth cup of coffee—before she complained, “You’re just telling me that so I won’t worry.”

“I
swear
I'm fine.”

“You know, I’m pretty sure I read in a magazine that the word fine is code for go duck yourself.”

She flexed her cold fingers on the steering wheel and sighed. After autocorrect had altered one of Alice's profanity-laced texts about the traffic in Philadelphia one morning, she'd run with it and the word “duck” had become a dirty part of her conversations with Violet—an inside joke that usually made her laugh. “You didn't read that in a magazine, Mom, because I told you that a couple years ago. I heard it from another teacher, remember? And I really
am
fine. I shouldn't have said anything to you about Declan.”

After her long talk with Beck early yesterday morning, she had called Alice and finally opened up to her about the break up. As she expected, her mother had been surprised and then slightly hurt that it had taken her more than two weeks to say anything. Violet had calmed her down when she admitted that she hadn't wanted to ruin her Christmas vacation, but Alice had spent the last twenty-four hours trying to make up for what she was calling “lost shoulder to cry on time.” 

“We really should do something this weekend,” Alice said, cutting into Violet’s thoughts. “Just in case you happened to
not
be okay by then and need a distraction.”

“Fine.”

“Are you telling me to go duck myself?”

Violet finally laughed at her mother’s joke and shook her head. “Put down the caffeine, it's making you crazy. I meant fine, let’s have our girls night. Bear and I will come your way Friday night and spend the weekend. We’ll drink and eat and watch
Veronica Mars
re-runs. How does that sound?”

“Wouldn't you rather I came there?” Alice asked, her voice hopeful.

“And have you attempting to go next door to offer your relationship advice? No, I think we’ll stick to your place.”

“You know me so well it's kind of scary.”

They spent the next couple minutes making plans for the weekend and when Violet hung up, not only was the inside of her car finally warm she was also smiling. She turned up the volume on the radio to drown out the annoying squeak of the windshield wipers and was startled to hear the same Rudimental and Ed Sheeran song that had been playing the night Declan took her to her grandparents’ party.

Her heart pounding painfully against her rib cage, she sang along as she drove and by the time the song ended, she had made up her mind.

She had to try, even if trying meant failing.

Even if it meant getting hurt. 

As her car slowed to a stop at the intersection, she thought back to her past relationships. And she realized that she'd never really stood up and fought for a relationship when it was on the line. She refused to let things end with Declan so easily.

She wasn't going to let him fool himself into thinking that he could protect his heart by choosing to be alone. They were good together, damn it, and she wanted—no needed—to let him know that before she gave up on them.

Violet felt like her brain was in overdrive as she planned what she was going to say to him. She imagined calling him once she left school that afternoon, asking that he come over to her house tonight so they could talk. And if he didn't come over, she would suck up her pride and just go over to his place. She would do her best to settle things. She would tell him that she loved him.

If that wasn’t enough for him—well, at least she could always say she gave being with him one hundred percent of her effort.

And if they didn't get back together, she wouldn't move this time like she’d done after Henry.

This time, she really would be fine, even if Declan Pierce had stolen her heart.

Her thoughts focused on the uncertainty of the future, she didn't see the other car run the red light. By the time she caught sight of the flash of black paint and chrome accents heading right toward her, she swerved too late. A slick spot of the road slipped against her car's tires, and in the moment when she realized she no longer had control of her car, it felt like time stood still. She could hear the song that played on the radio—she only caught the line “My feet don't touch the floor.” She could hear her breathing. And finally, she could even hear her own heart beating loud in her ears. Strangely, it beat evenly. Not erratic. Just ... calm.

And then that calm was replaced by the sickening crunch of metal.

S
tealing a glance at the clock on the wall, Declan doodled on the corner of his legal pad. He heard what the others were saying in their weekly staff meeting, but his mind was somewhere else. Sixteen days. It had been sixteen days since he watched Violet walk away, making one of the biggest mistakes of his life. Sixteen days that he’d tossed and turned, unable to sleep because she was next door and he wasn’t there with her.

Well, no more, he decided. He’d gone over to her place last night only to discover she wasn’t home, but tonight, he was going to put an end to the mess he had made. After Beck left his house yesterday morning, he'd had plenty of time to think about and sort through his issues. Well,
issue
. Like Beck had pointed out, he’d let fear take the wheel. He’d been scared shitless because if Serena had the ability to hurt him like she did, what would happen with someone like Violet who had cleverly wormed her way into his soul?

He realized he was going to have to get over the fear or get over her, and after so many sleepless nights, he knew the latter wasn’t even an option. He wanted Violet. He would just have to take Beckett Caldwell’s advice and get his shit together.

Jacob would probably be happy, Declan noted with a wry smile. The kid had a stubborn streak that would have made their father proud. He had been giving him the silent treatment for the last two weeks, his allegiance firmly with Violet.

The door to the conference room opened and one of the front desk receptionists poked her head in. "Declan? You have a call on the main line. He says it's important and that you're not picking up your cell or your desk phone."

He frowned, his head popping up from the yellow piece of paper in front of him. "Who is it?"

"He says he's your brother."

A quick glance to his editor—who nodded his head in the direction of the door—sent Declan out of his seat and into the hallway where he made his way to his own desk. He checked his cell phone, seeing that he had accumulated four missed calls from his brother. The voicemail light on his desk phone was blinking red, and his heart caught in his throat as he picked up the phone.

"Jacob?" He barely recognized his voice. “Are you okay?”

"Declan! Where the hell have you been?"

He didn't bother answering. "Are you okay?" he repeated.

"I’m fine...." Declan felt himself relax when he heard his brother mutter those words, and he slid into his chair as Jacob continued, "Where have you been? I've been calling you all morning."

"I’ve been in a staff meeting in the Philadelphia office. You scared the shit out of me, kid! What’s so important that you had to call my cell, desk, and the operator to reach me?”

There was a brief silence. "Dec ... Violet had an accident this morning."

“What?" He barely recognized his own voice because he was suddenly taken back to a couple years ago when his life had tilted on its side after he heard the news of his parents' deaths. Ice pierced his chest at the thought of Violet and death in the same sentence. She was okay. She had to be. “What kind of accident? Jake ... is she okay?”

"I heard it from a guy on swim who has her for first period English. She got into a car accident on her way to school and Principal Holloway had to find someone to fill in."

“Is she
okay
?" His heart thundered violently. For a brief pause, all he heard was the roaring of blood in his ears, but he snapped himself back to the present as he tried to remember where he'd placed his keys when he came to work. “Jacob, please tell me she's fine.”

"I—I don't know." Jacob’s voice shook. "I've been asking around. My science teacher usually has lunch with her and said all she knows is that she hydroplaned. Her car hit a tree and she was rushed to the hospital. I don't know anything else, and I'm scared. I'm really scared, Dec.”

Hearing the panic in his brother’s voice made him get a grip on his own fear. "It'll be okay,” he said as he finally found his keys in the top drawer of his desk.  “I'm leaving now but it'll take me at least a couple hours to get there. I'll call you as soon as I find out....” He dragged in a deep breath. He refused to believe she was anything but alright. “I’ll call you as soon as I see her.”

He dropped everything and left, and as he raced to his truck, he tried to keep his mind off the worst case scenario. He didn't want to think of it. Didn't even want to imagine what he would do if he had to relive his past nightmare all over again—only this time with someone he had imagined spending his life with.

The trip to the hospital seemed like it lasted days instead of an hour and a half. He felt like he hit every traffic jam, every light, and that every slow and shitty driver in the state of Pennsylvania drove right in front of him. He gripped the steering wheel and released a harsh sound. All he wanted was to walk into the hospital and see for himself that Violet wasn't hurt. He knew firsthand how short life could be, and as he turned on the street to the hospital, all he felt was regret. He had let his pride get in the way of happiness. And he was terrified of never being able to right things.