Down and Out(13)

This sweetness coming from a man who looks so sour is disconcerting. I don’t know what to make of him or how to respond.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
He frowns as he lowers his hand away from my chin. “I’m just doing what anyone in my shoes would do.”
Something close to a scoff bubbles out of me before I can stop it, and I immediately feel like an ungrateful twat. I am thankful for all that Declan’s doing, but he’s putting too much faith in humanity. Anyone else in his shoes would have turned a blind eye.
“Don’t ever feel like you need to hide something like that from me, okay? If you need to do something, do it.”
I give him a stiff nod, still steadfastly avoiding his gaze as he adds, “Unless you’re stealing from me. Then by all means hide it, because I don’t want to know.”
Almost instantly, my awkwardness melts away, and I can’t help the smile curling my lips. Banter, I can do. Intense stares and actually saying what’s on my mind? Not so much.
My smile only grows when I glance up and see him grinning wide with those cute little divots on each side of his mouth. Those dimples are going to get me in trouble, I just know it.
“Deal.” I point to the black lace still clutched in Declan’s hand. “Now can I have my panties back?”
“What?” His eyes go wide as they dart down to the crushed fabric. “Jesus.” He tosses them to me like they’ve burned him.
I’m laughing so hard it hurts. My side cramps as tears blur my vision. He’s nervously wiping his hands along his jeans, looking anywhere but at the underwear I’m holding to my chest. I can’t remember the last time I’ve laughed this hard.
Maybe never. . .
Declan scratches the back of his neck and eases past me. “I’m, uh, gonna make us something to eat. Bathroom’s down the hall if you need to use it.”
My laughter dies as I swipe my thumb along my lower lash line and cross my arms, reestablishing that barrier between us. Sometimes I need that wall like I need the air in my lungs. It’s comforting and familiar. Some kids had security blankets or a favorite stuffed animal. I hid behind a mask of indifference.
“I’m not hungry.” I’m starving, actually, but I don’t want him to do anything else for me. I’m not a charity case and he’s already gone above and beyond. We have to draw boundaries somewhere, and him feeding me sounds like a pretty good one.
Declan’s brows pucker as his face hardens. “I don’t care. You’re too skinny. You’re gonna eat.”
My eyes widen in anger. I open my mouth, about to tell him to shove it, when he holds up his hand and winces, like he knows what barrage of insults await him. “Just do it for my sake, okay? I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I think you’re hungry. Let me see you eat something, and then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”
I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I think you’re hungry.
His words echo through my head and I stand there, wondering why he even cares, when I belatedly realize my confused look could be misconstrued as a glare.
“Please,” he says.
There it is again—that tortured, anguished expression. It tugs at something inside my chest, buried deep and long-forgotten, and I find myself nodding a “yes” to him as I close my mouth and tighten my arms around me.
He turns to leave and a second later, I hear the flick of a switch as the kitchen is inundated with light.
I stare at the haphazard pile of my clean clothes, littering the floor and hanging out of the dark gray machine. With so many knobs and a big digital screen, it looks more like a time travel device than any washing machine I’ve ever seen.
Sighing, I start stuffing my clothes back into the laundry basket. Just as I finish, Declan calls out, “It’s ready.”
Leaving the basket on the floor, I make my way to the dining alcove off the kitchen. Declan’s already seated at the small round table, his elbows resting on the dark, glossy wood as he takes a bite out of his massive sandwich. I glance to the empty chair across from him and the plate before it, piled high with turkey, lettuce, and tomato. My feet freeze.
That can’t be for me. That sandwich is the size of my head.
Declan’s eyes land on me as I pull out my chair. “I didn’t know if you liked mayo, but—” he shrugs “—I figured you could use the calories.”
I roll my eyes, trying not to let on how much that stings. “Sorry my body’s not to your liking.” I’m not blind—I know I’ve lost a good fifteen pounds in the last two months, what with not being able to afford luxuries like food and all. But coming from Declan? Gorgeous, “he’s so perfect I don’t know how he’s not photoshopped” Declan?
Well, his insinuation that I’m somehow not good enough hurts. The last thing you want someone you find attractive to point out is that you’re, well, not.
He’s probably used to girls like Stripperella, with tan, tight curves and tits so big their cups runneth over. I’ve got the chest of a fourteen-year-old boy compared to girls like that.
Declan takes another bite of his sandwich, his gaze level with mine as he chews, then swallows. “I never said I didn’t like it, I said there needs to be more of it.”
Warmth bursts across my face as I drop my eyes to the untouched sandwich before me. God, I’m acting like a stupid ostrich. Just because I can’t see him doesn’t mean he can’t see me and the blush coloring my cheeks.
I pick up my sandwich, frowning as it starts to fall apart. “This isn’t a sandwich, it’s a buffet.”