The Start of Time

Chapter 32

Waking up the next morning still feels something like a dream. Or maybe one of those cute, yet slightly raunchy, romance novels you hide from the person beside you on an airplane.

Well, except the extremely non-seductive way that Declan is huffing right next to my ear. He looks so much younger when he's asleep. Those piercing green eyes and chiseled jawline replaced by long lashes resting above soft rosy cheeks and perfectly parted lips.

It takes me back to the very first time that I woke up next to him. The day my life changed for worse and better. The day I figured out that I could count on Declan no matter what. The day he kissed me. The day I knew everything between us would never be the same.

The beginning of it all.

I never would have dreamed about waking up next to him as often as I want. Even as he sleeps with his mouth slightly agape, breathing on me like a dragon, he's still my beautifully flawed human being. My best friend. My person.

By absolutely no means am I agreeing with the paranoid haters, but I can see why some people don't trust the whole girl/guy best friends ordeal. It can create a very grey area, whether someone catches feelings or not.

Or like me, it can also leave you in some deep, deep shit.

I mean, all I have to do is look at his annoyingly handsome face, and I'm smiling like a little kid at Disney World.

He's torn down the wall, beat down the forces, and infiltrated the throne room. I feel like I should hit the panic button, but he's somehow guarding that, too.

Declan doesn't budge when I pry myself from his grip, swinging my legs over the bed, finally giving in to the bladder screaming at me. I throw my hair up and turn on the hot water, finally gathering the courage to examine the damage last night did to my makeup that I should have taken off.

I make sure to thank God for waterproof mascara and fancy setting spray as I wipe off the only slightly wrecked makeup before the steam fogs up the mirror, soft melodies flowing through my lips as I step under the shower head.

Sometimes, it's the simple things in life, like Sundays and showers.

Warm drops splash onto my skin, rolling down to the floor as slowly as soft melodies flow through my lips. My own rendition of timeless top hits with a little classic Justin Bieber and Foreigner here and there becomes the soundtrack to today's Sunday shower tunes.

My entire body jumps, nearly slipping to the shower floor until Declan steps in behind me and relief floods my overly sensitive, idiotic mind.

"Don't stop on my account." His arms snake around my waist, pulling me back against him, peppering me with soft kisses that tickle the nape of my neck. "I thought you didn't sing anymore."

"I guess now I do." His lips curve into a smile against my shoulder blade. "How long were you standing there?"

His grip tightens as I try to writhe around to face him. "Just long enough for you to become my new favorite singer."

"Don't flatter me. My head might grow to the size of yours." I laugh, intertwining my fingers with his and placing a soft kiss on his thumb.

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"You were sleeping so peacefully. I didn't want to disturb you."

"If there's a chance to see you wet and naked, you should always wake me up."

Geez, he works fast. I can feel him pressing against my ass. When he said wake him up, he really meant wake up him.

"I see that." I tease, finally able to turn around and face him.