Within minutes my body felt like it was suspended in air as he relentlessly teased and licked me. Heat pooled low in my stomach, every muscle tensed in preparation of what I knew I was only seconds from.
“I’m—” I cut off when an image flashed through my mind, too real to ignore for the second it was there. But just as quickly it was gone, and suddenly Declan was kneeling between my thighs and pushing inside me, and pushing me over the edge. “Oh God! Dec!”
My toes curled and body trembled as Declan moved roughly and quickly inside me. Another moan tumbled from my lips.
“Declan Veil, I suggest you get out here this instant!” a very distinct, very frustrated, feminine voice called out from the front of the apartment.
Declan slapped his hand over my mouth to quiet the moan, and we froze in horror for all of two seconds before we scrambled away from each other.
“Crap!” I hissed, and searched the floor for my pants after I got my underwear on. “Crap!”
“Declan!” she called out again.
“Yeah, hold on!” Declan yelled back quickly as he pulled on his shorts. His expression showed every bit of his frustration.
“What is your mother doing here?” I whispered harshly, and covered my bare chest as I looked around for my shirt.
“I gave her a key . . . for emergencies.” Declan said the last two words loud enough that I knew his mom could hear. His shirt hit my arms, and I hurried to catch it before it dropped to the floor. “Just put it on; she’ll come in here if we don’t go out there.”
I put the shirt on as we rushed out of our room, and didn’t realize it was inside out and backward until we were in the hall. Heat flooded my cheeks, and I wanted to crawl into a corner and die when we walked into the living room, and saw Declan’s mom, Linda, holding my shirt and sports bra. Folded.
“I believe you lost this,” she said in her thick drawl. Her wide eyes glanced to Declan, and then she pointed to his shirt on my body. “And I believe you lost that, son.”
“Mom,” Declan said in greeting from where he stood a few feet away from her. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today . . . also wasn’t expecting you to just walk in.”
“Now, is that any way to talk to the woman who spent thirty-seven hours birthing you?” Linda took in a steadying breath as her eyes bounced between the two of us. “I wanted to see what you did with your new place, as any mother would. So why doesn’t someone get me a glass of sweet tea before you start showin’ me around, and we’re gonna pretend like the last few minutes didn’t happen.” But I could tell from the narrowing of her eyes that she wouldn’t forget about what she’d walked in on, what she’d heard—just as we wouldn’t.
“I’ll get it,” I murmured, and hurried into the kitchen to start brewing the tea.
I let loose a shaky breath once I was standing at the counter with my back to both of them, and thanked God for those few minutes to gather myself and clear my mind without Declan or Linda watching me.
Emotions flooded me, threatening to overwhelm me and making it nearly impossible to keep them from my face.
The humiliation of Linda hearing something she shouldn’t have was nothing. Nothing compared to the betrayal that sat low and heavy, and burned white hot in my chest. Because for a second while Declan had devoured me, it had been there. . . .
The feel of buzzed hair beneath my fingertips.
Eyes so dark they looked black.
A wicked smirk.
Hard and soft.
Ten months after only one night with him, and he still managed to invade my mind. My hands shook as I pulled down a few glasses that I’d unpacked not long before, and guilt ate at me as I forced all thoughts of him away.
Present Day
“RORIE!”
I jerked away from the fingers snapping in my face and looked at my best friend. “Yeah?”
“You just completely zoned out . . . again.” Taylor’s tone was full of worry, and I hated hearing it. “Do you want to call it for today?”
I looked around at the mass amounts of construction paper, paint, glitter, and letter and number cutouts piled around the living room, and tried to bring myself out of the past and back to the present of prepping for my new kindergarten class. “No, no. Sorry, I must have been daydreaming.”
“Or just dreaming,” she countered teasingly.
“Not. Anyway, thank you for helping me with this. I’m so behind in getting everything ready for my class. I still can’t believe school is starting a week from tomorrow.”
She waved off my thanks. “That’s what best friends are for. Besides, your life is just . . . it’s just chaotic right now with everything, and Declan’s mom . . .” She trailed off at the mention of Linda, and I groaned. “I’m surprised you have time for anything that doesn’t include trying to stay sane.”
My mouth curved up in a smile. “That’s why I have books. I don’t have to try to stay sane; they keep me that way.”
Taylor straightened and pointed around the living room of my apartment. “Oh sweet girl, bless your heart,” she drawled, imitating Linda. “You just can’t go around decorating with your books instead of putting them on shelves.”
I huffed a soft laugh and stopped working on the sign to defend myself. “I didn’t have money for the shelves I wanted, and I liked the way they looked!”
“Oh sweet girl,” Taylor continued, and then dropped her voice down to a whisper. “Did you know that this furniture doesn’t match? Maybe you should let me pick out some new furniture for the apartment.”
That time I laughed louder. Linda had always been exceedingly opinionated, whether it was about how much time Declan and I spent together, how fast we moved in with each other, the way I decorated, or the way I dressed . . . she had something to say about it. But that was just how Linda was. She had too many opinions about everyone’s lives, and she had no problem saying them.
It had become irritating extremely fast, made more so because of the fact that I took every opinion to heart and usually sided with her since I had wanted my boyfriend’s mother to like me.
“Only you, Taylor,” I said with a laugh. “Only you could make me laugh right now.”
“I’ll never stop making you laugh. Speaking of Lovely Linda, don’t you have—”
A timer went off in the kitchen, and I whipped my head around to look in that direction.
“—family dinner soon?” Taylor finished, and pointed toward the kitchen. “Good thing you remembered that.”
“Oh crap!” I dropped the brush I was holding and scrambled to find my phone. “Crap, crap, crap. Linda’s going to kill me,” I said as I hurried to get up and ran to the kitchen. “Just leave it all here, I’ll work on it when I get back.”
“Why is she going to kill you? You remembered to bake her . . .” She trailed off, and eventually gave up trying to remember the name of the dish. “Whatever thing.”
“Yes, but I’m covered in glitter and paint, and I don’t have time to shower.”
Like it was nothing at all, like this wasn’t a family dinner and this wasn’t Linda we were talking about, Taylor said, “Just tell her you were working a pole or something. I’m sure she’ll understand.”
My face fell as I stared at her from across the rooms. “When you say things like that, it makes me question why we’re best friends.”
“Don’t hate me because you don’t share my genius way of thinking.” She shouldered her bag as she headed toward the front door. “Call me if you aren’t hanging out with Declan and need help this week.”
“Love you.”
“Back!” she called out just before she left.
THIRTY MINUTES LATER I was walking through the doorway into the kitchen to meet up with Declan and his family, and my hands were shaking from holding the dessert that I had made so tightly.
My parent
s and I had always been casual, not superclose, but not distant, either. We were just . . . there. Declan’s family was always in each other’s lives and had Sunday night family dinners—something that was important to Declan, so it was important to me. Which had been the huge deciding factor in living here instead of Raleigh.
The family dinners, for the most part, had always gone as expected. With Linda in the kitchen for hours upon hours, cooking enough to feed an army . . .
This time, however, was different.
Because this time I had a dessert. A dessert Linda had given me the recipe for. A dessert that I’d made three days in a row before today, trying to perfect it.
She’d handed me the recipe when she’d randomly stopped by earlier that week, and said, “It’s time you start learning how to take care of my son. This is an old family recipe, and is very important to the Veil family. If you want to be a part of that family, you best learn how to make this. I’ll be expecting it on Sunday.”
I’d learned.
And now I was guarding it as if it were the most precious thing in the world. As if the dish in my hands were worth millions of dollars, and if I dropped it my world would end. And with Linda expecting the dessert, it just might.
I accepted a hug from Declan’s two older sisters, Holly and Lara, smiled at their husbands as they helped Linda set the food out in the massive kitchen, and murmured a quick hello when Declan’s dad kissed my cheek on his way out of the kitchen to answer his phone.
“Where can I put this, Linda?” I asked as I checked the full counters.
Linda looked at my dessert-filled hands and raised an eyebrow. “Well, what is it, darling girl?”
“It’s . . . it’s the white chocolate bread pudding.”
“Is that what that awful smell is?” she said with a laugh, and looked over at her daughters and their husbands. They didn’t laugh with her. Her wide eyes fell to the dish in my hands again, and she sighed dramatically. “Well, just set it anywhere. Let’s see it.”
I swallowed past the thickness in my throat, and looked around for a moment before finding a space to set it down. I didn’t breathe as she lifted the lid and eyed the dessert like it was going to jump out and eat her.
“Good God,” she drawled, then walked away to grab a spoon. When she came back, she moved the spoon through the dessert as if she were dissecting it, and then finally took a bite. After a moment she made a gagging sound and hurried to a trash can.
My jaw was locked tight by the time she’d spit it out.
I’d never been an angry person, but Linda had been pulling it out of me as she’d slowly shown me over the last weeks what it was like to truly despise someone . . . as she’d gone from my boyfriend’s too-opinionated mom, to the woman who loathed me with every fiber of her being.
The thought of her stressed me out until I had a headache. Talking about her frustrated me to no end, and usually left me shaking. Being in her presence had me in a constant state of fake smiles, clenched teeth, and hot blood pounding through my veins.
I hated who she was turning me into, and I wanted to hate her. Instead I felt sorry for all the reasons that led to her feeling like she needed to do this to me.
“Rorie, what are we going to do with you? Bless your heart, you don’t even know how to bake. Sweet girl, that looked alien.” Linda tossed the used spoon on the counter and walked over to grab a casserole dish from the other side of the kitchen. “Well, it’s a good thing I was prepared.” She placed hers beside mine, and opened it with a wide smile directed at me, and then the other people in the kitchen.
Of course she had made the dessert, too. Of course. Because it couldn’t be that easy with Linda, to just do what she asked. No, I had to go through some form of embarrassment or harassment first. I felt stupid for even trying, and wanted to go scream and vent to Declan. Instead, I simply nodded as I looked at the nearly identical dishes. The only difference was mine had taken a spoon to it.
“We’ll just put this poor thing out of its misery,” she mumbled as she grabbed my dish and walked over to the trash. “You know, Madeline can whip up an amazing bread pudding.”
I rolled my eyes at the mention of Declan’s beloved ex-girlfriend.
I’d heard her name in passing over the months when Declan and I first started dating, but I now couldn’t go a day without being reminded about how perfect Linda thought she was.
“Mom,” Holly, Declan’s oldest sister, began. Her tone was full of frustration, but she didn’t finish as we all watched the dessert slide out of the dish and into the trash.
Declan’s dad, Kurt, walked back in then. “What are we all standing around for? Let’s eat, I’m starved!”
In what looked like an accident, but I knew wasn’t, Linda dropped the dish into the trash on top of the dessert, and clapped her hands as she stepped away. “Yes, let’s! Food is ready and getting cold. Everyone grab a plate.”
I glanced up and caught Declan’s sisters watching me. Both wore matching worried expressions, and Holly mouthed that she was sorry. I smiled at them and tried to shake off the horrible feeling Linda always left me with.
Once everyone was serving themselves, I looked over at Declan’s plate sitting there untouched. I wondered if I was thankful or upset that he hadn’t been there to witness his mom’s hatefulness before my thoughts drifted.
Where are you, Dec?
About the Author
MOLLY MCADAMS grew up in California but now lives in the oh-so-amazing state of Texas with her husband, daughter, and fur babies. Her hobbies include hiking, snowboarding, traveling, and long walks on the beach . . . which roughly translates to being a homebody with her hubby and dishing out movie quotes.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
By Molly McAdams
Show Me How
To the Stars
Trusting Liam
Changing Everything (novella)
Letting Go
Sharing You
Capturing Peace (novella)
Deceiving Lies
Needing Her (novella)
Forgiving Lies
Stealing Harper (novella)
From Ashes
Taking Chances
Coming Soon
I See You
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Excerpt from I See You copyright © 2016 by Molly Jester.
SHOW ME HOW. Copyright © 2016 by Molly Jester. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.
EPub Edition AUGUST 2016 ISBN: 9780062391421
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062391438
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