“I didn’t want to figure it out the next morning.”

“Maybe I needed a little space too,” he replies softly.

“Why did you need space?” I ask, but he just shakes his head and shrugs, as if he can’t figure it out himself. “Do I look like an idiot to you, Declan?”

“No, you look like the rest of my life.”

I stop and simply stare at him, all of the mad leaving my body. It’s replaced with nothing but hope and so much love for this infuriating, frustrating man.

“I needed to hear that,” I whisper, my eyes glued to his gorgeous face.

“What else do you need?” he asks. I frown, not understanding where he’s going with this. “What do you need from me? What do you need in life?”

“I need you to talk to me,” I reply without even thinking. “I need affection, and I need you to support me when I’ve had a bad night at work.”

“That’s a good start,” he says, his voice tender. “Go on.”

I begin to pace as I think about the question. “I need my business to be a success, and I need to renovate houses because it makes me happy.”

“And you’re fucking good at it,” he adds, but I’m on a roll.

“I need you to communicate with me. If you’re having a bad day, or if you’re just busy, or whatever’s happening, just let me know so I don’t do the girl thing and over-think it, making it into more than it is.”

“I’ve learned that lesson, sugar,” he says with a smile. “What else?”

“I need to feel like I belong somewhere,” I say quietly. “I don’t think I ever have before you. I feel like I belong with you.”

“Because you do,” he murmurs.

“What do you need?” I ask.

“It doesn’t matter; you’re the one who matters,” he replies.

“Fuck that,” I bark, suddenly frustrated. “I’m not the only one in this relationship, Declan. Don’t throw that macho bullshit at me. What do you need?”

He sighs and rubs his fingers over his mouth.

“I need you to talk to me too,” he replies softly. “I need your brutal honesty, always. I need your body against me every day, and I need to be inside you more than I need my next breath.”

“That sounds good to me,” I whisper.

“I need music, Callie. It’s my soul. It’s been my only constant, until you.”

“You’re damn good at it,” I reply, echoing his words. “What else?”

“I need your friendship. Your patience. I need my family, even if they are a pain in my ass most of the time.” He smiles. “I need to protect you, keep you safe. And I know this is going to piss you off a little, but I need to take care of you.”

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I mean, I like taking care of myself because that’s all I’ve ever known, but I’m adjusting my sails, and getting used to you taking care of me.”

“Good.” He sighs, the tension finally leaving his tall, lean body. “I just need you, baby.”

“Who was she?” I ask. I need to know before I run into his arms and never let go.

“My agent. Beth. She asked for a dinner meeting.” He’s looking me right in the eyes, unwavering. “I’ll never lie to you, Callie.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me that, when you cancelled? If you’d said something, I wouldn’t have jumped to horrible conclusions!”

“Because when I’m stressed out, I pull in, I shut down, and Beth stresses me the fuck out.”

“And she’s why you had a shitty week.”

He nods.

“Okay, I need you to not shut me out, Declan. Even when you’re stressed out, just tell me so I know what’s going on.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m learning here. Can you forgive me?”

I nod, swallowing against the tears that want to flood my eyes. I’m relieved and happy, and I feel so stupid for jumping to conclusions when I know in my heart that he would never lie to me.

Declan isn’t a liar.

Finally, he steps to me, so close that I can feel the heat from his body, but he doesn’t touch me. Not yet, and it’s killing me.

“I need you to understand that I will never knowingly disrespect you, Callie. Lying to you, betraying you, is disrespectful, and that’s not the kind of man that I am.”

“I know,” I reply with a whisper. “I know that.”

“You know me. You know me in ways that no one else ever has, or will, and the last few days have been an utter hell.”

“I’m sorry.”

He drags his knuckles down my cheek, and for the first time in a week, I take in a long, deep breath and close my eyes, reveling in his touch.

“Let me start over with you,” he says.

“I don’t want to start over,” I reply. “Everything we’ve had has been so great. We had a bad week, and a communication breakdown, but I don’t want to start it all over again.” I take his hand in mine and kiss it. “I just want you.”

“You have me.”

He wraps his arms around me and holds on tight, hugging me so close, I can’t tell where he ends and I begin. I love being tangled up in him. I’m not ready for him to let go when he kisses my forehead and pulls back, just a few inches, so he can look down into my eyes.

“Come home with me. Lie down with me. I want to talk about nothing with someone who means something.”