Chasing Serenity (Seeking Serenity) by Eden Butler Page A

here,” he lowers his shirt then pulls up the hem to show me a smooth gash just below his bellybutton. “Mickey Douglas forgot to ditch his watch during a practice match when I was eighteen. Fecking thing nearly ripped me in half when he lined me up and smashed me as I went for a try-scoring pass.”  The scar is faint, barely noticeable and doesn’t register really as I am distracted by muscles so taut that I can see the lines across his stomach. There is a long trail of black hair below his navel that disappears beneath his belt and I can’t help the wild dip of my stomach as I watch his bare skin.
    “That’s um, yeah.” I swallow against the dryness in my mouth and Declan steps closer, his shirt still raised. Again I feel him watching me, and I don’t realize how close we are standing until he drops his shirt. There is no smile on his face, no condescending little grin that tells me he thinks I’m an idiot.
    I don’t react when Declan reaches for my face or when his hand cups my cheek. The tips of his fingers are smooth, not like the rough callouses on the tops and palms of his hands. I’m about to speak, say something glib, sarcastic, but just then Declan rubs his thumb across my bottom lip, a mimic of what I’d done to him Thursday night on the sidewalk. I can only manage to watch his head lower until his lips are at my ear. When he whispers, his voice is low, a soft rasp that nears a growl and instantly makes my body ache.
    “Like what you see, love?”
    He steps back and the crackle present in the air, the one I’d forced the other night, returns, collects into the stillness of the basement. The seconds stretch, he moves forward, and the only sound I can hear is the low hum of the lights overhead and my own heartbeat thumping in my ears.
    “ Yes ….um, no…it’s not like that.”
      “Liar.” He runs his fingers through my hair, by my ear and I like the way his hand fits perfectly against my skin.
    I ignore the pulse that throbs between my thighs, close my eyes to breathe in and out. When I step away from him, Declan lets his hand smooth down my arm before I walk to the bookshelf. Another box rest precariously on a shelf above my head, but Declan doesn’t give me a chance to grab it. He reaches over me, only this time he stands directly behind me and I feel the heat of his body behind me. One hand stretches to secure the box, the other rests lightly on my hip. I pray he can’t feel how I’m affected by him standing close to me or how I unexpectedly enjoy the warmth his body gives off.  
    “You know, I don’t think standing so close to me is necessary for an apology,” I say, as I bump against him to emphasize my point.
    His laugh is deep, raspy and he lowers his mouth close to my cheek. “Probably not, but a bloke’s got to try to make amends, no?”
    Declan steps aside then sets the box down and we sort through the books. I try to keep my distance, moving my body to the other side of the table. He shakes his head, smiles to himself as I put space between us.
    “I’m not going to bite, McShane.”
    “Yes, well, you seem to take apologies to the extreme.   Except when they’re forced. Can’t have that, now can we?”
    “Oh, I think we can. We can have that plenty.” His accent gets thicker when he’s angry, or, like now when he’s trying to flirt. He sidesteps closer to me and I believe he’s momentarily forgotten about the night we met. Either that or he doesn’t see me as much of a threat.  
    “I don’t think that would be wise.”
    “And why not? Have you already fallen for the nancy captain?”
    “No. It honestly has nothing to do with Tucker.”
    “Ah, still hacked off at me for that kiss?” He moves back and his hand covers his crotch.
    I lift my hands in surrender. “No worries, I’m not going to attack. Besides, I’m over it. I just think you and I would be inappropriate. You’re an undergrad. You can’t be more than twenty, right?’
    “I got started