Never Been Ready

~Leah~



Still panting from what was probably the best sex of my entire life, I heard Declan let out a curse.

"F*ck!"

Alarm bells started going off in my head, and the insecure Leah —the one many people didn't know about —came to the front of the line and started spouting off a million different reasons for that curse word. Like I had for the majority of my life, I tried to push her back and be rational about it. Most of the time I'd won, but sometimes, insecurity would still win out.

"What's wrong?" I asked, looking up at him.

We were still joined, his head lowered against my shoulder. Then, he leaned on his elbows, rising above me.

"We didn't use a condom, Leah. I'm so sorry...I wasn't thinking. I was careless, thoughtless. I just didn't think."

He gazed down at me then, and he looked so upset. He wasn't angry but wrecked, like he'd failed me.

"Hey, it's okay, Declan. I'm on the pill. I have been ever since I turned sixteen. I take it religiously, and I'm tested every six months. My last test was in October. You?" I asked nervously.

"November —right before I came out. I hadn't been with anyone in a few months, and I haven't slept with anyone else but you since," he answered.

Butterflies took flight in my belly. I wasn't aware I even had butterflies or that they could do that. Declan had given me butterflies. Funny.

"What are you smiling about?" he asked.

"Run out of women in L.A., Hotshot?" I joked.

"No, I just got tired of trying to replace you."

Oh. I sure as shit didn't expect that to come out of his mouth.

"Who the hell are you?" I whispered, tracing my fingers over his unshaven face.

"I'm the same guy I've always been, Leah. I've just decided to be a bit more honest with myself these days. You should try it," he said with a cocky grin.

After several minutes of absolutely stunned silence on my end, I decided to change the subject.

"So, anyway...we are both clean, and I'm on the pill. So, we're fine. Nothing to worry about," I said, throwing a pillow at his head trying to drown out the laughter that was taking over his body. He knew I'd changed the subject on purpose, and he loved throwing me off my game.

"So, we could have been going without condoms this entire time?" he asked, grinning.

"Uh, I guess so."

"Well, shit, Leah! That would have been good to know. I hate condoms."

I giggled, and he pounced, tickling me and making me laugh harder.

"Sorry, it's not a typical conversation for me, like it might be for you, Hotshot!" I joked.

"Oh, it's most definitely not a typical conversation for me. I bag every time without fail."

"First, gross. Second, you've never..." I began to ask, eyes widening. I wondered if I'd just popped Declan's condom cherry.

"No, I mean...when I was with Heather, my college girlfriend, we, uh...didn't. But since then, every single time."

"So, why am I any different?" Right after the words fell out of my mouth, I hated that I'd asked. I really needed to work on the whole think-first-ask-later thing. It would save me so much trouble.

He leaned over, cuddling up next to my side, as he draped his arm over my stomach, making patterns across my flesh with his fingertips.

"Do I really need to answer that?" he said.

Before I could ask him to elaborate, a loud knock came from the door of the trailer.

"Yeah?" Declan called out.

Someone from outside shouted, "Declan, you're needed on set! Five minutes."

"Damn," he said quietly before shouting, "Got it!"

He glanced at me and smirked, his eyes glowing a bright green with those flecks of blue and brown in them. He looked young and carefree, and I silently hoped it was a direct result of me.


At that moment, I knew I was in deeper than I'd realized. F*ck buddies didn't want to make each other happy or be the reason each other woke up in the morning. I felt like I was at a fork in the road with Declan. Our relationship was changing. I could turn left and let our f*ck-buddy status continue, trying to keep him at a distance, until he moved back to L.A., or I could turn right and follow my heart even if it ended up in pieces at the end.

"You okay?" he asked, noticing my far-off look.

"Yep," I said brightly. "You better get dressed, soldier boy. I think they might come in for you next time if you don't get out there soon."

"All right, all right. I probably need to stop by hair and makeup. I'm pretty sure I need a touch-up or two after that," he said with a wink.

I looked him up and down as he hopped off the bed. He was so damn beautiful. He was sculpted like a piece of art, every single arch and curve seemed to be chiseled by masters. His hair was a disheveled mess, which was probably my fault. Yeah, he'd definitely need to get that fixed. The makeup didn't look half bad. It was supposed to make him look rough and dirty, and he still looked like that, but I was no expert.

He quickly redressed, and then he leaned over the bed to place a quick kiss on my lips.

"Rest if you want. We should begin filming again in twenty minutes if you want to watch. We are moving to the open field to the right of the cemetery though. It's the tail end of a battle scene, so a few extras will be on set."

I nodded, and he kissed me again before heading out.

What the hell was happening? Less than two weeks ago, we were simple, easy. We had gotten together, come together, and then gone our separate ways. Wasn't that the way we'd both wanted it? But then, things had begun to change, and I didn't know what to do anymore. This man —this arrogant, cocky man who I called Hotshot —was turning out to be more, and I didn't know if my heart could handle that.

After a while, I finally rose from our little love nest in the trailer. I slipped back into my clothes and returned to the land of the living. Opening the door to the trailer, I was met by the sun. While we were busy making love, the sun had woken up and made its appearance. It was still cold, and the air felt crisp, but the ground was covered in golden leaves. The trees, which were quickly becoming bare, looked beautiful, silver and statuesque against the landscape.

I began my journey toward the open field Declan had mentioned where they were now filming, passing by the cemetery that we had been in earlier. An old grave caught my eye, and I was suddenly mesmerized by the history surrounding me. The cemetery was still used, but this was the original section. The headstones here dated back to the Civil War and some even earlier. Without even thinking, I headed left, weaving my way through the old stones, looking at the names of those so long ago forgotten —mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, and children...so many children lost. It had been a different time when the life expectancy was so low, and children had been cherished in a different way. Mothers had been grateful if their children made it to adulthood. Today, that was something we all took for granted.

When I helped deliver babies each day, the mothers I assisted were always scared but very rarely about whether their child would survive. They were always worried about if they were ready or if they would make a good mother. As soon as a child was dropped into the mother's arms, all those fears melted away when they saw that child for the first time.

Part of me hoped that if given the chance, I would feel the same way, but my life was different. I'd raised myself. My father hadn't been much of a father to begin with, but after my mother had left, he'd retreated into himself, and I had been left on my own from that moment on. Wasn't I missing something because of that? I always feared that if I became a mother and had that moment when my child was placed in my arms for the first time, my baby would know I was a fraud. That tiny bundle would look up at me and know I wasn't capable of taking care of something so precious.

I didn't know how long I'd wandered through the cemetery, but it must have been a long time because before I knew it, I'd ended up in the newer section, finding myself surrounded by new dates rather than old. Just as I was about to turn around to head back, I saw a familiar face coming toward me.

"Hey, I've been looking for you," Declan said, all decked out in Civil War regalia.

He pulled me into a hug, and he smelled like smoke and earth, like he'd been around a campfire. It must have been leftover from his scene they'd just filmed.

"Sorry, I was headed over. Then, I just started wandering and lost track of time," I said, a bit embarrassed.

"No problem. We have a break for lunch. I wanted to see if you wanted food," he said with a smug smile tugging at his lips. "Real food, I promise. Got to keep you fed," he joked.

"I could definitely eat, Hotshot."

I gave him a swat on the ass, which caused him to chuckle. He swung his arm over my shoulder, and we began to make our way back to the set when I stopped dead in my tracks, seeing a headstone to my right that squeezed all the air out of my lungs and nearly dropped me to my knees.

"Leah? Jesus...are you okay?" Declan asked, feeling my knees buckle, as he quickly moved to hold me up.

I couldn't even speak at that moment. I just pointed. His eyes followed my outstretched hand until he found the name that had left me speechless and unable to move from that spot in the cemetery.

"Lilith Jean Morgan," he said out loud, trying to make sense of it all. "Leah, is this your mother?"

"It was. We used to call her Lily," I said softly.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he said, pulling me into a tight hug. "I didn't know she had died."

I stared at the headstone, my eyes unable to pull away from it. "Neither did I."





~Declan~



"I should have stayed with her," I muttered into my beer, thinking no one would hear over the loud chatter of the sports bar we had picked for our guys' night out.

The bar was filled with men, eyes glued to TV screens that were showing a couple different college games. The group next to us, slightly younger, was loud and annoying, and I wanted to drop-kick them the moment we'd sat down.

"What did you say?" Logan asked between swigs of his O'Doul's.

I didn't know how he stomached that shit.

"Nothing...I said nothing. Shit, I don't know. Leah, man...she got all weird today in the cemetery. She found her mother's grave, and she's barely spoken all day."

His eyes widened, and he was quiet for a moment as he looked across the table to Garrett, who had actually managed to pull himself away from his desk for a change. The men exchanged some sort of silent conversation before turning back to me. Colin, apparently, had no idea what silent conversation had gone on between them either because he looked about as confused as I did while he continued to make progress with his Jack and Coke.

"What exactly is going on between you and Leah, Declan?" Garrett asked, giving me a hard look.

I would have gotten up to beat his ass if the look wasn't that of a big brother defending his sister. I appreciated the man for trying to take care of her.

"F*ck, I don't know. It wasn't supposed to get this deep. But now, I can't pull away now. She looked destroyed today. She said she didn't know her mother had passed. How is that possible?" I asked.

"Leah's mother left her and her father when she was seven," Logan said before taking a long draw from his drink. "She hasn't seen or heard from her mother since then."


"Damn it, I knew I shouldn't have left. She said she was fine. She basically pushed me out the door. She smiled and said she was going to call Clare and have a movie night."

Looking at Logan as he flinched, I figured out there was no movie night. I'd been duped.

The noise level of the group next to us rose to an epic level, and my jaw ticked in annoyance. Garrett turned in his seat, probably ready to tell the jackasses to shut the hell up. I kind of liked this kid.

As soon as he turned, one of the guys yelled, "Garrett f*cking Finnegan! How the f*ck are you, man?"

Great, they were friends. I pulled the cap tighter around my head, ducking slightly. So far, being in Richmond hadn't been a big deal. People here didn't expect to see celebrities in a sports bar. Therefore, they didn't look for them. In Hollywood, I could be spotted in two seconds flat. Here, it usually took a while, and if I kept my head down and didn't bring much attention to myself, I could usually get by without anyone noticing. They all knew a movie was being filmed here, but they figured we'd be hanging out in fancy restaurants and snooty clubs, not dive sports bars.

"Hey, Matt. How are you? It's been a while," Garrett responded, clearly not as excited as his friend was about the reunion  .

"Damn straight, dude. Last time I saw you was at our high school graduation. You and Mia were smiling for photos, getting ready to leave for college. Hey, how's she doing by the way?"

Garrett looked ashen as he glanced down at his hands, suddenly very interested in his palms. "I wouldn't know. Never saw her after that day."

"What? Are you f*cking kidding me? You guys were, like, practically already married in high school. You're telling me you let a hot piece of ass like that walk away?"

The last part was slurred, a by-product of the four empty glasses sitting in front of the guy, I was guessing.

Garrett's hands fisted together, and he was on his feet in an instant, towering over the drunken idiot. "Listen, Matt, we were never buddies, so I don't really give a shit what you think. But you are going to drop this. Right. F*cking. Now."

Not bothering to wait for an answer, Garrett stormed out of the bar, leaving Logan and me in stunned silence.

"What the f*ck was that all about?" I asked, hoping Logan could fill me in on all the drama I'd just witnessed. I thought chicks only had nights like these.

"No clue. Absolutely no clue. Clare mentioned he'd dated someone in high school, but the way she made it sound, it was just a typical teenage crush."

"There was nothing typical about that," I said.

"No joke. I better go after him before he punches his hand into a wall or something."

"No, let me. You're too close to the situation. He won't want to be around you, man."

Logan nodded, and I walked out of the bar in search of his brother-in law. I found Garrett around the corner, stalking angrily back and forth in an alleyway.

"Hey," I said cautiously, "you want to talk about it?"

"Nope."

"Fair enough."

We stood in that alleyway for a while as he tried to calm his rage. I hung around, making sure he didn't do anything stupid. I knew what punching a brick wall felt like, having done so after Heather had left me, and it wasn't worth it.

"Can I give you some advice?" Garrett said, breaking the silence.

I nodded, not really sure what kind of advice someone almost ten years younger could possibly give me.

"I've known Leah almost my entire life. She had a rough upbringing. Growing up was no picnic for her. She might seem tough on the outside, but deep inside, she's just as insecure and unstable as the rest of us. She hides it behind sweet talk and offhanded comments, but she just wants what we all do in life."

"And what's that?" I asked.

"To be loved. She gives her whole heart to everything she does and everyone she lets into her world. She's the most selfless person I've ever met. If there is ever anything anyone needs, you can bet your ass, Leah is there, helping. But when she's hurting, she retreats —"

"And says she's fine as she pushes you out the door?" I finished his thought.

"Exactly."

"I've gotta go," I said suddenly, knowing where I needed to be.

"Good answer."





~Leah~



Not even a night with Pretty Woman could budge my gloominess. After an hour of not being able to pay attention, I turned off the TV and stared at a blank spot on the wall instead.

She was dead. My mother was dead. I didn't know how to deal with that news. Did I mourn? Was I supposed to even care? She'd left me when I was seven. Should I care that she'd died over eighteen years ago?

Eighteen years...she'd been gone. My mother had died when I was ten, and I hadn't even known. Someone had obviously had a funeral for her since there was a headstone for her. The headstone almost made me laugh. Did someone think it was some sick joke? Loving mother and a date was all it said. Loving mothers did not walk out on their families. Loving mothers did not leave their children without ever looking back.

Was there something wrong with me? Had she looked at me, all those years ago, and decided I wasn't worth it?

Wetness splattered against my arm as I curled into a tight ball on the sofa, and I reached up, touching my cheek, to realize I was crying.

Great, f*cking great.

The realization of tears apparently signaled more because it was like a dam broke, and I began sobbing uncontrollably. I didn't know why I was crying. For her...for me maybe...for the loss of what could have been if she'd just stayed.

In between my heaving sobs, I heard the front door open, and Declan suddenly appeared, sitting down next to me and pulling me tightly into his arms.

"What are you doing here?" I asked between sobs and really unattractive hiccups.

"What I should have done earlier —stayed with you while you grieved. No one should have to endure pain alone, Leah."

That sent me into another round of tears, hearing him be so kind and gentle. It was a completely different side to the bad boy I'd met months before. There were so many pieces to the Declan puzzle. I didn't know why I was surprised. The Leah puzzle was a masterpiece that required expert-level skill. It was no wonder not a single person had attempted to solve it yet.

I didn't know how long he held me, but he never complained. He just sat there with me curled in his lap like a child while I mourned the loss of a woman I both loved and hated. When I finally quieted down, he carried me to my room and gently laid me on my bed. He removed my slippers and covered me in a blanket.

When he turned to leave, I said, "Please stay with me."

"As you wish," he answered as he turned around with a little smirk.

He went around to the other side of the bed and slipped off his shoes, jeans, and then his shirt before slipping under the sheets.

"Come here, farm boy," I whispered, responding to his earlier The Princess Bride reference.

"See, I was paying attention."

"Yes, you were," I said, wrapping myself around him. I rested my head on his bare chest over the Celtic knot that forever rested there, letting my hair fan out over the lines and curves of his chiseled abdomen.

His warm body against mine relaxed me, but sleep still seemed impossible with all the thoughts running through my head. The same thoughts I'd had earlier raced through my mind.

Before I had time to think it through, I found myself blurting out, "Do you think there is a reason why she left?"

I hadn't thought about the fact that I could have just woken him up, but he turned to me, still awake.


"What do you mean?" he asked.

By now, I'd assumed that big mouths, Logan and Garrett, had filled him in on the gory past of Leah Morgan. The fact that he hadn't run out the door, screaming, was a plus.

"I mean, there has to be a reason. I always assumed it was me. There has to be something wrong with a child to make the mother want to leave. A mother is supposed to love her child no matter what, right? So, why did mine leave?" I felt weak because my voice broke near the end.

He shifted in the bed and turned on the bedside lamp before pulling me to a sitting position.

"Look at me," he said.

I couldn't. I just stared at the paisley pattern of my bedspread, the tears continuing to fall down my cheek.

"Leah, look at me," he demanded, grabbing my chin to bring my eyes level with his. "There is nothing wrong with you. Do you hear me? Nothing. If your mother left, it had nothing to do with you being inadequate. Do you understand?"

I nodded halfheartedly.

His hand left my chin, and then he grabbed the hem of my tank top and pulled it over my head. I looked at him. I was a bit confused. His eyes were shining in the dark, full of determined green light.

"Take off the rest," he instructed.

"But I —"

"Do it, Leah. Please," he said, whispering the last part like a prayer.

I stood at the edge of the bed and removed my pajama pants and panties before turning around to see that Declan had removed the rest of his clothing. Depressed or not, there was nothing better than seeing him like this. I was starting to believe he could heal all my wounds with one touch.

"Come here," he said softly.

I went without hesitation. I kneeled on the bed to meet him in the middle. His hand slipped slowly around my waist, and he bent down to kiss my collarbone, giving me chills.

"Turn around," he whispered.

I did as told, turning in his arms, so my back was pressed against his front. Both still on our knees, he positioned us on the bed, so we were facing the floor-length mirror sitting in the corner of my bedroom. His hands gripped me tighter against his body, and his fingers dug into my hips as his eyes found mine in the reflection.

"Do you know what I see right now?" he whispered.

Unable to speak, I just shook my head.

"Perfection. I see absolute perfection."

My breath faltered as he pulled me down onto his body, filling me completely in one stroke. My head fell back onto his shoulder as I savored the feel of our bodies connecting. As many times as we had come together, every time felt like the first time.

We moved together, slow and without urgency. His hands slid up and palmed my breasts, and our mouths found each other, our tongues mimicking the sensual rhythm our bodies were making. When I felt that familiar tightening in my core, Declan broke our kiss.

"Look in the mirror. I want you to see yourself when you unravel in front of me."

Looking at our joined bodies moving together in the mirror was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen, and it sent me over the edge immediately. My body broke apart in Declan's arms, and he followed behind with his own release. His hands gripped my flesh tightly as he came deep inside me, trembling, while he called out my name.

I sagged against him, looking at our glistening bodies in the reflection of the mirror. He leaned down and kissed my collarbone again.

He whispered in my ear, "See. Perfect."

I nodded, and he held my chin again, bringing my attention back to his handsome features.

"It's time to let this go, Leah. You are so much more than your past."

One last tear trailed down my cheek as we settled back onto the bed, holding each other like before. This beautiful man had told me I was perfect. He hadn't told me he was sorry, and he hadn't blown smoke up my ass, like most people would. He'd held me as I'd cried and told me I was perfection. I was the exact opposite, but hearing his determined words as he'd made love to me had made me feel close to it.

As I drifted off to sleep, the last image I saw was my mother's headstone, and I knew I wasn't going to let anything go until I visited the one man who might be able to give me some answers —my father.