Declan shrugs. “Honestly, I don’t care if we win or not.” Cohen’s brow furrows. “Don’t you want to live in Manhattan?” Declan smiles and cups Cohen’s cheek. Cohen stiffens, but only for a second before he relaxes into Declan’s touch. “I like our life, Cohen. I don’t need more than what we have.” “Oh God,” I say, hand to heart. “That’s so—” “Give us a moment,” Cohen says. “Oh sure, yup.”
