Declan wants, and he feels as though he's somehow promised Gansey a perfect, pleasurable night with his virginity, but it's more than Declan can deliver. No matter how willing Gansey is to accommodate all of Declan's sharp edges.

He pulls his hand back. "You didn't hurt me, and you didn't do anything wrong."

Moving away from Gansey, Declan fills his glass again and picks a chair a safe distance from the bed. He folds himself into it, one knee bent up and one stretched out in front of him. "But, Christ, have you ever thought about courting a guy before throwing yourself at him?"

That's as close as Declan can get to saying the problem he's having. He doesn't believe Gansey's sincere about this. He's certain that Gansey will regret it--regret him--and he can't quite bring himself to take Gansey's word to the contrary. Even when he'd tried, the more frightening problem had been the idea of being truthful about his wants. Being vulnerable to someone who was going to regret him in the morning. The thought was agonizing.

"No need to put that shirt back on, though. May as well let me enjoy the view."