Friends?

What a load of horse shite. I don’t do friends with women—it’s not my style. Since Anne Larsen gave me my first real kiss when I was 12, girls stopped being merely friends I could hang out with, and they became something else.

Something thrilling. Something that I spent a whole lot of time studying in order to find out what made them tick.

Girls became women, and now, as I sit here in the pub, waiting for Laura to come back with my beer, I wish I had solved the great, big mystery that they are.

Laura is the biggest one yet.

I have to behave myself. I meant it when I said that I try not to break the promises that I make, and I’m not about to start.

Still, I’d wish that fate would stop cock-blocking me. It’s fucking annoying.

“So,” Laura’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “Tell me about yourself, Kristian.”

I bark out a laugh at her direct approach.

“What do you want to know?”

She shrugs as she sits down in front of me.

“The usual, I suppose.”

Small talk was never my strong suit, but I’ll try. For her, I’m pretty sure I’d try anything to crack her armour.

I take a gulp of my draught and clear my throat before I lock my eyes with hers.

“I’m twenty-six, have no siblings, and I came to Scotland to forget someone.”

She raises her eyes at me, probably surprised with my blunt approach.

“I see. But why Scotland?”

Grateful that she doesn’t pry, I shrug.

“I met Alex a couple of years back at a big tattoo festival in Copenhagen, and we’ve kept in touch since then. While I wanted to get away, I need to work. So, I emailed him, asked him for a job, and here I am.”

“Hmm. You live with your aunt?” She sits back in her chair, getting more comfortable. She places her elbow on the armrest and rests her head on a palm. My eyes fall to the small, strange marks on her lower arm, but even though I’m puzzled by them, I don’t ask what they are.

“Yes, though I’ve been thinking about finding some place else to live. It’d be nice to have more privacy.”

“Yeah, I understand. I love living on the farm—so does Ailith—but it’s not always easy. Still…” she shrugs, giving me a small smile, “it’s practical.”

I purse my lips at her. “I can see that.”

An awkward silence falls between us, and we both reach for our drinks at the same time. I grin at Laura, amused by how strange the situation is. When her eyes seem to smile back at me, my gut tightens with want.

“So, what about you?” I lean forward in my seat again. “I’m trying very hard not to overstep any boundaries already, but are you divorced?”

Her smile vanishes right away as shadows swarm in her eyes. She shakes her head at me.

“Widowed.”

I want to bite my tongue.

“I’m sorry.”

She sits up in her seat, avoiding my gaze as she rolls her lower lip between her teeth.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago. When my husband died, we came to live with Mum, and it’s helped us heal. I love the farm.”

Giving her the opening she clearly needs, I nod. “I can see why. Has Wenn always saved horses?”

I can practically feel the tension leave her body as she raises her head again.

“Ever since she met my dad, yes. She helped him a lot, but it was mostly his dream. When he died in a car crash five years ago, she became even more passionate about them.”

Fuck.

“I’m so sorry,” I murmur.

“It was hard for all of us, but we pulled through. We’re survivors. All the Turley’s are.”

I raise my eyes at her.

“That’s our last name,” she explains. “Our line goes a long way back.”

“I love the history of your country,” I start. “All the legends here make fascinating bedtime reading.”

A laugh erupts from her lips, making my stomach dip from the throaty sound. My cock stirs in my jeans, and I grit my teeth.

Shit. Down, boy.

Her laughter dies down, but the smile shining in her eyes has me spellbound.

“Thank you. All the tourists say exactly the same.”

I grimace, a bit annoyed to be compared to everybody else.

“I guess so. Don’t you believe in fairies, then?”

“They’re called nymphs here,” she corrects me. “But no, I don’t. I mean, I understand and respect the past—the folklore is interesting. It’s our heritage and we shouldn’t forget it, but I don’t believe in magic. Maybe it existed centuries ago, but I think it vanished over time.”

My lips turn down in a small frown.

“That’s a shame.”

A serious look enters her eyes.

“I don’t believe in living in the past, Kristian. We should learn from it, true, but the present is all that matters to me.”

I tilt my head at her.

“Don’t you think about the future?”

She shakes her head slowly.

“Nope.”

“Why do I get the feeling we’re not talking about your country anymore?” I ask, puzzled.

She shrugs, a guarded glint in her eyes.

“I don’t know.”

I open my mouth to press her, but the moment is lost as Alex and Trish step up next to us.

“Why don’t we push the tables together and get to know each other better?” Alex says. Laura’s eyes widen as she takes in his bulky frame and bushy beard. I give her a crooked smile.

“Excellent idea,” I murmur.

Laura jumps up from her seat, toppling on her feet for a few seconds.

“Trish, can I speak with you for a minute?” she asks, taking her friend’s hand.

“Sure,” Trish says as Laura squeezes her way between the tables. Her perky arse is in my line of view, and I bite my lip as I close my eyes, suppressing a groan.

“We won’t be long,” Laura says as she pulls Trish behind her.

“No problem,” Alex rumbles. I stand up and turn to watch the women enter the ladies’ room at the other end of the pub.

“Shit,” I whisper.

“What is it?” Alex asks me.

I look at him, frowning.

“Why do I always think that the most guarded women are the most interesting?” I ask, annoyance dripping from my voice.

A booming laugh erupts from his frame, heightening my annoyance.

“I’ve no fucking clue, lad. No clue at all.”

* * *

“Trish, what are you doing with that guy?” I hiss at her when we’re alone in the toilets. “What about Charles?”

She gives me a crooked smile and shrugs.

“Charles and I aren’t serious, remember? Besides, nothing’s going on. I started to chat him up because of his friend—and because I know him.” At my puzzled look, she points at her left side. “He did my dragon tattoo a while back.” She opens her clutch and takes out her lipstick. “Now, his friend, Kristian? He looked at you as if you were some kind of delicious chocolate cake, all covered up in cream and topped with strawberries.”

I cringe at the food analogy.

“Ack. Don’t be silly. Nothing’s going to happen between us.”

I turn to the sink behind me and wash my hands. Our eyes meet in the mirror, and I huff at the scepticism flaring back at me.

“It won’t,” I stress. “We’re just going to be friends.”

She gapes at me.

“Friends? Sweetie, you’re not friends with a man who looks like him. No, you use him for off-the-charts-dirty-holier-than-thou fucking, that’s what.”

I shush her, worried someone will walk in on our conversation.

“No. For one thing, he’s only twenty-six…”

“Even better,” she interrupts.

“And for another, I’m not interested.”

I almost believe the lie coating my words.

The silence seems deafening as Trish glares at me.

“Who are you, and what have you done with my old friend Laura?”

I narrow my eyes at her.

“She died a long time ago, Trish, and she’s not coming back.”

Her eyes soften as she turns to me, and I stiffen a little as she hugs me.

“No, she’s not dead,” she whispers in my ear. My eyes tear up at the loving tone of her voice. “She’s just been hibernating for a while, asleep and safe in a cocoon. But now, it’s time she woke up and began to breathe, live, and grab the world by its balls again.”

I snort at the crass words. Oddly enough, they make it easier to suppress the urge to cry.

“You’re bonkers,” I mumble as she releases me.

She winks at me.

“I know. But guess what?”

Recognition fills me as the familiar words echo in my mind.

“All the best people are,” we whisper together.

I shake my head at her when she leans forward, our foreheads touching briefly. Then I back away from her.

“Even so, I’m not going to start anything up with a man like Kristian. It’s bound to be a complete and utter disaster,” I tell her as we turn back to the mirror.

“If you say so, my dear,” she muses. “But hear me—if that man keeps undressing you with his eyes like he does?”

“He promised he won’t,” I try to reassure her. “Plus, have you looked at him? He’s young, hot, and cute. Whereas I’m old, frumpy, and ugly.”

“You must be blind,” she scoffs. “First of all, you’re absolutely gorgeous—I’d kill for your cheekbones. Secondly, I’m sure he’ll wear you down. Something tells me he’s quite adept at turning ladies’ knickers on fire.”

I don’t have a clever comeback for that one. I know she’s right.

“Okay, let’s go back outside so they don’t think we’ve deserted them.” Trish zips her clutch and gives her reflection a kiss.

“Okay,” I mumble and follow her.

Excitement mingled with trepidation fills me as we leave the ladies’ room. The minute my eyes land on Kristian’s, I swallow hard. His gaze is warm, soft, and I have a feeling this friendship thing between us is going to go down the drain real fast.

Crap.

* * *

I shouldn’t be drinking so much. I really shouldn’t.

But Trish was right. Getting out and about, having a laugh with friends, is just what I needed.

Even so, I should probably go easy on the gin & tonic’s.

“Want another?” Trish asks as she gets up from her seat.

I scowl at her.

“What?” she laughs. “I’m the designated driver, remember?”

The slight buzz in my head does feel very nice.

“Okay, only one more, then.”

Her smile widens as she leaves the rest of us. My attention is caught by Alex whose head follows her all the way up to the bar.

“I like your friend,” Kristian says, and I look back at him. Have his eyes become more blue? When I don’t answer, his lips twitch, and I shake my head at my own foolishness. I blink, trying to come up with something to say so he won’t be able to see how much he’s affecting me. But then he smiles…and I think I’m about to faint.

Oh, lord, the dimples are back again.

Stop, Laura.

“Um, well, yes, she is. Nice, I mean,” I mumble. Cringing at the bad case of word vomit, I look down at my lap.

“So,” Kristian starts, “have you thought any more about your tattoo? Anything you want to change?”

Relieved to find us back on solid ground, I shake my head.

“No, I think it will be perfect. Thank you.”

He nods and jerks his chin at my arms. “Let me see your wrists.”

I frown, nonplussed. “Why?”

“I just want to see which one is best suited for your ink. I know your appointment isn’t until Thursday, but I like to be prepared. Show me, please.”

I can’t really think with all the noise in the pub, and the buzzing in my head seems to be intensifying. But I can’t exactly refuse, either.

“Okay.” I sit forward in my seat and put my hands on the table, palms facing him. He mimics my pose, leaning closer towards me, before he looks down. He reaches for my left hand, and my body tenses up as I feel the touch of his skin on mine. As he caresses my pulse point, I have to swallow, hard, when it skips. His touch is light, gentle, but the calluses on the pads of his fingers tell me that this is a bloke who’s used to work. He doesn’t shy away from it, and that only makes him more appealing in my eyes.

I bite my lower lip as he keeps prodding my wrist, and I feel more lightheaded than I did before.

Focus, Laura. He’s not trying to seduce you.

“Hmm,” Kristian murmurs before he turns his gaze to my right arm. I hold my breath as his fingers poke and prod, running over the faint, vertical scars, but I don’t offer an explanation. His gaze runs all the way up my arm, no doubt seeing all of them—seeing too much—until his eyes stop on mine. The look in them is no longer amused—it’s dark. And intense—oh, gosh, so intense.

I try to breathe, but it’s difficult when he keeps staring so hard at me. It feels as if he’s attempting to bend me to his will, drawing out every one of my secrets, but I remain silent. I have to. He mustn’t know them.

“I think your left wrist is best suited,” he says.

I nod, relieved that he doesn’t ask me any questions.

“Probably,” I squeak. I clear my throat as he finally releases my gaze, only to take my left hand in his. “I’m really looking forward to it,” I go on, blabbering like an idiot. “I’m a bit worried about the pain, though.”

His eyes lose some of their intensity when he grins at me.

“Me, too. Looking forward to it, that is. And don’t worry about the pain—if it gets to be too much, I’ll stop.” His voice drops a notch, and my heart speeds up at the low rumble. “You have my word.”

Somehow, I believe him. If I’m not careful, I’ll start believing every single word that comes out of his mouth, and then where will I be?

His fingers keep running over and over my skin in circles, making my tummy erupt with butterflies.

I should move. Move, Laura!

Yet, I can’t. It’s as if the feel of him has me rooted to the spot—as long as he keeps me there, I’m at his mercy.

Okay, definitely time to stop drinking. Even my thoughts don’t make sense anymore.

Kristian leans forward, no longer smiling. His gaze flits down to my mouth, and I wet my lips.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

No. No. No.

“Not a good idea,” I whisper.

His nostrils flare, sending small delicious shock waves straight down to my lady bits.

“Why not?”

“Because if I do, I break a promise I made to myself a long time ago.”

He purses his lips and nods slowly.

“Can’t have that, can we?” he mutters.

I shake my head slowly. The look in his eyes turns to disappointment, making me wish I could give in to what my body truly craves, but my mind refuses to yield. Finally, he lets go of my hands, and I breathe a small sigh of relief as he retreats. The tips of his fingers rest a bit longer on my wrist, and my pulse jumps again. He grimaces as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“I don’t know if I can do this friendship thing with you, after all.”

His words fill me with sadness. Why do I always bodge things up like this?

“Why not?” I whisper.

“Because everything you say…” he stops, seeming to gather his thoughts. As his tongue peeks out between his full lips, wetting them, it becomes difficult to breathe again. “Because everything you say seems to put me under a spell. The more you talk, the more I want to know who you are. The more I learn, the more I want…more.”

I swallow the lump in my throat.

“I’m sorry, don’t listen to me. I’m slightly tipsy, and everybody knows not to take anyone seriously when they’re drunk.”

The shutters fall over his eyes, and I hold my breath again, wondering if he’s going to leave.

All of a sudden, Trish bumps into his chair, and the heavy tension in the air drains away.

“Oh, my gosh, this place is packed,” she laughs as she sits down. She places my drink in front of me, but I don’t have a taste for it anymore. She puts a beer in front of Kristian who’s staring at Alex now. I frown at their silent conversation, wondering what’s going on. It’s as if a whole bunch of words are said between them, even though they aren’t talking aloud.

How odd.

Finally, Kristian picks up his beer and stands. I wince at the sound of the chair scraping against the floor. He avoids my eyes as he tips his glass at Trish.

“Ladies, it’s been great hanging out. But now, I must leave you, I’m afraid.”

I slump back in my seat as he only glances at me once. Then he walks up to the bar and starts to talk with the busty barmaid. Irritation at the way she bats her eyes at him—the way he smiles flirtatiously at her—grips my insides, and I feel tense.

“What’s up with him?” Trish mutters.

“He just has a lot on his mind,” Alex answers. The cautious smile he sends my way makes me feel even worse than I already do. Quickly, I take the drink in front of me and gulp it down until there’s nothing left. I hand Trish the empty glass, ignoring her gaping mouth.

“More, please,” I say, wiping a hand over my mouth.

“Are you sure?” Carefully, she looks me over, and I shrug as I smile at her. I hope she can’t tell how fake it is.

“Of course. We’re out to have fun, aren’t we?”

She narrows her eyes at me, but like the stubborn mule that I am, I keep the smile pasted on my lips.

“Don’t worry, lass, I’ll look after you,” Alex smirks at her. When she quirks her eyes at him, he smiles wider, before he turns to me. He takes my empty glass and stands up.

“Fantastic,” I beam at him.

As he leaves, I look around me. So many people. So many who are out having fun with friends. So many who don’t ruin everything, like I do.

Trish leans into my side.

“Laura, what’s going on? Did Kristian say something?”

“I’m fine, I promise,” I interrupt her. I’m starting to feel the unhappiness fading. My tongue is slightly numb, and my nose tingles. Good. The alcohol is working. I feel much more relaxed and carefree than usual.

I place an arm around my best friend’s shoulders and put a sound kiss on her cheek.

“Come on, let’s dance,” I tell her.

She laughs, shaking her head at me.

“Okay, then. Just don’t yell at me in the morning if you have the meanest hangover ever.”

“If I remember correctly,” I slur, “I don’t get hangovers.”

I swat her arm as we both get up from our chairs and turn to the small stage that’s been set up at the other end of the pub. Luckily, I won’t be able to watch Kristian flirting his way into that girl’s knickers while we dance.

I shouldn’t care, I really shouldn’t.

So why do I? It shouldn’t matter.

But it does. Already, it matters way too much.