Cillian

Groceries and booze aren’t the only reason I needed to get out of the house. I had to get away from those curious hazel eyes. Eyes that beg me for something I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to handle.

Delaney.

I’ve always been good at reading people, but I’ve never met anyone like her…like there’s a war going on inside that pretty little head. Pain fighting against hope. Reservation against an untapped wildness.

The woman’s gotten under my skin and I can’t figure out why.

There’s a part of me that wants to protect her, keep her safe – even from myself. Because from the second I laid eyes on her, I haven’t been able to think about anything other than being inside her.

But she’s not the kind of girl that does one-night stands, or at least that’s what I thought before I read the list.

Kiss a stranger.

Sure, that’s innocent enough. But it was number twenty-two that really fucked with my head. Like the list was written by someone else. Someone who could handle what I have to give.

No expectations.

No promises of tomorrow.

No emotions.

I may be an asshole, but I’ve had my own heart crushed enough that I have no intention of inflicting the same pain on someone else. Especially not the sweet little American who carries the weight of the world in those hypnotizing hazel eyes.

“Cillian?”

With my hand on a bottle of Jameson, I glance over my shoulder, cursing under my breath when I see Emer walking towards me, mouth twisted in a frown.

I’ve known the woman since we were kids. Her brother Shane was my best friend, or at least I thought he was before I found out what Owen did. I believed he’d have my back when the shit hit the fan. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

To complicate matters, Emer’s also dating Aiden Callahan, Wild Irish’s drummer, another man I never believed would betray me, until he did.

The four of us—Owen, Aiden, Shane, and myself—started the band ten years ago, when we were still practically kids. We never dreamed we’d have the success we did. But then, a lot of things turned out differently than imagined.

“Hey,” I grumble, regretting not driving the extra twenty minutes to the next town to do my shopping.

Emer gives me a small smile, her expression filled with concern and a million questions that I don’t want to answer. “Yer back?”

“For now.” I place the bottle of Jameson in my trolley, then as a second thought grab another one.

“Have ye called Shane or Aiden? They’ve been worried sick about ye. We all have.”

I grunt, pushing the trolley forward.

She follows me. “I know it’s none of my business, but yer brother–”

“Yer right.” I turn to her. “It isn’t yer business.” I drag my hand through my hair and let out a low breath. “I’ve had a shitty day and I don’t want to make it any shittier by arguing with ye about stuff ye don’t understand.”

Her expression changes from one of concern to irritation. She’s a tiny thing, barely comes up to my shoulders, but the way she crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes at me is intimidating.

She may be two years younger than Shane and I, but she’s never had any problem putting us in our place when she thought we deserved it.

“I knew ye were stubborn, Cillian, but I didn’t take ye for an idiot.”

“So now I’m an idiot for believing what my eyes saw.”

“He didn’t–”

“I’ve heard the lies from his mouth. I don’t need them repeated from yours.”

She shakes her head and mutters something under her breath.

“Leave it alone, Emer. This isn’t your fight.”

“It is. Because I care about ye both.” She places her hand on my arm. “Ye should see him. He’s a mess. It’s killing him to think that he’s lost you.”

“He should have thought about that before he fucked my girlfriend.”

She cringes and drops her hand. Immediately, I regret my harsh tone. The woman has never been anything but good to me.

“I know yer just trying to help.” I rough my hand over my beard.

A sad smile plays on her lips. “Come over to the house. I’ll make ye a bite to eat. Aiden will be home soon–”

“I can’t.” I put my hand up to stop her protests. “And before ye start into me, I’ve got a good reason.”

“Fine.” I can tell she doesn’t believe me, but at least her smile has returned. “Come by soon.”

“I will.”

“That’s a promise then?” She points a finger at me, brows raised.

I nod, which seems to satisfy her.

Exhaling heavily as I watch her walk away, I know I’ll have to live up to the promise. But I knew when I decided to come home that I’d have to see the guys again – even Owen. I was just hoping to put it off as long as possible.

I manage to get out of the store without anyone else recognizing me. Or if they do, they know better than to approach.

The sky is a deep purple by the time I get back to the house. It’s quiet when I walk in. Delaney isn’t in the kitchen or the living room. I place the groceries on the counter, then walk down the hall towards the bedroom. The bathroom light is off, so it’s the only place she can be.

My chest tightens when I see her.

Spread out on my bed, dark hair draped over her cheek, her eyes are closed. I have no control over the way my body responds to seeing her in my bed. I’m instantly hard.

Leave it alone, my brain warns, urging me to step away from the bedroom. I’m already in too deep by allowing her to stay here. As soon as I made the decision to bring her back to my place, she became my problem.

I shut the door and go back to the kitchen, pouring myself a good shot of whiskey, then slam it back before refilling my glass.

My phone is still on the counter. Four missed calls. Two from Owen, the others from Aiden and Shane.

Fuck. By now, the whole town probably knows I’m back. It won’t be long before those assholes start knocking on my door with their demands.

I drain my glass and refill it again before pulling out the meat and vegetables from the fridge. I keep drinking as I sauté the beef and chop the onions, potatoes, and carrots. I’m nearly halfway through the bottle by the time the stew is simmering on the stove.

Taking my glass and the bottle of whiskey, I lay down on the living room couch, my head already swimming in the warm fog of alcohol.

I close my eyes, allowing my thoughts to drift to the woman in my bed.

If I wasn’t in such a fucked-up place, and I knew she could handle sex with no strings attached, I’d be all over her. There’s no way in hell she’d be sleeping right now. She’d be screaming my name, begging me to fuck her harder and faster.

I’m good at it. Sex. Making women cry out in pleasure. And I know I could fulfill number twenty-two on her list.

Have a mind-blowing orgasm.

And be damned if I don’t want to give it to her.