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And me? I stared out the window as we left Colorado behind and tried not to cry. All the little knots I’d wrapped around my heart over three years were beginning to fray. One look, one reunion, one kiss. That was all it’d taken for Killian Donovan Byrne to come back into my life and wreck me all over again.
Chapter 21
Killian
Istill can’t believe you fucking cuddled Roan all night,” Declan said—for the third time, might I fucking add. I groaned and threw an arm over my head. He made it sound like it was intentional, but it wasn’t. Pissed off at fucking everything, I’d taken my anti-anxiety pill. While the medication worked great, it worked a little too well considering. I’d been dead to the world when Nolan came in. I’d been dead to the world when Sam’s wolf came in with Axel in tow. And I’d been fucking dead to the world when Roan in all his drunk-ass glory put himself to bed in my bed.
“I didn’t fucking cuddle him,” I growled.
“Yeah, but did Roan mean to cuddle you?” Raven asked. I peeked out from under my arm to see her staring at me, head cocked. The judgment on her face.
The three of us were in Beatrice Stone’s tattoo shop, Stone Gallery, waiting for Bea to come out from the back. While I was no stranger to being in one of Bea’s tattoo chairs, this time, I used it as a bed. We were there because Declan wanted a tattoo—a surprising fact, considering how fucking hard we’d worked to get him to do the Byrne tattoo. I needed out of the clubhouse chaos.
Really, I just needed away from all the drinking for a bit. My limits were being tested, and I refused to relapse over the fucking Fall Games. I hauled ass to an early AA meeting to help and planned to avoid the clubhouse for a good portion of the day, even if it meant playing third wheel to my brother and his fiancé. Fourth wheel? Did I come before Holly in this equation?
“No.”
“I think yes.” She hummed a little sound before returning to her sketchpad.
“Why are women allowed to cuddle and men aren’t?” I demanded instead. Jesus fuck, why was I going down this road? There was nothing to win here.
“I think men should be allowed to cuddle,” she replied. “But he smacked your ass and called it his, you smacked his balls and asked him who owns who, and now cuddling. Combined that becomes questionably adorable relationship behavior.”
I scowled, Raven shrugged, Declan laughed.
“For the record,” I began loudly, “I didn’t know he came in! I didn’t know any of them came in! And Jesus fuck, who let Sam as a wolf in the clubhouse?”
“That’s pretty normal these days,” he commented quietly, giving me pause from my rant. Wait, really? Sam had always been a little feral at heart. It wasn’t uncommon for him to take a few days off here and there to disappear into the woods.
“More than he used to?”
“Significantly.” Fuck. That wasn’t good.
“How often?”
“Any time he’s not working at this point,” Declan admitted. “It’s gotten worse since we took over the pack. I’m keeping an eye on it.”
“He’s happier the last few days than he’s been in a while,” Raven chimed in. That bothered me. But before I could say anything about it, Bea came breezing back into the room. Watching Bea was like stepping back in time if pinup models were tattooed goddesses. The woman was tall with long legs, creamy skin covered in tattoos, and a style to make even the most renowned pinup models jealous.
“Tired, Killian?” As she passed, she offered me a wink.
“Always,” I replied with a grin. Bea and I had become something of kindred spirits—misunderstood outcasts with issues. She was a wolf, but she was also a witch. Her wolf was rooted in her anger. The less she catered to giving her wolf space, the more at peace she was. But that also meant embracing her witchy side. Unfortunately, magic was misunderstood amongst wolves—a fucking spook for some of us. Good? Bad? Indifferent? Who fucking knew?
Either way, Bea didn’t have a fucking place in the Stone pack even though her siblings ran it. Instead, she did her own thing, and she was goddamn good at it. Instead of being some froo-froo fucking witch, the woman crafted a solid business off of catering to shifters for tattoos that took minutes rather than hours, piercings that healed in hours instead of days, and cultivated a magical jewelry line that worked with shifts.
I cocked my head as I thought about it. Had she done Genevieve’s piercing? Where else had she pierced my wife?
Fuck, fuck, no. I buried my face in the crook of my elbow again. I wasn’t going down that road. I’d jerked off not once but twice to those damn thoughts, and from the way my dick thickened behind my zipper, I’d end up doing so a third fucking time if I didn’t stop those damn thoughts. God, I needed to get laid.
“All right, darlin’,” Bea said. “I sure do appreciate your patience, and you workin’ with me to do your design before y’all got here. I always end up swamped at the Fall Games. I ain’t slept much since it all started up.”
That didn’t surprise me in the least. I bet she was counting down the minutes until we all left for the Ironwoods.
“I’m just glad you managed to squeeze me in,” Declan replied. “I know I emailed you last minute.”
“We appreciate you, Bea,” I chimed in, even though I was just the tagalong.
“Y’all know I’d do anythin’ for you Byrne boys.” She paused in front of Raven, staring down at whatever Raven was working on. “You’ve got some fuckin’ talent there, girl. Hell, I bought two of your paintin’s to hang in the studio.”
