“Wait, staying with you? As in living with you? In that tiny studio apartment? In the same bed?!”
“Get your mind out of the gutter,” I growl back. “We’re not sleeping in the same bed. Jesus, Maeve.”
“Tell me more about this troubled girl. What’s she like?”
“Just because you’re grown doesn’t mean I can’t give you a noogie next time I see you.”
“Deflection noted. Now answer the question.”
I grind my teeth, but some part of me wants to talk about this. Needs to make sense of the mess in my head.
Who better than my baby sister who, aside from Ronan, has always been my best friend?
“We kissed last night,” I admit. “This morning we went back to acting like it never happened. I don’t know what the fuck any of it means.”
Maeve’s quiet at first, as if best deciding how to approach the topic. “Who kissed who?”
“I don’t know,” I say moodily. “We kissed each other. We both went for it.”
“Okay, but do you like her? I don’t mean as a friend or pal, by the way. ”
“I don’t know,” I answer a third time. “I just told you I don’t know what any of it fucking means.”
She releases a sound of exasperation. I can practically see her rolling her eyes all the way from California.
“Typical. Feelings are like a foreign language to you. Okay, let me ask you this—did youlikekissing her?”
“Yes,” I answer quicker than expected. “But I’ve been cold turkey on women for weeks?—”
“So what?” she interrupts. “Does that mean you’d enjoy kissing any woman off the street?”
My mind goes to the groupies who practically throw themselves at me. The women I’ve got no interest in even shaking the hands of, let alone kissing.
Then it lands on Bridget and how the last time she touched me, I felt nothing. Her tits are nice in the low-cut tops and dresses she wears, but it feels hollow now.
Any interest I had is simply… gone.
It doesn’t make me want more like I do around Jhene. More of her dry quips. More of how her brown eyes sometimes light up behind her too big glasses.
“No,” I admit seconds later.
“Okay then. What else do you like about her?”
“She’s witty. Smart. Modest.” I’m listing things before I can stop myself. Each one comes out so instinctually I don’t even have to think about it. “Hardworking. She’s tougher than she looks. Way tougher. And fucking stubborn—enough to drive me insane. But I respect it. I like that she’s got a backbone.”
“It sounds like there’s a lot you like about this girl,” Maeve says calmly, using the same tone I suspect she does with her clients.
I realize it’s how she works her magic; how she’s able to get them to open up without even realizing it.
Funny it works even on her brother.
“Have you considered asking her out?” she asks. “You know, like a normal person?”
“Never gonna happen.”
“Killian, you have a tendency to avoid things that bring you?—”
“I’ve got more important shit going on,” I interruptgrumpily. “The clan needs me. There’s a war brewing. I don’t have time for silliness.”
