Page 148 of Godless Saints

“So. Who would’ve guessed,” Vivi said, tossing a hundred-dollar chip onto the table. “All of us getting along.”

Aleksei gave her a look. She returned it. They were definitely fucking tonight. She was supposed to be my girlfriend. I took another sip. The bubbles prickled against the roof of my mouth. I ended up with the most beautiful Irish menace instead.

Fuck.

I was drunk.

I went through the motions. Declan was dead. However it had happened, Cillian had come back covered in blood. My chest tightened. I glanced at him.

“Hey. Stop trying to read my poker face, cute guy.” Cillian kept his cards hidden. That grin—too sharp. I reached for his thigh anyway, squeezed. Muscle tensed under my palm. His hand covered mine, squeezed back hard enough to hurt. It didn’t mean everything would be okay. But I let myself believe it.

I didn’t even know how long we’d played. Or how much money I lost. Kaelan and Noah slipped out first. Kaelan still chasing his Birdie through fencing halls in my spinning head. I shook my head hard. No. A hand clamped down on my bicep.

“Fuck, he’s a goner.” Cillian’s voice cut through the fog.

Vivi giggled.

Sawyer hauled me upright. “I’ll take him and Vivi back to Aster. Jesus, Hyung. You’re absolutely cooked.”

Aleksei’s hand settled at Vivi’s waist. “She’s coming with me.”

Vivi blinked at him, then spun and threw both arms around me. “Hyun, you’re so beautiful. It’s actually upsetting.”

I hugged her back hard, nearly toppling us both. “You’re more beautiful. Don’t forget brunch.”

Sawyer groaned behind us. “Every fucking time. This is the last time you two are drinking. I swear to God.”

“I’ll take him back.”

“You’re banned from Aster, remember?”

“I was there earlier today.”

“Why am I not surprised.” Sawyer shoved me toward Cillian.

He slung my arm over his shoulder, locked one around my waist.

“Hi,” I breathed, face too close to his.

“Hi, prince.”

Cillian kept one arm around my waist, steering me down the path. I listed sideways. “…and then the cards got blurry and I kept thinking about your hands when you—” I frowned. “Hang on.” I stopped dead. “Wait. Why are you Irish?”

Cillian snorted, voice a little rough at the edges. “What?”

“No, I mean… why this Irish?” I swayed, gesturing vaguely at his face. “Like… all of it. The accent. The fighting. Why that, specifically?”

He laughed low, steadying me as I drifted left toward the trees. “You’re gone, prince.”

“Optics are stupid,” I announced, cheek sliding against his shoulder. “My father would… he'd hate this.” I nodded to myself. “Good.”

Cillian exhaled. “You’re going the wrong way again. Come here.”

He crouched.

“Piggyback. Before you end up in the fountain.” I climbed on without hesitation, arms loose around his neck, cheek pressed to the warm skin beneath his collar. The world finally gave up.

“You're nice to sleep on.”