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“Neither have I,” Bronagh admitted softly.

I wanted to throw back my head and yell with triumph.

“So you’ll give us a chance?” I asked, my eyes pleading with her as I held my breath, waiting for her answer.

She closed her eyes, then opened them, her gaze strong and sure.

“Yes, I will.”

Chapter Six ~ Bronagh

It had been a few days since I told Brendan that I was willing to give us a shot, and we were taking it slow.

He’d kept his promise. During school hours, he treated me just as he did any other professor, and I treated him like the student he was. I was thrilled to find out that he was actually very gifted in the kitchen, and was a dream to teach. It made it even harder not to give him preferential treatment, but I was doing my best not to.

I’d picked up a lot of evening shifts, since my da was still on his trip, and our night manager’s daughter had gotten sick, so Brendan and I had mostly been communicating through text.

Tonight, we were finally going to spend some time together, and although I was really excited, I was pretty nervous as well. We hadn’t been intimate since that first night, and I was worried that some of the shine had worn off. I was sure it was just my own insecurities, especially as I stood off to the side of the crowded dance floor, watching the young, hot, scantily clothed girls rush the stage and beg Brendan to touch them.

It was surreal, and more than a little discomforting.

Sure, I’d been here and seen him play, but that was before I knew him … before we were dating. I was beginning to feel like a jealous girlfriend, and I didn’t like the feeling one bit.

With Maxime, I’d never realized I had a reason to be jealous. I’d trusted him one hundred percent, and I’d been a complete fool.

With Brendan, I knew he’d slept with probably hundreds of women, and, shit, even I’d hooked up with him after one of these shows. When faced with the reality of the buffet of women he had available to him at any given time, I was finding it hard to believe he wanted to be with me.

I’d been keeping an eye out for anyone who might be from the school. The bar was far enough away that I was confident that no one that we knew would be there, but I figured a little caution couldn’t hurt. I took a sip o

f my beer, turned my attention from the fans, and looked back at the stage.

He was magnificent. Not just his voice, which was great, but his presence. It was like he’d been born to be on stage. His eyes were closed as he sang, and I felt a tug of desire deep in my belly. Suddenly, he opened them, and his gaze locked on me, causing that tug to become a full-out punch, and I began to feel overwhelmingly needy.

Brendan smiled a cocky grin, as if he could tell exactly what I was thinking, what I was feeling. I gave him a small smile in return, then averted my eyes, unwilling to give him too much. I was afraid if I did, I’d be consumed.

My gaze fell on his oldest brother, Brock, and my smile remained as I watched the tall, bearded man play his guitar, his face a picture of total peace as he ignored the crown in front of him. My heart warmed as I thought of everything he’d sacrificed to ensure his family stayed together, and how hard it must have been for him to have essentially been a child himself when he’d found himself a surrogate father to his brothers.

Feeling emotion thickening in my throat, I turned my attention from Brock to Brady, the middle brother, who was currently banging away on his drums. He was naturally gifted, but he looked uncomfortable as he played, as if he wished he were anywhere but on that stage.

The song ended, and I found myself jostled even farther to the side as the girls pushed and shoved each other to get closer to the attractive men on stage. The brothers descended the stairs, exchanging hugs and claps on the back, before both Brady and Brock left out the back door, rather than coming out into the throng of people.

Brendan stepped forward, into the bar, and was immediately surrounded by greedy, shouting women.

That ugly seed of jealousy grew, even as I tried to bury it within me, but I watched as Brendan kept as smile on his face for his fans and scanned above their heads, searching for me. When he found me, his grin grew and I heard him say, “I’m glad you enjoyed the show, ladies, but I’m afraid I’ve got a hot date,” as he sauntered right to me.

I barely registered the chorus of boos and awws, his pull already taking hold of me.

He didn’t pause when he reached me; instead he came at me full force, pulling me into his arms and fusing his lips to mine. The desire that had been building throughout his performance came to a head, and I met his passion full force, opening my lips and inviting him in for a taste.

Just as we were reaching the point of no return, Brendan pulled back and smiled beautifully down at me, his eyes flashing with the heat I knew he was feeling.

“Let’s get out of here.”

I just nodded, unable to catch my breath enough to speak, and followed close behind as he took my hand and pulled me toward the back rooms of the bar.

“I’ll follow you,” he said once we reached the back parking lot where his bike was waiting.

We’d decided to spend the night at my place this time, so I walked to my car, slid in, and drove the short distance to my house. I pulled in the driveway and waited, the hum of his motorcycle mimicking the thrum of my body as I watched him dismount.

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