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“I don’t get it. I thought Zayn hated Agatha,” I say, slowly.
“I don’t hate the stupid idiot.” Zayn turns his head from across the room to glare at us. “And if you two want to talk about someone in the same room, at least try to lower your goddamn voice.”
“Language, asshole,” Fergus says, mildly.
Zayn flips him his middle finger before returning his attention to the game.
“As you can see, he clearly misses her.”
I pop a blueberry in my mouth. “But they’re always fighting.”
Fergus slices the tomatoes neatly. “It’s how they show affection for each other. It took us a few years to get used to the two of them. Now, what’s wrong with you? Are you waiting for a call from someone?”
I put my face in my hands as I rest my elbows on the marble island counter that dominates the large kitchen area. “Seth’s insisting that I come to stay with him rather than live in a stranger’s house who can take advantage of me at any minute.”
Fergus purses his lips. “If I recall correctly, you were the one taking advantage of me last night.”
I grin, remembering the silk scarves. “Each day with you is an adventure. I learn some new kink about myself.”
Fergus shakes his head, ruefully. “When we met, I thought you were a sweet and innocent school teacher. All my dreams, shattered.”
“You corrupted me.” I pop another blueberry in my mouth and then stick out my tongue at him to show the purplish color.
He chuckles. “Yes, I did. Very thoroughly.”
“But,” I speak slowly, with a little hesitance. “I don’t think I would ever be this comfortable with another man, not when it comes to this aspect of the relationship.”
When his eyes turn dangerously calm, I continue, hastily, “I mean that for some reason, you make it easy for me to explore our bedroom life, for lack of a better word. I don’t think it would have come so naturally with somebody else.”
His knife slices the tomatoes in a sharp movement, and I wince at his silky voice, with undertones of danger. “It’s cute that you think I would ever let another man lay his hands on you, A ghrá.”
His lilting Irish accent turns thick with arrogance. “What exactly does that mean?”
Fergus grins at me. “Just a pet name.”
“He’s lying to you, Sarah. Don’t buy into his deceit. That’s a deal-breaker,” Zayn called from his position on the sofa. “Page forty-five of Cosmo, January issue.”
“You read Cosmo?” I ask, bewildered. The man has a lethal and deadly vibe about him. I find it hard to see him tucked in a corner, reading that rag.
“Agatha left behind a copy in my bathroom. I was bored,” Zayn says, casually.
“I put some chips in front of you so that you could stuff your face and shut up,” Fergus comments.
Zayn gives him a calculating look. “Give me some guacamole and I will.”
As I walk over with the guacamole, he tells Fergus, “Philip called last night. Charlotte caught a stomach bug. He’s losing his shit. It’s pretty funny.”
Fergus is about to say something when my phone vibrates, and he picks up. “Hello, Sarah’s phone.”
I wonder why he answered until I realize who it is on the other end.
“I’m sorry, Seth. Sarah is otherwise occupied at the moment. Would you like to leave a message?”
When Zayn gives me a questioning look, I shrug awkwardly. “An old friend of mine who’s being a little annoying.”
Fergus smiles into the phone. “What I do to Sarah is our private business. I hardly see why you feel you have the right to tell her how to lead her life. You’re not her boyfriend.”
I roll my eyes, whispering, “Stop it.”
