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“So. What you mean is that I have to video call Kate?”
“No. Well, not exactly. What I mean to say is that you have to make it work. Kate isn’t the only one responsible here. You can get your butt off the couch and see her too, you know?”
“Yeah, yeah. I hear you,” Errin mumbled.
“Hmm-hmm.”
“I said I hear you. Now, can you please help me to my bedroom?”
Errin had enough talking about her sister. She loved Kate. But living in the same city, hell—sharing an apartment together, but still feeling thousands of miles apart was not something she’d liked to talk about. Not even with her brother and best friend.
After showering and hopping over to her bed, she took the purple comforter in hand to pull it open. She thought of Brennan doing the same earlier today.
After bringing her to the ER and waiting for hours in the hospital in the waiting room with her, Brennan had taken the time to make sure she was being looked after at home. He brought those gross bags of peas even though he’d been scheduled to work at Lucky this morning.
He had even texted her tonight to see how she was holding up. He didn’t respond to the last text she’d send him, but it was sweet of him to check up on her.
She nestled in her bed, picked up her phone and opened the Lucky profile on social media. She clicked on a picture of Brennan and Emmy, Lucky’s cook and Brennan’s cousin. He smiled at his cousin in the photo, and it made Errin’s heart flutter.
Errin wasn’t the only woman stalking the handsome bartender online. Pff. Some seriously desperate Seeking Susan’s commented with drooling emoji’s and wide eyes smileys. Not that he’d ever reply.
She’d done her research. He may not be a choirboy, but out of all the Mills brothers, Brennan and Declan were the two most reserved. They didn’t seem to sleep around that much. Well, not like their brother, Ronan, the manwhore.
She smiled and shook her head as she typed a comment under one photo. It was a cute picture of Brennan’s dad bringing in her birthday cake into the pub yesterday. She typed and hit send.
Let’s see if he’ll reply.
Brennan woke up to a notification from his phone. He turned on his side, making his old bed groan, and grabbed the annoying fucker from his nightstand. Brennan had recently decided to close Lucky on Mondays, and he would’ve slept in today if it weren’t for this unknown number, texting him at nine in the morning.
He skimmed the text. Janessa. Some barfly at the pub. How she ended up with his number, he had no clue. He deleted her text without replying and blocked her number.
He’d told her months ago he wasn’t interested. Her keeping up her stalking ways proved his instincts were right once again. Growing up around the bar gave him a sixth sense in reading people.
He scrolled through his texts and came across Errin’s juvenile response from yesterday. He’d texted her to ask how she was doing after he’d handed over the frozen pea bags to her brother. And surprise, surprise… When she’d finally replied, she’d already been walking around, going over to Duncan’s house for monthly game night. Right after she’d been told to rest her ankle for about a week.
Now how was that helping? To say it irritated him would be an understatement. If he hadn’t scared Errin, she’d never have fallen and sprained her ankle. So he wanted to make sure she would be all right. But did she care?
No.
After he’d texted her late last night to point out she was sabotaging her recovery, she’d sent a meme to him of a woman standing in a backyard on a ladder, peering through a binocular with the following text underneath: Me looking for a fuck to give… Can’t find one tho.
After that entertaining response, he wasn’t reaching out to her anymore.If she wanted to fuck up her recovery and act like a petulant child, he’d no longer care. So he didn’t reply to her meme and went to sleep. Still lying in bed with his phone in hand, he blinked when Declan’s name filled the screen.
“What’s up?” Brennan said after clearing his throat.
“Bren, shit, man. I forgot it’s Monday. Did I wake you?”
“No, no. Was already up.”
“Okay. Good,” Declan said. He remained silent.
“What’s going on?” Brennan asked. His brother often turned to Brennan for advice, and he guessed the reason for Dec’s phone call had something to do with Bree.
“Squirt.” Declan sighed.
Ding, ding, ding.Bree hated the nickname the Mills brothers gave her when she was six and had just moved in next door with her parents and four sisters. But the name suited her, as she was the little squirt following the Mills boys around from the tree house on whatever adventure.
Bree was two years younger than Declan, but the two were so close growing up, people often thought she was part of the Mills family instead of a Ryan girl. Things weren’t so good at home for a while after Bree’s father left when Bree was nine. She would stay over at the Mills place more often than not.
