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Nope. That would make me the kind of person I don’t want to be.
But if I were to be jealous, it’s only because I know who I wish would reach for me the same way. I also know he never will.
Conor made it clear how he feels about me over the last few years. Maybe I wasn’t very good at hiding my crush on him, but should I really apologize for it? It’s not like I thought anything was going to happen. Not when I was underage.
Then the distance between us only got worse once I turned 18. That was his choice, not mine.
If only it didn’t hurt so damn much.
“So,” I lean forward a little bit, “Declan told me he already moved you into the house.”
Roisin laughs and shoots my brother a look, one full of the same love he clearly has for her. I’m happy for him, for them. I don’t need to know everything about the woman to get a sense of her. She’s not putting on airs or playing a part. She’s genuine and that’s gotta be worth something in this day and age. Especially considering who my brother is.
“He did,” there’s amusement in her voice. “He didn’t waste any time.”
Declan’s voice is a soft growl, “Are you complaining,mo rós beag?”
“Oh, busting out the Irish endearments,” I tease my brother, “hmmm? If that doesn’t scream serious, I don’t know what does. The whole moving her into the house says a lot too.”
He grips her hand and holds it up for me to see the rock she’s sporting, and if I were the type of woman to squeal, I would. Instead, a loud gasp comes out of me, and I whisper, “Holy shit.”
“Saoirse,” Declan growls in warning.
He’s never liked when I curse. Which is kind of hilarious considering he’s where I heard most of the curse words I know. My first one came from him. I think he doesn’t like it when I say anything like that because part of him still thinks of me as the little girl he had to raise.
It wouldn’t have been ladylike, or whatever, but I’m not that little girl anymore. I’m my own person and I learned from the absolute best when it comes to throwing a swear word around when appropriate and sometimes just because.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I bite my lip to stop myself from saying it out loud just to rile him up.
It would be far too easy.
“Did you just warn her not to use the word ‘shit’?” Roisin blinks over at him with the cutest befuddled look on her face.
“Maybe,” Declan grumbles and shifts in his seat slightly.
“It’s okay,” I assure her, “he hates it when I use swear words. But, fuck, I enjoy using them.”
“Damn it,” he mumbles under his breath.
“You don’t have an issue when I swear.” Roisin’s eyebrows pull together, and she cocks her head to the side as she looks over at Declan. “Is this a parental figure thing? Because she’s an adult now.”
“She can’t legally drink,” he points out as if it means something.
Roisin covers her mouth with her free hand, I’m sure to stop herself from laughing in his face. He looks both pouty and resigned. I’m happy he’s not brooding like he’s been known to do.
It got worse over the last few years. I was never sure if it was because I was growing up, issues with business, or some other reason. I guess he just needed the love of the right woman.
“Anyway,” I chirp and reach for Roisin’s hand which Declan is still holding up. “It’s a beautiful ring,” I gush.
“Thank you,” Roisin whispers and Declan moves her hand back to her thigh, but he doesn’t let go.
Adorably gross.
Unable to help myself and needing to give my brother a hard time, I pout, “Why didn’t you tell me you got engaged?”
“I wanted to surprise you,” he shoots back easily, not at all bothered by my pouting.
