Page 60 of Red Card


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“What the hell was that, Cillian!?” she cries the moment she bursts through the exit of the bar into the parking lot. The heavy metal doors slam shut behind us, drowning out the sound of the upbeat music, leaving us alone in the frigid winter air. She whips to face me, her bright eyes burning. “Tell me what the hell just happened. What. Was. That?”

I clench my jaw as I tear my gaze away, leveling it on the rows of cars.

I don’t even know how to answer that question because I have no fucking clue what came over me. All I know is that I couldn’t stand to see him touch her. As if she were his to touch.

“No, you don’t get to ignore me and go back to your broody bullshit, Cillian Cairney. Hell no,” she seethes, stepping closer. Her chest heaves beneath her jacket, her fists balled at her sides. “You acted like a jealous prick back there.”

Not going to lie, seeing her be the sassy spitfire she was that first day I saw her on the pitch is so bloody hot, but I keep that to myself because she’s clearly pissed.

I don’t blame her, but also, fuck, she’s drivingmecrazy. I feel like I’m losing my mind, and I don’t know what the fuck to do about it. I don’t know how to stop feeling like this.

How to stop this shit before we both end up doing something that we can’t come back from. Something that changes everything.

“I don’t know, Rory,” I finally mutter. I drag my fingersexasperatedly through my hair in frustration, tugging at the strands. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

She shakes her head, peering up at me, her eyes searching mine. “The truth? That’s a good start. Tell me why you almost got into a freaking fight with that guy. God, Cillian, you’re the one who told me to go talk to a guy. Isn’t that what you brought me here tonight to do? Isn’t that what you wanted? I do exactly as you said to do and here you are acti—”

“I couldn’t fucking stand him touching you, okay?” I cut her off, the admission rips out of me before I can stop it, my voice rising an octave and echoing around the empty parking lot. “Fuck, I just… I couldn’t fucking do it.”

Her mouth falls open as her expression flutters with surprise, her eyes widening. She inhales a shaky breath. “So someone else can’t touch me, but you don’t want me either, right?” I can hear the hurt in her voice, and I hate that I’m the cause of it.

My mouth opens, then closes. I’m struggling between fighting what I know is right and giving into what I want. “No, St. James. You’re wrong. I want you so fucking bad that I’m losing my bloody mind,” I say as I close the distance between us. “You think I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing you?”

She swallows roughly, shaking her head. “I mean, you didn’t evenacknowledgeit, Cillian. What was I supposed to think? I thought you weren’t into it. I know I’m not very good at it, but st—”

“Stop. You’re perfect,” I say, cutting her off again. I hate that she thinks she’s so undesirable, or because she’s not experienced that it’s a turnoff or would make me want her any less.

If anything it makes me want her more, knowing that I’m the one who would be teaching her these things.

That I would be the one creating these experiences for her.

That’s an honor I don’t fucking deserve.

My head shakes, and I reach for her, cupping her jaw in my hand. I sweep my thumb along her bottom lip. “Stop doubting yourself. Everything about you is perfect, Rory, and I’m so bloody sorry that I didn’t talk to you about the other night.”

I feel her hands slide along the front of my shirt, fisting in the material, and I almost shiver.

“Kiss me,” she whispers as she rises on the tips of her toes. “There’s nothing stopping you right now.Kiss me, Cillian.”

A low groan shudders out of me. “For once in my life, I’m trying to do the right thing, Rory. I’m trying not to fuck everything up.”

“Stop trying to decide what I want or what I need,” she murmurs against my lips. “I can make my own decisions. This doesn’t have to be complicated. We can just… have fun. Hook up. Do what feels good for both of us. Clearly, we’re into each other. I’m not asking you to date me. I’m asking you to kiss me.”

But it’s more than that. Whatever this is… it feels like more than that. It feels monumentally fucking dangerous.

I swallow. “And then what, St. James? I kiss you and then what?”

The pads of her fingers press into my stomach, and my dick stirs to life, pressing against the zipper of my trousers.

“Then we… do other things,” she says breathlessly.

Motherfucker.

When I don’t immediately respond, she continues, those pretty wide eyes flaring with heat. “It’ll just be hooking up. Fun, low-key,easy. And I still have things to learn, remember. What happened toI can teach you whatever you want, Rory?”

She does a piss-poor job at an English accent, and I chuckle, shaking my head at how bloody bad she gets it every single time.

Her plump pink lips curve into a grin.