Aisling rolls her eyes. “See? Come in. We got pizza, and I thought we could watch a new horror movie? Cillian hates them, but he puts up with them because I love them so much.” She gestures me inside the apartment and shuts the door behind us.
Cillian walks into view, looking exceptionally hot tonight in a T-shirt and sweatpants, his feet bare on the hardwood. He’srubbing the back of his neck, his expression apologetic. “Sorry, I’ve quite literally never heard her talk this much.”
“Well someone has to carry on a conversation because we all know it won’t be you!” Aisling retorts beside me, giving him a pointed look.
He just grins.
I already know I’m going to love seeing the two of them together. He feels so different from the Cillian that I’ve come to know. He seems less reserved and more at ease.
Dragging his attention to me, his gaze travels over my body and back to meet my eyes. “St. James.”
“Cairney.”
We stand in the foyer, staring at each other stupidly for a few brief moments, that familiar magnetic tug appearing like usual, making me want to reach for him. Something that I’ve recently found myself wanting to do when we’re together.
It’s dangerous.
“Thanks for coming,” he says.
I roll my lips together to bite back the smile, my face flushing at what he really means.
It is my way of thanking him after…
“Yeah, of course,” I squeak, earning me a grin. It warms my insides, my stomach flipping in response.
He’s entirely too attractive when he smiles. It’s unnerving.
Aisling’s brow furrows deep, and she looks between the two of us, shaking her head. “Why do I feel like there’s something weird happening right now?”
We both remain quiet, until finally Cillian laughs. “Come on,we’ve got pizza, and this stupid bloody movie that Ais is bullying me into watching.”
It’s hilarious that Aisling is capable of bullyinghim.
He takes my jacket from me and hangs it on the coat hook in the foyer, his dark eyes sliding appreciatively over the silk camisole. “New?”
I nod. “Another impulse purchase that worked out. I think it flatters my figure.”
“You could wear a paper bag and still be beautiful, St. James,” he responds with a shake of his head. “But I like it. It looks amazing on you.”
My lip tilts upward. “Thank you.”
I follow Cillian out of his foyer and into the apartment. It’s small but cozy. Obviously his sister has taken to decorating some. There are plush throws and pillows on the couch and picture frames on the bookshelves in the corner. Hundreds of books are overflowing from it, and I turn to Aisling, who’s seated at the table opening the pizza box.
“Have you read all of these?”
“Mostly.” She laughs, scrunching her nose. “There are a few that are still on my TBR, but I’m always reading.”
“Always,” Cillian interjects. Aisling sticks her tongue out at her brother and rolls her eyes feigning annoyance, but I can see the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “She wouldn’t leave London without them. Paid an arm and a leg to have them shipped over. I packed these bloody things for days.”
God, he packed them all for her and had them shipped here? Cillian Cairney may actually be a big secret softie.
It’s incredibly sweet and thoughtful of him to do that for his sister.
“Surprisingly, he barely complained. Though… there was a lot happening at once,” she says in a strange tone, suddenly clearing her throat. “Anyway, yes. Thank you, big brother, for using your big strong muscles and packing all of my babies. Reading is kind of my escape.”
“I totally get it. I actually do cross-stitch, and it’s a way for me to just like… zone out? Like my brain can just focus on it without having to think very hard. Sometimes I just want to binge-watch shitty TV and do a cross-stitch,” I admit. Mostly justThe OfficeorTrue Blood.
Cillian pulls out a chair for me, and I drop down into it as Aisling hands me a paper plate.
