I gave him a look that I hope he interpreted asyou’re being ridiculousand reopened the page.
Beauty and the beast. The delicious Cian O’Leary out with some dog in downtown Austin.
The picture was of us beside his truck, standing a lot closer together than I noticed at the time.
The comments section was vicious.
@olearysfuturebeau - maybe he’s doing some kind of make a wish for the terminally ugly
@hockey_fan23 - Beauty and the beast, lol. Definitely a butterface.
@puckbunny4lyf - No, hear me out. She’s auditioning for the dour wife so he can go out and f**k bunnies without the bad PR
@aces4thechampionship - O’Leary! Blink twice if you need help!
The comments went on and on. Variations of the same theme. Too ugly for a hockey player. Maybe he has weird kinks and she has a beard. Maybe he’s being held hostage.
Some were so absurd they were funny.
“I don’t give a fuck what they say, but it matters if it screws up any remaining chance I had with you.”
I tossed my phone on the coffee table behind me.
“I couldn’t care less what a bunch of keyboard warriors have to say about me. I tell myself worse things every day. That’s child’s play.” I waved my hand in the direction of my phone and shrugged.
“That makes me really sad.”
“What?”
His grip tightened on my thighs, then he rubbed his palms over them, like he needed to know I was solid on top of him.
“I hate the thought of you being mean to yourself. Let alone worse than the shit those assholes said. You’re the only one I would have wanted to share that day with, so fuck anyone who says different.”
I shifted in his lap, caught between discomfort at speaking so openly about my self-hate, and an unexpected gratitude that Cian would care enough to make sure I was all right after reading that shit. I’d been incredibly unfair with all the assumptions I’d made about him, pretty much since day one. He was kind, caring, and one of the most genuine people I’d ever met.
“So about this friend thing,” I said.
He blinked, visibly changing gears in his mind.
“What about it?”
“Well, what would it involve?”
His mouth twitched, eyes sparkling as he slid his hands a little higher on my thighs.
“Surprise outings, meals together, unexpected drop-ins… you know. The usual friend things.”
It was my turn to blink.
“You already do all of that.”
I hadn’t once invited him to spend time with me. He just turned up and dragged me into whatever he’d decided we were doing. Secretly, I loved it.
“That’s because we’re already friends. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”
The laugh that burst out of me was warm and light, clearing pockets of darkness in me that had curdled over the years.
“Okay,” I said, biting my lip to give me courage, “but can we talk about a benefit package?”
