Page 46 of Jay's Silence

I was off my island. Maybe not in Scotland, but in the realm of their bitter rivals. The Irish. Maybe kicking some shit up would ease my discomfort. “Do you have any scotch?”

“In me Irish poehb?” The man’s eyes flashed. “Bloody Americans, try again, fella.”

I grinned before realizing I didn’t know anything about Irish whisky. Not wanting to come across as an idiot, I changed my order to what I’d had at the Guinness factory. He pulled me a pint, though he didn’t draw the little shamrock in the foam, and held out a plastic box with numbers above the image of a wireless signal.

I eyed it, trying to understand what he wanted. A slim, pale hand, gripping a slim phone between her manicured fingers, came into view.

“It’s on me,” a light young woman said, her accent not near as heavy as the bartender’s.

I traced the arm to a stunning woman dressed in a short tartan skirt, held up by a corset of leather straps perfectly framing her plump tits. Fire, I loved a good pair of tits, and Wiggles’ were perfect. The young woman touched her phone to the man’s device, and it beeped happily.

“Aren’t you going to thank me?” the young woman asked.

I pulled my gaze up from her chest and took a sip of my beer. Cat-eyed make-up brought out her brown eyes and dark, dangerous features.

I inclined my head. “Thank you.”

“Scotch is the American term for Scottish whisky. Not even the Scots say scotch if ye want to blend in a bet.” She patted my chest. “Though that shirt’s not doing you any favors.” She giggled.

I looked down at the massive shamrock on my black shirt with the words ‘Feckin Eejit’ written in the middle and smirked. “Feck is my favorite word.”

She licked her bottom lip, taking in my build and obviously liking what she saw. “Are you sure ye know what feck means, Mr. Scotch?”

I took a slow drink of my beer, making sure my Adam's apple bobbed as the swallow went down.

“Why ‘ello,” another woman said, putting her hand on my forearm. “I can’t ‘elp but over’ear you may not ‘ave enjoyed our fine Iris’ malt.”

I lowered my drink and turned my back flat to the bar so I could see both women. The new arrival looked to be closer to my age. Shorts and a V-neck t-shirt showed off less of her tits but hinted at what could fill up my hands. So far, I liked Ireland.

“Cormac, two drams of Red Breast 15,” the woman said, her hand still on my forearm.

The younger woman scowled at the new arrival’s hand. “Orla.”

“Sarah, I didn’t notice ye there.” Orla inclined her head. “I’m sure your oul fella’s around. No need to piss ‘em off before the sun even sets.”

Sarah’s cheeks turned pink, and her gaze flashed to me, looking for help. A hand clapped onto my shoulder, and Lux slid between the two women to lean on the bar next to me. My heartraced before my confidence swelled. It took me a moment to realize why. I didn’t want to be at my first Irish pub alone. And now I wasn’t.

Lux wasn’t Wiggles, who I’d just said the wrong thing to again. Thankfully, he wasn’t Og, who owned a very graphic stretch of real estate in my memory. Or Rehan and his impossible standards. Lux was an unknown.

I handed the air dragon my beer and accepted the whisky the bartender extended before slinging an arm over Lux’s shoulders and mussing his still badly cut hair.

The two women both fanned themselves, eyeing us questioningly before Orla held up her dram. “Sláinte.”

My grin ate my face. I’d been saying that word with my friends for years. It meant ‘health’ in Galic, the toast of the world I wanted to visit.

“Sláinte,” We echoed, all taking a sip.

Warm caramels with the burn of young whisky danced on my tongue, making my eyes water. I opened my mouth to say exactly that to Orla, but Sarah spoke first. “Are ye two an item?”

Lux froze under my arm, and I took even breaths, turning the question over in my mind.

I’d stormed out of the hotel because I wasn’t getting the orgy I didn’t want. A memory of sitting in my apartment, looking at a life I hadn’t picked, juxtaposed every action I’d taken since meeting Jay. The five of us laughing while playing a board game smacked me in the face.

I licked my bottom lip. “Think of us more as a package deal.”

Lux tilted his head up at me, one eyebrow raised. I didn’t remove my arm from around his shoulder.

Orla let out a low hum, her eyes twinkling.

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