Then she left. Walked out the front door of this restaurant. Didn't get her purse. Didn't worry about finding a ride. Nothing. Just left him there, reeling in his stupidity.
He'd ruined it himself. Trying to protect his brothers had made him destroy his relationship with the only woman he'd ever loved.
“You don't deserve her.” Rian turned and walked out the front door after her.
Cathal took strong, deep breaths.
Brogan deserved it. He knew that before Cathal hit him.
His jaw made an awful cracking sound but popped back in with the first attempt. Cathal had left by the time Brogan blinked a few times to see straight.
That had silenced the crowd. He didn't make any sort of apology. He didn't bother to answer whatever question Trevor had asked. He turned and walked back into his office, gently closing the door.
He'd tried to save the restaurant and ended up losing everyone in the process. His brothers would eventually come around. They'd give him hell for a long while.
But Selena.
He hadn't meant what he'd said. It'd made sense in his head, what he'd tried to get across. It didn't matter. In the end, he'd lashed back out at her and had succeeded in pushing her away.
Ruining everything.
He grabbed the bottle of Jameson and walked to the sofa. A $200 bottle of whiskey should dull some of the pain of his life going to shit in less than five minutes.
20
Selena blinked, disoriented. She sat up, not recognizing the room. Where the hell was she? The room was devoid of anything personal. A hotel? It wasn't Katie's house. It didn't smell like incense and French toast. For some reason, Katie's house always smelled like French toast.
She slipped from the bed. Her eyes felt fat and puffy when she touched them. Then she remembered.
The crying. A lot of crying.
That brought last night into focus. Rian. She was at Rian's apartment. She'd started crying on the way home and remembered falling asleep. God, did he carry her inside? How embarrassing.
She crept out of the room. Rian stood in his kitchen, shirtless and in a pair of dark gray sweatpants. A tattoo across his back surprised her. It looked like words curling across his back like a snake.
“Good morning,” she said.
He snapped his head around. “Good morning to you.” He held up the frying pan. “Eggs?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
The other bedroom door opened. Cathal came out also wearing sweatpants but with a shirt withI Love NYCacross the front. Odd.
His hand was wrapped.
“What happened? I don't remember you hurting your hand last night.”
His lips were grim. “I hurt it on a hard-headed man.”
“You hit Brogan?” A pang of guilt flooded her.
“Yes.” He didn't pause but walked into the kitchen and pulled out two bottles of water from Rian's fridge, one for himself and one for her. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I'm all cried out for the next decade. I'm sorry. You guys really didn't have to do all this for me.” If she had the ability, she'd start up the waterworks again judging by the sickening feeling still hovering in her chest. “Have you talked to him since we left the restaurant?”
Both men looked at each other and then back at her. “I'm glad you didn't wake up last night. He stopped by.”
“Where was I?”