Page 17 of On The Rocks

Lowering my gaze, I hurried past my aunt and into the hallway, relieved to get away from her and her nasty mouth.

Fighting back never worked for me. All it caused was more problems. Orla had no issue going to Patrick and making me look bad, though he always understood my side. He wasn’t stupid; he knew what Orla and the girls were like. Still, he wasn’t always around to have my back, and honestly, I didn’t want him to. I was an adult, and I could look after myself, though admittedly, the opportunity to leave New York felt like I’d been thrown a lifeline.

My foot hit the top stair, and I immediately heard Callum’s rumble. It was low and rich, and a shiver ran down my spine at its deep timbre. His tone always held a hint of humor, and I loved how his accent was pure American until he spoke a certain word, and it transformed into an Irish lilt.

Slowly, I descended the stairs, my heart hammering inside my chest. The voices grew louder, and Patrick walked from the living room into the wide, opulent hallway, followed by my new fiancé and Shannon, who giggled at something Callum said while sliding her fingers across his arm.

My heart sank at the obvious familiarity between them, and a coldness slid through me as I watched her lean up and give him a lingering kiss on his cheek.

Patrick glanced up the stairs. “Maeve, there you are. Look who’s come to dinner.”

My shocked stare slid back to Callum, who had the good grace to shake Shannon’s hand off him. She glared up the stairs at me like it was my fault my fiancé pushed her away.

I glared back.

Bitch.

“Nice dress,” Shannon declared cattily. “That color’s perfect on you.”

“Funny. I thought it was more your color.” I walked down the stairs smiling sweetly. “It matches your teeth.”

Callum let out a snort.

“Girls,” Patrick murmured in warning, even though his lips twitched at my dig.

Shannon moved to the bottom step, and her lips flattened into a tight line. Her narrowed blue eyes followed me, and she watched me walk toward her.

I shot my adoptive sister a smug smile and took the last step. Then my heart lurched as my foot caught on something, and I let out a screech, going down hard on my knees while my glasses flew off and clattered across the floor.

A shockwave of pain went through my body as I lay face down on the cold tiles. I let out a low moan as a dull ache ripped through my skull. I must have hit my head somewhere because I was seeing stars.

I lay there, sick with embarrassment, trying to stop myself from bursting into tears while all hell broke loose around me.

“What the fuck did you trip her for?” Patrick roared.

I turned my head and winced when I saw Shannon laughing before she retorted, “Oh my God, it was just a joke.”

“You could’ve hurt her!” Patrick bellowed back. “Get your mean, spoiled ass upstairs. You’re not eating with us.”

“Patrick—” my aunt protested, but Patrick cut her off.

“Don’t justify that shit to me, Orla,” he snapped. “It’s your fucking fault they’re like this. Every time I try and inject some respect into them, you undermine me. I warned you what would happen, but you never fucking listen to me.”

I pulled up onto my knees, reaching out for something to grab to help me get to my feet, when a pair of thick, muscular, jean-clad thighs appeared before me.

“Here,” a deep voice rumbled amongst all the screaming and shouting.

I lifted my gaze to see Callum holding his hand out. Tentatively, I grabbed his fingers, allowing him to pull me to my feet, my face burning with shame.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

I gazed up into blurry blue eyes, and my belly fluttered. “Yes,” I squeaked.

Our stares locked—even though I was blind as a bat—and everything around us seemed to stand still.

His eyes were a blur but still as bright as stars. My heart swelled while I stared up at him, dazed, with my lips parted slightly.

“You dropped your glasses,” he rumbled, tearing his eyes from mine and moving away.

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