Page 11 of Wild Irish

But she’s not the kind of girl that does one-night stands, or at least that’s what I thought before I read the list.

Kiss a stranger.

Sure, that’s innocent enough. But it was number twenty-two that really fucked with my head. Like the list was written by someone else. Someone who could handle what I have to give.

No expectations.

No promises of tomorrow.

No emotions.

I may be an asshole, but I’ve had my own heart crushed enough that I have no intention of inflicting the same pain on someone else. Especially not the sweet little American who carries the weight of the world in those hypnotizing hazel eyes.

“Cillian?”

With my hand on a bottle of Jameson, I glance over my shoulder, cursing under my breath when I see Emer walking towards me, mouth twisted in a frown.

I’ve known the woman since we were kids. Her brother Shane was my best friend, or at least I thought he was before I found out what Owen did. I believed he’d have my back when the shit hit the fan. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

To complicate matters, Emer’s also dating Aiden Callahan, Wild Irish’s drummer, another man I never believed would betray me, until he did.

The four of us—Owen, Aiden, Shane, and myself—started the band ten years ago, when we were still practically kids. We never dreamed we’d have the success we did. But then, a lot of things turned out differently than imagined.

“Hey,” I grumble, regretting not driving the extra twenty minutes to the next town to do my shopping.

Emer gives me a small smile, her expression filled with concern and a million questions that I don’t want to answer. “Yer back?”

“For now.” I place the bottle of Jameson in my trolley, then as a second thought grab another one.

“Have ye called Shane or Aiden? They’ve been worried sick about ye. We all have.”

I grunt, pushing the trolley forward.

She follows me. “I know it’s none of my business, but yer brother–”

“Yer right.” I turn to her. “It isn’t yer business.” I drag my hand through my hair and let out a low breath. “I’ve had a shitty day and I don’t want to make it any shittier by arguing with ye about stuff ye don’t understand.”

Her expression changes from one of concern to irritation. She’s a tiny thing, barely comes up to my shoulders, but the way she crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes at me is intimidating.

She may be two years younger than Shane and I, but she’s never had any problem putting us in our place when she thought we deserved it.

“I knew ye were stubborn, Cillian, but I didn’t take ye for an idiot.”

“So now I’m an idiot for believing what my eyes saw.”

“He didn’t–”

“I’ve heard the lies from his mouth. I don’t need them repeated from yours.”

She shakes her head and mutters something under her breath.

“Leave it alone, Emer. This isn’t your fight.”

“It is. Because I care about ye both.” She places her hand on my arm. “Ye should see him. He’s a mess. It’s killing him to think that he’s lost you.”

“He should have thought about that before he fucked my girlfriend.”

She cringes and drops her hand. Immediately, I regret my harsh tone. The woman has never been anything but good to me.

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