Page 58 of Wild Irish

I didn’t tell Kiersten about Cillian. It’s the one thing about the trip I kept to myself. Matt did though. Not that he ever used Cillian’s name, or mentioned the band, but he was quick to let everyone know that I’d gone to Ireland and hooked up with a guy—or multiple guys, depending on who he told.

“Hello?” Kiersten waves her hand in front of my face. “Why the heck not? You said you loved Ireland. I thought you’d love these guys.”

I should just say no. Instead, I give a small nod, regretting it the moment I do.

Kiersten’s face brightens. “Great.”

My stomach twists again, and I pray that my heart will be able to handle seeing him again, even from a distance. But maybe this is exactly what I need for closure. Or maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment.

Chapter 26

Cillian

I’m a fucking coward. I know it. But hell if I’m willing to do anything about it.

Aiden and Emer have been on me for months to call Delaney. And I’ve tried. Even punched her numbers in my phone. I’ve just never had the balls to let it ring.

And now it’s too late.

I know I hurt her. Saw it in her eyes the day I told her to leave.

Asshole.

Looking back, I know it wasn’t even betrayal that I felt. It was jealousy. That another man had touched her, that he claimed she was his. It stirred something in me I’ve only ever felt with Delaney.

A primal possessiveness that I knew would destroy us both.

So, I let her go. Or rather, I pushed her away before she finally saw the truth – that she was too damn good for me.

“We’re boarding now.” Owen nudges my leg, nodding to the flight attendant that’s starting to check tickets.

Aiden and Shane already have their passports out, and the way they’re muttering in hushed tones and glancing in my direction, I know they’re talking about me.

“Ready?” Owen asks, standing, and grabbing his carry-on.

I nod, doing the same.

We still haven’t talked about the shit that went down with Molly. When he came out of the coma and saw me beside his bed, I knew he understood. I’d fucked up by believing he’d betrayed me. And I’d squandered months of my life hating him for something he didn’t do.

I could have wasted words on apologies and regrets. But I didn’t. Maybe I should have. There’s still an underlying tension between us. I don’t know if we’ll ever get back to the way things were before.

Owen rubs his temples and winces.

“You okay?”

“Just a damn migraine. I’ll be better once I get a few beers in me.”

I grunt. He made a quick recovery, but there are things about him that have changed. He’s moodier than before, sullener, but Emer says he’d been that way for a while. I just hadn’t been around to notice it.

I’m hoping the tour will help.

Our first stop is New York. We’ve got several shows along the East coast before heading west.

But there’s only one city that has my nerves frayed.

Chicago.

Delaney’s city.

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