Page 49 of Tempting Irish

“Yeah.” I pull a beer from the mini-fridge and toss the lid in the garbage can beside it. “I’m going to head home for a few days. Thought I might take her withme.”

Silence and a few raised eyebrows are my only response. I expect a few jabs, or a lecture from Aiden, but I getnothing.

Cillian strums his pick over the guitar strings, then leans over and scribbles something on the paper in front of him. Shane keeps scrolling through his phone, and Aiden leans against the wall, his armscrossed.

I sit down beside Cillian and pick up the chords he’s writtendown.

“Think ye can put some words to them?” heasks.

Lyrics used to come easy to me. But over the past year, everything I’ve written has been flat. Tonight, though, words spin inside my head, begging to bewritten.

I take one of the notepads and a pencil from the table and begin to scribble themdown.

Thirty minutes later, I hand the notebook toAiden.

“What is it?” His gaze scans the words, his brows rising in discernableappreciation.

“Our next song.” I walk toward the bedroom, and say over my shoulder. “Oh, and since ye assholes kicked me out of my own room, I’m taking the damnbed.”

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