Page 155 of Go Luck Yourself
I kiss him, and he lets me take charge until we pivot and he’s the one flattened to the other door now.
“How long until you need to get back to your party?” I ask.
He smiles. “It’s my party; I can be gone as long as I please. The real concern is the more time that passes before we stumble our way back in, the more guarantee that everyone will know what we’ve been doing.”
“Well, if you put your coat back on, they’ll definitely know.” I knot my hands in the lapels of the shirt he’s still somehow wearing. “But where does all this gossip fodder rank on the St. Patrick’s Day King’s list of concerns?”
Loch cradles my head in his hands, my whole being in his hands. “’Tis na even on the list.”
God, his accent topples over itself, and that’s the final shred of convincing I need to haul him over to the cluster of couches by the unlit fireplace. I push him down and he sits with a bounce, gazing up at me in the low light, already looking thoroughly disheveled, so what’s more making out, then?
“Good. Because, as you once told me”—I straddle his lap—“I’m not ready to share you with anyone yet. So it looks like I’ll be responsible for your first scandal as King.”
His smile goes cataclysmic. “I’d expect nothing less, Coffee Shop.”
A laugh cracks out of me and I arch down to kiss him, embracing a happiness so potent that it becomes an immediate counterweight to every dark cloud of anxiety or panic I’ve ever felt. Not erasing them, not numbing them; balancing, so I see myself in a full spectrum between the two extremes, darkness to light and everything in between.
Iris told me I deserve this sort of ending.
Right now, I finally believe I do.
Chapter Nineteen
“Loch, I’ve seen your studio before. I don’t know why the blindfold is necessary for—”
“Would you hush?” He positions me in the center of the room. “Christ, you’re the son of Santy, you should be better at taking gifts than—”
I snort.
He pauses in front of me, adjusting where I’m facing. “Eh?”
“I forgot that’s what you call him here. And, technically, Coal isnotmy dad.”
Loch’s quiet a moment.
Then he rips my hands around to press them firmly against the small of my back andoh.Oh.
“I might’ve misread what was happening here.” Despite how many times we’ve made each other fall apart since his coronation last night, I immediately rub against his body.
He chuckles. “Nah, boyo, this is nothing sexual, but if you keep tryna distract me, Iwon’tuse this blindfold for all the plans I had for itlater.”
I whine. “Later?”
He growls. “Keep it in your pants.”
“Oh, yeah, who woke who up this morning under the blankets with a—”
“That’s hardly my fault.” A rush of heat topples down the side of my throat from his exhale. “You looked too goddamn tempting laid out naked in my bed.”
I stumble, but he’s holding me, arms restrained, the suit I wore yesterday stretching between us.
I don’t even remember why we’re down here.
He nips at my jaw. “We are na gonna be late for that treaty signingof yours. You’re gonna be good and proper about accepting this gift I have for you, then—shite, ya pervert, behave.”
I’d been rubbing my hard-on against him. I stop with an eye roll he can’t see.
“Good boy.” He pecks my mouth and I fight down another whine. “Now, I was saying—you’ll accept this gift and then we’ll go to Christmas all composed and respectful, because I will na have your brother hating me for much longer.”
