Page 96 of Beautiful Lies
“Have you ever been in love?” I asked, expecting her to laugh it off or say no if what she said about never going on a date was true.
“I…love someone. But it could never work out.”
“Why not?” I suspected it was related to her daddy issues.
She closed one eye as if trying to figure out how much she was willing to tell me. “He works for my dad.”
“Anthony,” I said, taking a wild guess. Anthony had been Ronan’s driver and from what I gathered, the man he trusted most. He was quiet, mid-thirties if I had to guess, and ex-military. A step above Ronan’s other foot soldiers. Anthony was a fixer. His job was to get rid of Marco’s body, but I didn’t mention that.
“Yeah. Anthony.”
It was my turn to be intrigued. “Did it go both ways?”
“If love were a contest, he would win. I’ve loved him since I was like…twelve. Maybe even before that. When I turned eighteen, I thought maybe we’d have a shot. Wishful thinking. We could never be together. Especially now…”
“Because you’re in Brooklyn?” I asked, knowing there was more to separate them than geography.
She gave me a sad little smile. “Anthony loves me, but he’s notin lovewith me. In his eyes, I’ll always be my father’s daughter, a person he wants to protect. He would never cross the line into something more, but it never stopped me from hoping for more. Sometimes you have to let someone go. Because you love them enough that you want the best for them. But sometimes… when you find the right person, you have to hold on tight and never let go.” She gave me a shrewd look and I knew the last sentence was tacked on for my benefit.
“I don’t remember asking for advice.”
“You didn’t. I’m giving it for free.”
“That’s big of you.”
Keira laughed. “Since we’re going down the whole honesty route…it’s refreshing, by the way…I was using you too. When we met, I was trying to find a guy closer to my age. Someone who wasn’t forbidden. I thought you were the perfect candidate.” Her eyes widened. “Wow. That was a fail. I must be a magnet for forbidden love.”
We both cracked up over that one. This whole situation was so crazy that all I could do was laugh.
“Are you and Killian a lot alike?” she asked me a little while later as I made up the sofa where I’d be sleeping.
Killian. Tomorrow morning, I had to break the news to him. That should be fun. I considered her question for a minute. “We look a lot alike, but that’s where the resemblance ends. We’re very different.”
After she left me alone in the living room, the bedroom door closing behind her, I wondered how true that was. Killian had a tough exterior and was better at hiding his emotions, but I suspected he felt things as deeply as I did. He just dealt with it in a different way.
Before I fell asleep, I envisioned Ava just like I did every night, in hopes she’d visit me in my dreams. She never did. Maybe I was a fool for asking her to wait for me. Maybe I should have held on tight and never let her go. But I didn’t want her to fight my battles for me or put her through more of my shit. I needed to do this on my own and show her that I could be the kind of man she could depend on. I knew why she hadn’t told me what Jake Masters did. She’d been trying to protect me from the truth. Ever since that night we were sixteen and Seamus paid a visit, Ava had made it her mission to ‘fix me.’ She had believed that her love would be enough to save me, and in an ideal world, it would have been. But we didn’t live in an ideal world. And her love was no match for my quest to self-destruct. I didn’t want to be broken anymore. I didn’t want her to be left to pick up the pieces. She deserved better than that.
28
Connor
“What did you need to talk to me about?” Killian asked, taking the cardboard cup of black coffee I handed him as we walked to the end of the pier at Transmitter Park. At this early hour, we had it to ourselves. “Do you need relationship advice?”
That was funny. Before Eden, Killian had never had a relationship. It had been one-night stands and casual hook-ups for him. “You’re an expert now?”
“Yep.” He chuckled, recognizing the humor in that statement. “You and Ava doing okay?”
“We’ve got some things to work out.”
“Huh.”
“How was Thanksgiving?” I asked, partly because I didn’t want to talk about Ava, but also because I cared.
“Good. You should come with us next year.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” I stared out at the choppy water of the East River, bracing myself against the cold wind as I wracked my brain for the right words. Fuck it. There were no right words. He’d either support me or walk away and shut me out. “I need to tell you what really happened in Miami.”
“Don’t pull this shit on me. Not again.” He turned to go.
