Page 61 of Fifth Avenue Fling

I roll my eyes and look away.So even Liam noticed the charged atmosphere between Killian and me that night.“Liam couldn’t see in front of his own face. He was in no fit state to judge anything.”

Did the security crew notice the weird tension as well? There’s no way I can ask Sam about it.

My phone beeps, and I pull it out from my yoga pants pocket.

Killian: Where are you?

No niceties. No hint of tone.

Jeez, what is wrong with me? My heart is pounding. It’s just a text message. And I’m not working today, so I don’t owe him any answers.

“Liam?” Orla asks.

“No,” I say, my eyes fixed on the phone as I wander. “Killian.”

“What’s his deal messaging you on a Saturday?” She scowls. “You’re not even working today.”

“He wants to know where I am,” I murmur.Why?

“Dick. He better not be trying to rope you into some work stuff.”

I message him back, telling him I’m in Queens with Orla.

Almost immediately, his typing dots show up.

Killian: One of the team will come to get you when you’re ready to head back to Manhattan.

I show Orla the message. “I think he’s trying to be nice?”

She reads it and frowns. “You don’t need collecting. He’s not your da.”

I text backI’m fine, and the phone immediately rings in my hand.

“He’s calling? God, he’s so heavy-handed. Don’t answer it.”

“Killian,” I say, bringing the phone to my ear.

“Clodagh,” his gruff voice replies. “Why are you refusing the ride?” His almost accusatory tone sends my heart racing faster.

“I’m staying with my friend Orla tonight.”Ihaltinmytracks, making the dog walkers and runners flow around me. Did I miss something in the manual I was supposed to do today? “Is that a problem? I didn’t think you needed me today.”

I ignore Orla’s glares and turn away from her. Why is he taking so long to respond?

“I don’t need you,” he finally says, his voice low and stern. “It’s just that… you work for me. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

Heat rises tomy faceas I fight the urge to smile.“Do you call all your staff who work in that big glass skyscraper to check if they’re okay?” I can’t help myself.

I can hear the frustration in his voice as he responds, “No, I don’t, but you live with me. I need to make sure you’re looked after.”

“Do youmissme?”Thewordsflyfrommymouth before I can think twice.Oh God, why did I ask that? “Ignore that. I’m fine, Killian. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“There’s a tracker on your phone for safety. Call the team at any time if you need anything.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “Or call me.”

I notice he doesn’t answer my question about missing me.

Why does he care so much about my safety? What the hell does he think will happen to me in a park in Queens at midday, surrounded by joggers and dog walkers?

To be fair, I almost got kidnapped last Thursday night.

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