Page 55 of While You Sleep

“Not as bad as it should be.”

He huffed a laugh.

“Fiona get home okay last night?”

Conor gave me a bewildered look. “Your girl’s a handful. It took some fucking doing, but yes, I got her home. Stayed with her until I was sure she wouldn’t choke on her own vomit, then left.”

“Thanks, I owe you one.”

“Nah, haven’t been that entertained in a while,” he said with a smirk.

“Oh god, what did she do? I love Fi, I really do, but when she’s drunk she can get a little—”

“Handsy?”

I winced.

“Yeah, think I have a bruise in the shape of her hand on my ass,” he said.

I wanted to call her, but there was no point. She’d be asleep. Her hangovers were bad, and she usually had to sleep them off most of the next day. “Sorry about that,” I said, though he didn’t look that upset about it.

“No problem.”

“Did Cillian say when he’d be back?” Despite all the humiliating things I’d said, I had this really strong urge to see him.

Conor shook his head. “He and Dec have some business. It’ll probably take a few hours.”

Disappointment surged through me. “Okay, well, I’ll just grab a shower, then.”

“You want some pancakes? I can whip you up a stack while you wash the puke out of your hair,” he said, that grin back on his face.

“What?” I touched my hair, the strands around my face were stiff. “Oh god. That’s disgusting.” I spun and rushed for the stairs.

“I’ll start on the pancakes… And, Soph?”

I stopped and turned back.

“Next time, you might wanna put pants on. Not sure Cillian would be too happy with me seeing you like that.”

I froze and looked down at myself and my face exploded with heat. I was in only my shirt and panties. “I thought… Oh god, I’m not wearing my bathing suit anymore.”

“Nope,” he said, winked, and strode into the kitchen.

Face on fire, I sprinted upstairs and into the bathroom. My bathing suit was in the laundry basket, also covered in puke. I was wearing one of my T-shirts, a short one. Cillian must have grabbed it and a pair of panties, they were dark pink with a lace cutout. My face heated again. No, he wouldn’t like anyone else seeing me like this. Not at all.

I felt much better after I’d washed my hair, cleansed my face, and scrubbed my teeth. I pulled on shorts, my most comfy bra, and a soft T-shirt. Then tied my hair back in a ponytail and headed back downstairs, feeling decidedly more human this time. I was really hoping Cillian would be back, but he still wasn’t, and my disappointment was kind of extreme. I pulled my phone from my pocket and tapped out a quick text.

Thanks for looking after me last night.

For some reason my heart sped up when I hit send.

Conor fed me a stack of pancakes, and I ate them all. Then I headed out to the pool to nap and wait for Cillian to get home. I woke several hours later in the midst of a nightmare, when I flipped the lounger and hit the ground. Thankfully, no one saw and I only grazed my elbow.

Cillian still wasn’t home and he hadn’t replied to my text. I paced around inside the house again, then tried to get some work done, but I felt fidgety and restless. It was nuts, but I thought I might actually miss him. How was that possible?

Ever since the party at Declan’s, things had changed between us. He was trying, I could see it. He talked more, always asking if I had what I needed, making sure I was okay. He brought me things—a beautiful lamp for my office that I knew had to have cost a lot, he made me pick a couch the day after I mentioned I wanted one. The list went on.

Then last night—

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