Page 41 of Ciaran

Laurella rubs her lips together. “That’s possibly the attraction.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Am I that transparent?”

“No. You’re incredibly hard to read. I took a guess, and it looks as though I was right.”

My head flops back and I groan. “How do I even begin to tell him how I feel? I’m not exactly experienced.”

Laurella grimaces. “I don’t think I’m the right person to advise you on that.”

“How did you and Callum get together?”

“Painfully. Callum and I didn’t exactly get along when we first met. In fact, it would be fair to say we loathed each other.”

I rub my hands together. “Tell me more.”

She chuckles. “Put it this way, Callum did not think Necron needed a marketing director, and he made his feelings very clear. The bad news for him was my Italian heritage. We’re known for being fiery, passionate, and rarely backing down from an argument. We clashed. A lot.” She shrugs. “Now I can’t imagine my life without him. Sure, we still have our moments, but we work through them.” She gets to her feet and pats my arm. “Talk to Ciaran.”

I nod. “I will.”

Chapter 16

Ciaran

I step into the living room and catch the tail end of a conversation between Laurella and Millie.

“Talk to Ciaran.”

“I will.”

I drop my gym bag on the floor. “What’s up?” I ask.

A faint flush stains Millie’s cheeks pink. “You look exhausted. Are you okay?”

“Didn’t get much sleep last night.” I sink into a chair and pinch my nose between my thumb and forefinger. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“It can wait,” she says. “Why don’t you take a nap?”

Still irked from her ‘let’s be buddies’ comment yesterday, I scowl. “Thanks for your concern. Still, I guess that’s what friends do, right?”

Millie flinches, and Laurella flashes me a what the hell is wrong with you glare. Millie recovers her composure damn quickly, though, then purses her lips, and sets her steady gaze on me.

“Correct, Ciaran.” Her tone is clipped and chilly enough to give me frostbite. “Friends do show one another concern, and when you’re done snapping at me, we’ll talk. Until then, I suggest you sleep off your bad mood. I’ll be in my room when you’re ready.”

While I try to find my goddamn tongue so I can apologize, she gives Laurella a tight smile and goes into her room, closing the door quietly behind her. Despite my utter frustration—both sexual and emotional—pride rushes through me. A few weeks earlier, she wouldn’t have answered back with so much composure and control. Slowly, the girl I knew in high school is emerging, and I fucking love it, despite being on the receiving end of her disapproval.

“What on earth was that about?” Laurella asks.

I drag my fingers through my hair and allow my head to fall back. I blow out my cheeks and blink. “Sorry.”

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to. What’s wrong with you, Ciaran? That wasn’t like you at all.”

I ignore her question, because right now, my answer would go something like, “Oh yeah. Well, maybe I’m sick of being the fucking nice guy.” Instead, I ask, “What does she want to talk to me about?”

“You’ll have to ask her that.”

I huff. “Come on, Laurella. Cut me a break.”

She taps her fingers to her lips. “Let’s just say, being friends is often a precursor to something more.”

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