Page 28 of Quiet Longing

Theo rubbed the back of his neck. “He might have.”

Nuala rolled her eyes. “Of course. Well, you’ve found us, and we’re all in one piece, so you can report back.”

“Here, let me get you both a drink,” Theo said, ignoring her comment about reporting back as he motioned us farther into the kitchen.

“Are there any Bacardi Breezers?” Nuala asked. “The orange ones are my favourite.”

“I thought we weren’t drinking,” I said, nudging her elbow.

Nuala grinned impishly. “One won’t hurt.”

“What’s your poison, Moretti?” Theo asked.

“Well, I guess if we’re each having one, I’ll take a Bacardi Breezer, too.”

“Coming right up.”

He left us for a moment before returning with two ice cold bottles. We watched as he expertly popped off the lids before sliding them across the counter to us.

Once we had our drinks, Theo again motioned for us to follow him. We ended up in a TV room where Derek, Tristan, Aidan, and Rhys were hanging out. There were some girls, too, most of them fawning over Aidan though Derek and Tristan were also garnering their share of attention. I didn’t see a singlegirl who wasn’t completely stunning, and it made me feel a little out of place as I tugged self-consciously at my top.

Okay, no, I refused to let feelings of inferiority take over. I wasn’t that girl.

Spotting Rhys sitting on a large armchair, I was struck by how separate he seemed. It was like he wasn’t even there with the rest of them, and it made my heart squeeze a little. His head was bent slightly, gaze staring off into space like his thoughts were elsewhere. With his dark hair and stunning blue eyes, I found it hard to look away. He wore an open work shirt with a black T-shirt underneath, blue jeans, and boots, nursing a beer. My pulse kicked up a notch, and I didn’t understand how none of the girls were flirting with him.

Clearly, they had no taste, but that was just my opinion.

Shaking myself out of my fawning reverie, I made a beeline for him.

“Hey, scoot over,” I said, motioning to the armchair. Rhys’ focus slowly travelled up my body, his eyes lingering for a moment on my cleavage. A faint shiver went through me before he silently made some space for me. I sat and then realised my error because there was barely enough room for both of us. Our thighs were flush. My bare arm rested against the soft fabric of his shirt. I could also smell him, and I really liked how he smelled. Rhys’ scent was all clean boy, soap, and a hint of spicy cologne. I was struck with the sudden urge to bury my face in his neck and inhale.

To distract myself from the instinct, I took the first sip from my Bacardi. It was delicious and barely tasted of alcohol at all, which was probably dangerous, but I didn’t plan on having another so it was all good.

“Who gave you that?” Rhys asked, frowning down at the bottle.

“Don’t worry,” I chided, waggling my brows. “I’m of age. In this country, at least.”

“That’s not what I meant. There are all sorts of creeps about.” He angled his head to the rest of the party. “You can’t be too careful.”

My chest fluttered when I realised he was concerned about my drink being spiked. “Oh, right. It’s okay. Theo gave it to me. I watched him open it, and I haven’t set it down since, so it’s safe.”

Rhys rubbed his jaw, eyeing the bottle before his gaze came to rest on mine. “Good.” His voice was gruff. “Don’t accept drinks from anyone you don’t know here. In fact, don’t accept drinks from anyone youdoknow either.”

He seemed a bit stressed about the whole thing, and I was touched that he was so concerned for me. “So, I can’t even accept drinks from you?”

“You shouldn’t, no.”

“But I trust you. And besides,” I went on, unsure what came over me when I tilted my head in a flirtatious manner and poked him in the arm. “Youwouldn’t need to spike my drink.”

I winked, and Rhys inhaled sharply, his eyes flaring in something like shock. Surprise?

“Oh my God, that was in incredibly poor taste,” I said, laughing nervously. “I have a bit of a dark sense of humour sometimes. I’m sorry.”

His tension dissipated a little, and he bobbed his head. “Right,” he said, voice tight, lifting his own drink, some brand of Irish beer, and slugging some back.

I briefly wondered what it would be like to kiss him, the faint taste of alcohol on his tongue. Man, what had gotten into me tonight? Maybe it was being in a house full of teenagers with raging hormones. The attraction I felt for Rhys had suddenly heightened.

The Kings of Leon came on, and Aidan jumped up, making eye contact with me as he began shimmying across the room towards us.

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