Page 109 of Myla: The Hawthornes

“We’re here,” Cian announced, holding me by the hand as he led me into the house.

“Oh, look everyone, Cian’s here!” Aisling said sarcastically from her spot at the end of the couch. “Sersh, did you see Cian was here?”

“Shut it,” Cian said, kicking off his boots.

I let go of him to take off my own boots, thankful for a moment that I’d put on cute socks.

I needed to get a grip. Nobody gave a shit about my socks.

“Uncle!” Sean called as he came racing around the kitchen island.

“Seanie!” Cian called back, catching Sean as he leaped. “How’s my guy?”

“I good. I had a boogie.”

“We’ve been hearing about the boogie all day,” Aunt Ashley said from her seat at the counter. “Apparently it was impressive.”

“So big,” Sean said with relish. “Mam got it.”

“Highlight of my day,” Aoife said dryly. “Hey, Myla.”

“Hey,” I said, moving around Cian and Sean. “Thanks for having me.”

“Thanks for coming,” Aoife replied. “Cute sweater.”

“Told you,” Cian said, looking up from Sean.

“Zip it,” I said, shooting him a glare. I looked back at Aoife. “Can I help with anything?”

“I’ve got it all covered,” she said easily. “You’re a guest.” She paused. “But only this time. Next time I’ll take the help.”

“That’s fair,” I said with a laugh.

“Come sit with us,” Saoirse called from the chair in the living room. “We’re not allowed in the kitchen either.”

“That’s because this kitchen is the size of a closet,” Aoife said as I moved back toward the living room.

“It’s because I’m a shitty cook,” Aisling informed me. “She’s afraid I’ll ruin it.”

“Ash’s probably right,” Saoirse said, grinning up at me. “But I’m an excellent cook.”

“I’m not great,” I admitted, sitting down on the couch. “I can do a few things really well, though.”

“Yeah, she can,” Cian muttered.

“I’m going to kill you,” I hissed, whipping around to look at him.

“Your chicken casserole thing,” he clarified, watching with relish as my eyes widened with horror. “And that potato soup thing you make.”

Aisling and Saoirse cackled.

“Thosearegood,” I replied, turning back around. My face felt like it was on fire, and it took every inch of willpower I had not to fan it.

“Uncle, you got liptick on,” Sean announced.

“What?” Cian asked in confusion.

“He’s right,” Saoirse said. “Nice shade of red, but with your coloring, I’d go a little darker next time.”

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