Page 127 of Myla: The Hawthornes

It wasn’t until Bas came in the front door and I looked over expecting Myla, that I realized it had been a while and she still hadn’t shown up.

I threaded my way through the crowd and found Lou in the living room. “Hey, you know when Myla was headin’ over?”

Lou shook her head. “I don’t know. She called me when she got off work, but she mostly just bitched about how you were sending a babysitter with us tonight.”

“Great.”

“I didn’t even think to ask when she was coming,” Lou continued. “I figured she’d be here for dinner. She knew what time, right?”

“She knew.”

“She was pretty pissed,” Lou said with a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure she’ll show up, though.”

“Thanks.”

Typical Myla. She was pissed so she was making a point. I pulled out my phone and called her. She’d agreed that shewouldn’t do that shit anymore—but here she was, missing my sister’s birthday dinner because she was pissed at me. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got, especially when she didn’t answer her damn phone.

“Call me back,” I left on her voicemail. “This is fucked up. You told Saoirse you’d be here.”

I stuffed my phone in my pocket as Aisling called my name from the kitchen. Gritting my teeth, I plastered on a smile as I walked toward her so no one would know how pissed I was.

Bailing on me was one thing, but hell if Myla was going to do this shit to my family.

When I reached Aisling, she elbowed me in the side. “What was that present that Aoife got Saoirse when she was like eight—”

“I was nine,” Saoirse corrected.

“Whatever,” Aisling said. “That present that Sersh was pissed about for a month. Wasn’t it like a soccer ball or something?”

“It was a set of walkie-talkies,” I replied, my smile growing more genuine. “Me and Ronan used them.”

“Walkie-talkies!” Aisling cackled. “That was it!”

“I just wanted a book,” Saoirse said in exasperation.

“I think I found those in the lost and found at school,” Aoife commented smugly.

“Both of them?” I asked. “Nice pull.”

“I had skills,” she replied.

“Cian!” Tommy bellowed from the living room. “Titus! Bas!”

My heart stopped as I turned. Tommy was pale as shit.

Our eyes met, and I knew.

“I’ll call you,” he told Heather as he jogged toward the front door. “Stay here!”

I was already running.

Chapter 18

Myla

I’d been arguingwith Cian since I met him. It was what we did. Neither of us liked to be wrong, and we had some very different opinions, so it was a bit inevitable. Becoming a couple had changed things, though. While we now had the added bonus of makeup sex, which I was very much a fan of—the arguments had started giving me massive anxiety.

I no longer had the option of walking away to let us cool off for a few days. Not only did Cian really hate that, but I could no longer imagine not seeing him or speaking to him for days.

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