Page 30 of Myla: The Hawthornes

“Shit. I’m gonna have to order somethin’,” Dad muttered. He stomped toward the kitchen.

“I got new curtains for the bedroom,” my mom announced cheerfully.

“Well, thank God,” my dad said dryly, walking straight for her.

“You could be a little excited.”

“We’ve got fuckin’ blinds in our bedroom,” he replied, reaching for her.

“Shield your eyes,” I yelled dramatically as he pulled her in for a kiss.

Frankie laughed like a lunatic as I threw my hand in front of my face.

“I think it’s cute,” Lou said dreamily.

“Ugh.” I peeked through my fingers, and my dad’s hands were still gripping my mom’s ass. “That’s not cute. Hands to ourselves, people!”

Mom giggled and danced away from Dad.

“Weren’t you headed back to your own house?” Dad asked me, hands on his hips. “I swear you said somethin’ about not bein’ hungry.”

“This willalwaysbe my house, and I’mstarving,” I shot back.

“That’s right,” my mom agreed. “Tommy, order some food, would you?”

I laughed when my dad’s eyes met mine, his face expressionless.

For the next hour, with my parents playing grab-ass and my friends lapping up their particular brand of crazy, I barely thought of Cian at all.

Well, I pretended anyway.

The next morning, I called Mom to tell her she owed me ten dollars and a silk robe.

Chapter 6

Cian

Iwas barelyable to drag Aoife out of the hospital when Aunt Ashley and Ronan showed up the next morning. She was adamant that she wanted to be there if Richie woke up, but after a day and a half of no sleep, she just didn’t have it in her to fight me. Saoirse had gone back earlier, and I had serious doubts about Aoife’s ability to stay conscious on the back of my bike, but thankfully we got there without incident.

After crashing hard for a few hours, I woke up to my nephew’s nose just inches from mine.

“You sleepin’?” he asked. “Uncle Cian, you sleepin’?”

“I was,” I grouched, pulling him onto the couch with me. “You little gremlin.”

“I not a gremnin,” he argued, shoving at my chest. “I a boy.”

“Sorry, you’re right.”

“Auntie made me lunch,” he informed me, grinning.

“Mac and cheese?” I asked with a laugh. The evidence was all over his chin.

“And hot dogs,” Sean confirmed. “You want some?”

“Nah, I’m good,” I replied, setting him back on his feet.

“Seanie,” Saoirse scolded, hurrying out of the kitchen. “I told you not to wake Uncle.”

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