Page 8 of Primal

“So, you’ve met Finn. He’s the baby,” Layla begins to clarify. “Quinn is married to his eldest brother, Declan. Me to the next oldest, Tristan. Conor and Liam fall between him and Finn.”

“Are they all?—”

“Absolutely fucking gorgeous?” Jorge interrupts me. “Girl, yes!”

“What about you?” Quinn shakes her at Jorge. “Are you seeing anyone? Or were you in Galway?”

“No. Uncle Sean had me enrolled at an all-girls boarding school, which was pretty much a step below a convent. And mymáthair chríonnawas quite strict about things like curfew when I wasn’t at school. I’ve been on a date here and there, but that’s really about it.”

“So, you’re a virg?—”

“Jorge!” Layla’s voice rises a few octaves as she slaps Jorge’s arm again before turning her attention to me. “I apologize for him. His mother didn’t raise him with any manners.”

“I’m sorry.” Jorge rolls his eyes and feigns an apology. “It’s not every day you meet someone as gorgeous as you, in their twenties, who’s never… you know.”

“Well, I’m not twenty yet.” I shrug. “At least not until Tuesday. And thank you.”

Jorge scrunches his face over his glass of wine. “For what?”

“The compliment.” I blush.

“Seriously?” he asks. “Have you seen you? EvenI’dhave sex with you.”

“Gee, thanks.” I laugh.

The four of us chat throughout lunch. Even with how different I am to the three of them, I have the most fun I’ve had since arriving in New York City. They are so welcoming, authentic, and real.Especially Jorge, who literally says whatever is on his mind.The time spent with the them passes too quickly, andbefore I know it, we’re all walking toward the waiting SUVs parked along the sidewalk.

Jorge hugs me as we make our goodbyes. “My offer stands.”

“Thanks, but I think I’m going to pass.” I chuckle against his chest, declining his proposal to find a man to get medevirginizedbefore my birthday.

“We’ll see you next week for your birthday lunch.” Layla hugs me and places a soft kiss on my cheek.

“Absolutely.” I squeeze her back, feeling like I’m hugging an old friend instead of a someone I met a few hours ago.

I thank Quinn during the short ride back to the church, grateful to have met some people I truly look forward to spending more time with.

“You are so welcome.” She reaches across the seat to hug me as we approach the church. “I’ll text you about next week.”

Rory opens my door, and as I slide from the Tahoe, I notice Uncle Sean talking with a member of the congregation by the front door of the church. The SUV’s door shutting draws his attention, and I’m immediately met with his disapproving stare. I can vaguely overhear him excusing himself from his conversation as I approach. He is immediately on my heels as I hastily walk through the church toward the courtyard.

CHAPTER SEVEN

CATLIN

“Catlin O’Flaherty,” Uncle Sean sternly calls, following me as I make my way through the church. Ignoring him, I step into the hallway, running behind the altar, and continue toward my residence.

“Catlin Aine O’Flaherty!” he shouts this time as I shove through the doors into the courtyard. His tone, reprimanding me like a child, causes my feet to cement in place. Standing just beyond the threshold, I contemplate letting the heavy door slip from my fingers to make a barrier between us. Instead, I close my eyes and let out a deep breath before turning to face him with a faux-smile.

His brows are lowered, and his lips are tightly pursed, accentuating his firmly disapproving scowl. The gaze boring through me carries the same condemnation. He’s angry. Furious, even.

“I don’t want you associating withthosepeople, Catlin,” he declaims.

“Those people?” I exclaim. “Thosepeople—Quinn, Layla, and Jorge—are the first nice people I’ve met since I got here.”

“I have tried to be subtle about it, but you don’t seem to understand,” he lectures. “You don’t know who they really are. They are not good people. I don’t want you around them.”

Rolling my eyes, I huff. “That’s very Christian of you,Father O’Flaherty.”

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