Page 4 of Key Change

Then the edge softened, and Anthony put his hand out as though finding Cillian acceptable. There was no weak grip or sweaty palm, but he looked like he’d rather be bleeding in a tank of piranhas than at the party. Being here was the social equivalent. Everyone was hungry and seeking a juicy morsel of some kind: food, gossip, social status…

Even him.

“Pleased to meet you, Cillian.” Anthony’s voice was deep and soft, and Cillian wanted him to say his name again in a more private setting.

It was another second, or five, before Cillian remembered to release his hand, but Anthony hadn’t released his either. Therazors had become questions. Cillian could think of a few things to ask. Though none were appropriate for the situation.Damn.

His interest was no longer in finding out what Anthony had done, but what his preferred position was. Which was the last thing he should worry about, because Hayden would lose his shit if they hooked up.

Cillian let himself imagine peeling Anthony out of his suit for a moment, all the while wondering if the shitstorm it created was more than he could cope with. He didn’t need the scandal, no matter how attractive.

“I think we can stop being polite about it, Margot. They all know.” Anthony’s lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile, more of a lessening of the tension that had hardened his features.

“I can assure you they don’t.” Cillian smiled, but he’d find out before the night was through. If the brothers hated each other, perhaps Anthony knew something Cillian could use to get free.

Mutually assured destruction.

For the first time, there was a glimmer of something inside him. Not hope… perhaps it was just lust?

He needed to smother that, though the way Anthony was looking at him didn’t help. He glanced at Margot, but she’d already turned to talk to someone else.

Cillian considered his options—of which there were few. People were watching, so he needed to do more than walk away. Fuck it, might as well give them something to talk about instead of letting them imagine it all wrong. He lobbed the next play back at Anthony and offered his arm as though they were good friends. “Shall we?”

CHAPTER

THREE

Anthony didn’t knowwho Cillian was—though clearly someone of note to be at the party—but he was the kind of man that captured people’s attention. His blond hair was carefully styled, and he was at ease among the rich and powerful and those clawing their way up the ladder.

Where did Cillian fit?

He’d been at Hayden’s wedding, which meant he was one of his brother’s cronies and therefore untrustworthy. Cillian would rip him apart and smile while he did it.

Cillian was smiling now. If Anthony didn’t accept the invitation, he’d be the rude one. There were too many people watching and waiting to see what he’d do. Margot gave him a look that suggested he should take this opportunity and run with it. If he ever wanted to climb his way back into society, he needed to take the first step. This was that step.

He couldn’t loiter at Margot’s side all night. While Hayden had made it clear he wasn’t happy Anthony was there, there wasn’t much Hayden could do about it without causing a bigger scene.

He hooked his arm through Cillian’s. It was an overly formal gesture for the event, but also reassuring, as he wouldn’t make it through this party on his own.

He should be loving it. A party he wasn’t paying for. Better, a party his brother was paying for. He should dive into the booze and food, and enjoy everything that he’d been denied, right down to the company on his arm.

Him being gay wasn’t a secret. It was one of the first things Hayden tried to use against him growing up. Anthony had realized back then he had a choice, either to hide it and live in fear or own it. He’d decided to own it, and Hayden had come off looking like a jerk.

Was Cillian some kind of new ploy? A honey pot so he opened up and spilled something to be used against him?

His stomach tightened, and the anxiety picked at his brain, waiting to pull him under.

Breathe. Listen to the music and the gossip.

Gossip that was probably about him. He scrambled for a distraction. He lowered his gaze, so he didn’t catch anyone’s eyes by accident, and it landed on Cillian’s lips, which were curved in a sharp smile as if he wanted to be elsewhere.

Away from him or away from the party?

When was the last time Anthony had been this close to someone?

His sister didn’t count.

Nor did his shrink or the guards.

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