Page 58 of The Catalyst

"Watch yourself, crazy man," she snickers before continuing on her way up the stairs. She goes straight to Nigel's room and closes the door.

"Holy shit," Oisin mutters before taking a long drink from his beer bottle.

"How the fuck did you do that?" Charlie asks, but I don't answer him. I don't have the faintest clue what he's talking about.

I didn't do anything but poke the bear.

"Isn't it obvious? She actually likes Ollie. She doesn't like Jordan. Simple as that."

I'm fully aware of what a novel concept that is. People don't like me. Hell,womendon't like me. I'm a scary motherfucker who also happens to be the biggest asshole in this town. I don't expect anyone to like me as a person. I don't even know if these guys like me or just tolerate my presence in general. It could be either, but I can't deny Ronan's assessment, not a single word of it.

CHAPTER 26

BETH

Irun my brush through my hair as I sit on the edge of the bed. I know from past experience that if I don't get every knot out, it will turn into a mat by the morning. It's almost time to dye it again, too.

I started dying my hair red after my dad passed away. I just couldn't stand looking at myself if nothing on me changed. Instead of getting face tattoos, I dyed my hair and my mother has consistently complained about how much she misses my natural hair.

I'm sure she'd appreciate the red hair if she knew tattoos were the alternative.

I plan to get them someday, but not yet. I don't want to get tattoos that don't have meaning. I want them to fill me with positive emotions when I look at them, more than the scars they'll cover up.

I whistle to myself as I keep raking the brush through my hair until it doesn’t snag anymore. I place the brush on the bathroom counter before I walk out into the bedroom, only wearing my pajamas–a ratty old t-shirt and black silk shorts. I grab my phone off the bed and check for any texts or missed calls, but find only Judy’s messages about the cute puppies at the shelter she volunteers at.

Nothing from Nigel.

I shouldn’t be surprised. I haven’t heard from him since he left.

I try not to imagine what he’s doing or rather who. I would have to be an idiot to think he wasn’t up to something nefarious. Why else would none of his friends know where he is or when he’ll be back?

I’m not an idiot. Clearly, my so-called boyfriend is off getting his dick wet with someone else. The novelty of me must’ve worn off.

Maybe that’s why I don’t feel bad about doing the same thing with his best friend in the kitchen.

Payback is a bitch.

A soft whistle disrupts my revelry and my head snaps around. I deny the sensation of my stomach slamming into my heart with every beat just because it’shimstanding in the doorway, leaning against the door frame. His arms are crossed over his chest as his eyebrows nearly dip to the bridge of his nose.

The man is so freakishly large that he has to lean to the side to fit in the cramped space yet doesn’t look out of place at all.

How long has Ollie been standing there?

He’s such a creeper.

I tilt my head, waiting for him to speak. It’s unfair that I’m always the one having to start our conversations. Why can’t he for once?

I toss down my phone before turning to face him.

He motions his head out of the door before putting his finger to his lips, the universal signal for me to stay silent.

Fine. If he wants me to not speak, I can do that.

After all, these walls are thin.

I grab my flip flops and opt to leave my phone behind. I probably won’t need it wherever he’s taking me.

He offers me his hand and I stare down at it for a moment before I bite the bullet and place my hand in his.

---