Page 25 of The Seer

“Back to your question, wouldn’t do what? Flirt or rub my body against him?” she asked. She hadn’t meant for it to sound taunting, but what gave him, a man unwilling to stay in the same room with her for longer than five minutes, the right to warn her away from Creed?

His gaze turned solemn. “Either. You’re the kind ofcailínwho demands commitment. You’ll not be gettin’ it from him.”

“Or you,” she retorted. “And you don’t know me anymore, Fintan Sullivan. Maybe I’m just looking for a good time.”

“I’m wounded you both think I’m a commitment phobe,” Creed said dryly. Bunching up the necklace, he chucked it at Fintan. “I believe this belongs to you.” With a half smile, he winked at Taryn. “Seems I’m not the only one hiding a past with the Sullivans, hm?”

“Nothing to hide,” she replied with a single-shoulder shrug. “We met at one of his concerts. He pretended he was into me to get what he wanted, and then he ghosted me. Now, twenty-something years later, he’s still an asshole.”

“It wasn’t pretend, and you know it,” Fintan growled.

“Yeah, but maybe acting like Creed’s the one with commitment phobia is hypocritical on your part.”

“Time out.” Creed formed a T with his hands. “First, to clarify, I am not a commitment phobe. I simply distrust people in general. Second, I need details about what went down. Fin never said.” He glanced between them before focusing on Fintan.

“He was in a boy band,” Taryn replied, unable and unwilling to keep from mocking Fintan. Sure, she was catty, especially when he looked like death warmed over, but his holier-than-thou attitude rubbed her the wrong way.

“Jaysus! For the last time, it wasn’t a feckin’ boy band!” Fintan staggered into the room and plunked down on the sofa. “Stop spreadin’ that rumor, already.”

She uncrossed her arms and felt his forehead. His skin was cooler to the touch than earlier, but he was still warm. “But it’s so much fun.”

“Will ya tell her, Caldwell?”

Creed shrugged. “We were young and on the heels of the boy-band craze.”

“Aye, but we didn’t jump around the feckin’ stage, shakin’ our arses like a bunch of?—”

“Wait! I remember you!” Taryn gasped at Creed in shock. “The drummer!”

He grinned. “I can understand why you didn’t put two and two together. You only had eyes for our lead singer.”

“Don’t remind me. Clearly, I chose the wrong bandmate.”

“Clearly.” Creed chuckled. “But I remember he was pretty into you, too. To the point he’d refused to stay late for practice and was always disappearing to make a phone call.”

“Yeah, but he turned out to be a royal dick,” she replied, as she shoved away the warm feeling Creed’s words evoked.

“Who ordered this feckin’ shite? I’m right here, aren’t I?” Fintan growled, looking like a sick, surly bear.

And she was relieved he was finally awake. Her stress level had grown by the minute, despite the wall she’d managed to erect.

“Oh, hush. It’s not like I’m a Traveler and can change anything. When did you wake up?” she asked him, taking pity and changing the subject.

“Right before Eoin and Brenna arrived in my room.” When she would’ve backed away, he gripped her forearm and kissed the inside of her wrist. “Thank you, Taryn-Taryn, for trying to help.”

She yanked away, fighting the desire to scrub her wrist on her jeans. Yes, she’d experienced a thrill from the gesture, but it felt too reminiscent of their first few dates. Recalling that time hurt too much.

“Where did they go?” she asked instead.

“To make tea,” he replied with a weary sigh. “Brenna’s got an obsession for all the wee cakes and sandwiches.”

“I’m aware. Okay, if you’re in good hands, I’ll head out.” She’d barely gotten the words out when he lunged forward and dragged her onto his lap.

She squeaked with surprise.

“You’ll not be goin’ anywhere,aoibhneas mo croí.’Tisn’t safe for you out there.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Fintan Sullivan? I’m perfectly fine?—”

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