The words fell like a physical blow across Luch, his face crumpling, and he ducked his head.
“I’m sorry, Faelan. Truly. I would never, ever, want you to feel unprotected in my presence.” Luch took a step back, and my heart cracked even more. “I will give you the space you ask for, and I hope you’ll give me the time I’ve asked for. I … you mean a lot to me, Faelan, and I’m not ready to let you go.”
“You might not have a say in that.” Turning, I began to walk.
“Faelan?”
“Aye?” I turned to stare at him. My entire body trembled with the effort it took not to cry.
“I’m … I’ll be working nights this week. Just so you know. If you don’t hear from me, it’s not because of this.”
Through the years, I’d had enough practice hiding my feelings and pulling my armor around my emotions. It was almost second nature to smooth my features out and pretend indifference as I shrugged and turned, hoping Willow’s dress with the sexy backside was making him question his entire existence as I walked away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Faelan
Lia had called an emergency girls’ night after what she’d seen the night before, and after a day of work where I’d basically operated on autopilot, I found myself tucked on a loveseat inside Bonnie Books, Agnes’s bookstore, which was right around the corner from my practice. I’d been meaning to visit for a while, but I hadn’t exactly had any free time to read of late, not with Luch in my life, and opening my own practice.
But now, it seemed, my nights would be freed up, so a good book might be just what I needed.
“Och, that’s delightful.” Agnes nodded to one of the books I’d picked up from a pile to be reshelved on the table next to me. “Vampires. Hot vampires. Lots of angst.”
“Is that right?” Sophie asked, intrigued, and I passed the book to her.
“Hot vampire sex is not what I need right now.”
“No, what you need is hot make-up sex with your man,” Sophie said, and I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest and dropping my chin into my palm.
“There’s nothing to make up. What’s to be done about it?” I asked.
The group of women sprawled on the couches and floor, everyone picking through books of interest, all studiously ignoring the reason why we’d been called to meet tonight. But now that Sophie had breached the subject, everyone snapped to attention.
“So. Tell us. Go on… just get it out,” Shona insisted. “You’ll feel better for it.”
“I—”
A knock at the door had Agnes hopping up. She wore cottage socks, leggings, a silky sleep tank with lace at the edges, and a fuzzy cardigan that hung loose from her shoulders. She’d dressed for a coorie in, and like me, she lived above her work.
“That’s the food.” Agnes swung the door open to Graham, whose mouth dropped open when he took in the sight of Agnes’s silk top. “Hi, Graham.”
“Um.”
“Eloquent as always, Graham.”
Graham snapped his eyes away from her shirt and held up the two brown bags in his hands.
“It’s just that words leave me when I’m confronted with such beauty.” Graham’s cheeky grin slipped back into place as he looked over Agnes’s shoulder to the women in the room. “And all in one place. A luckier lad, I do not know.I’m just grateful I didn’t send our kitchen help on delivery tonight.”
“Och, wipe that grin off your face. It’s not like we’re having a pajama party, Graham.” Agnes rolled her eyes and took one of the bags from him, crossing the room to put it on the table.
“But if you were …”—Graham’s grin widened—“could you tell me what you’d be doing? In great detail, of course.”
“Of course.” Agnes dropped her voice, all sultry like, and prowled back across the room. Graham’s jaw went slack as she took the other bag with one hand. “First, we’d all change into something much more comfortable…”
“Uh-huh, go on.”
“And then…” Agnes trailed a hand up his chest. Graham’s eyes widened. “We’d kick all the boys out because it’s our clubhouse.”
