The sharp knock on the window of my car scared me. I yelped and moved back to see a massive shadow standing outside.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I said, stepping out of the car and glared at Cillian, my childhood best-friend. “You scared me, you asshole.”
“Who were you texting?” He asked, as a way of greeting, giving me a half hug.
I was going to stay at his and his wife’s mansion for the night. But I didn’t think that the shithead would scare me for turning up uninvited.
“No one,” I said, ignoring his look. “Really. No one.”
“You’re lying, but I know you’re dating someone.”
I stared at him, narrowing my eyes. He copied my actions, and I couldn’t believe he was the same guy who feared lizards and screamed so loud during the third-grade school picnic that his nickname was ‘Scaredy Cillian.’ Yeah, third-grade students weren’t that creative.
“I will tellahjumayou scared me,” I said, mentioning his mother, who loved me like his own son.
“You parked your car in my garage, interrupting me and my wife.” He looked me up and down. “You deserve it.”
I ran a hand through my hair and followed him to the kitchen. It was turning into a habit. Me driving to his place whenever I had life issues and him cooking for me. I removed my suit jacket and tie, greeting Emma, Cillian’s wife and owner of the mansion.
She was glowing in a pastel colored robe, and they looked adorable standing side by side. Cillian was massive and looked menacing in black tee shirt, sweatpants, tattoo sleeves, but he turned somewhat adorable whenever she was standing by his side.
“I didn’t know you were going to visit us today,” she said, watching her husband cook ramen for us. “You could have had dinner with us.”
“Aw, Emma, you’re too sweet to your brother-in-law,” I said, sincerely meaning it. “I always wanted a little sister like you. If you want anything, let me know,oppawill buy it for you.”
I was pouring oil on the fire. But by the glare from Cillian, I knew it was working.
“Never ever call him,oppa, Doll,” he said, stirring the pot. “He is evil.”
“I was eyeing the new collection from Vivienne Westwood,oppa,” Emma said, giggling when Cillian glared at her.
I raised my brow when she ran around the island with Cillian chasing after her. It was entertaining and reminded me of Chelsea. Shaking my head, I stood up and inspected the pot of boiling water, ignoring the loud giggles, fake growls and smooching coming over my shoulder.
I sighed. I shouldn’t sulk since I was the one who came over without letting them know. I wanted something like what they had. I thought Liza would bethatperson for me. Someone who I could love without scaring her away.
But over-watering a plant will eventually kill it.
She must have gotten so suffocated with my love that it wasn’t enough for her.
“You have to stir the noodles,” Cillian said, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Oh, yeah,” I mumbled, stirring them with cooking chopsticks.
I heard Emma say something about having fun during the boys’ night before leaving us alone. I was inspecting the broth of the noodles when a sharp pain ran through my right side.
“What the fuck?” I said to Cillian, rubbing the spot where he had punched me. “Why did you punch me?”
“Because you’re sulking in my kitchen after my wife called youoppa.”
“You can’t be serious about that,” I said.
He raised his brow. “Would you like it if your ‘Princess’ called meopparight in front of you, hm?”
The thought of Chelsea, with her doe eyes and cute smile, blinking up at scary Cillian to call himoppamade me want to yell and punch a wall.
“No,” I said, and he nodded.
“That’s what I thought.”
