“I’m fine. It doesn’t bother me.” Though it kinda does.
Ollie cutely continues to give us a pep talk about our futures and hard work paying off, and it’s interesting to see how Rory interacts with him. How much softer he is with Ollie than with anyone else. There are so many shades to this man, so many bits and pieces of him I didn’t expect.
It doesn’t take long before Ollie is pulling down a driveway, only the house at the end looks nothing like mine. It’s fucking huge—all white, nestled in the trees, and way too fancy for someone like me.
The front door opens when we pull up, and Cillian comes out.
“He’s worried,” Ollie says.
“About Shai being here?”
“No. I didn’t text him to tell him about that. Just about you.”
What is there to worry about when it comes to Rory? He seems fine to me.
“Did you also yell at him about going to class?” Rory asks.
“No. He went. We both did.”
Rory and Ollie step out of the car as Cillian walks over. “You good?” I hear him ask before I open the door, and his gaze snaps to me, blue eyes blazing with distrust. “What the fuck is he doing here?” Cillian asks.
“I brought him,” Rory answers.
“No shit. Did you talk to T?” Cillian eyes me while speaking to Rory.
“I will,” Rory answers, then gets my guitar from the trunk.
“Good to see you again too,” I tell Cillian, and Rory laughs while Ollie groans.
Ollie laces his fingers together with Cillian’s, the other man clearly seething but trying to control himself.
With my guitar in hand, Rory walks straight over to Cillian, grabs the back of his head, and presses their foreheads together. “I’m fine. I want him. It’s not a big deal.”
My pulse races in a way I can’t decipher.
“Fine,” Cillian replies. He’s a dick. There’s no denying that, but I can’t say that his devotion—to Rory, to Ollie, hell, probably to their whole crew—isn’t sewn into everything he does or says.
“Let’s go, pet.”
“On my way, Cherry,” I reply, making sure to use my nickname for him as well.
Ollie grins, then wraps his arms around Cillian, who stands there, watching us, like we’re an equation he can’t solve.
That’s one thing he and I have in common. I don’t know what this is with Rory either. I just know I want it. I so rarely get what I want in my life, and I’m not walking away from this until I have to.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Rory
Ibring Shaiup to my room as soon as we arrive at the house. I’ll need to have a conversation with Tiernan, and it’s not likely to go well, but I don’t regret what I did. He has Dean, and Cil has Ollie. Can’t I at least have a toy to play with for a while?
“Do you want to smoke a bowl?” I ask, sitting on my bed, my forest-green bedding messy. My bong rests on the nightstand, and my backpack, with both Shai’s and my guns in it, is on the floor.
He points to the little silver platter by the lamp. “How often do you do this?”
“You want coke? I can get you a bump.”
“Nah, not my thing.” He collapses to the bed. “My dad is a cokehead. He’s always sniffing that shit up his nose.”
