“I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Aha.” Clíodhna’s pointing at me again. “So, youdidkiss.”
And a lot more than that…
The pulse between my legs grows stronger, but squeezing my thighs together does little to salve the ache that man’s cock has left there.
Matthew grunts. “She more than kissed. Want me to go ask him? He’s sitting right there.”
I groan, covering my face with both my palms. They would, too. They wouldn’t think anything of swarming the poor, helpless stranger at the bar and giving him the third degree about banging me in the bathroom.
Glaring at all of them, I widen my eyes, trying to be as threatening as I can manage. “Can we not do this here? He can hear you.”
“Did he make you come, Rhi? That’s really all we need to know.” Aoife has never been good with boundaries or keeping her indoor voice at an indoor level. As the youngest child, she seems to have free rein to just blurt out whatever the hell comes to mind without a second thought about who it might impact.
I roll my lips together, biting down on them so I don’t let out an inappropriate noise at the memory of him playing with my clit, or his balls slapping off me as I white-knuckled the sink. I definitely don’t look over in his direction to see if he’s pretending not to hear me getting the third degree.
“Oh my.” Clíodhna picks up one of the cardboard coasters and fans herself with it. “Yes, yes. He totally did.”
Since I’m not getting away from this conversation any time soon, maybe giving them a little information will get them to shut the fuck up and leave me alone. I hold up two fingers, not saying a word, but it’s enough for my traitorous sisters and best friend to whoop and holler.
So much for getting them to shut up, it’s only gone and made them rowdier.
There’s no way Handsome Man isn’t looking at me. I feelhis amused stare on my face as my sisters exchange high fives, and my best friend leans over the table to pinch both my cheeks.
I hate them all and want the ground to swallow me. Risking a glance over in the man’s direction, my eyes lock with his. He arches a brow, and I offer him the most apologetic look I can give him while my face is literally so hot it feels sunburned.
“We need to buy that man another pint.” Matthew makes a move to stand, but Aoife clamps a hand on his forearm.
“The fuck you will.”
The noise around the table simmers down while Aoife eyeballs the phone on the table as it lights up with an alert. She thumbs the screen. The more she reads, the bigger her eyes get and the more color drains from her face.
“Oh, God. Rhi.” She looks at me, her eyes swimming with fear and sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”
Sorry? What’s she sorry for?
“Has George done something else? Has the social media circus gotten worse?”
She nods. “The two posts have totally blown up, but there’s more, and it’s not George.”
“Not George? Then… who?”
Aoife casts a wary glance toward the bar, and other than a subtle warning bell tinkling in the back of my mind, I’m still not on the same page as she is.
“Before I hand this to you, please keep in mind we are surrounded by people, and your reaction is going to be seen, okay?”
Irritation scratches my skin like a cluster of tiny needles. I don’t like where this is going. I don’t like that I’m in public, sitting when I’m about to see whatever this is. I’m hardly inconspicuous, I’m sitting half cut in a wedding dress in a pub, during the day.
I nod, and she hands me her phone.
As I accept it from her, I find the three birds tattooed on my left collarbone and trace them with my fingers. Sometimes it can help to keep me grounded, but as soon as my eyes land on the Larne Gazette’s top headline, my stomach clenches. There’s no way to ground myself right now.
“Scrum and Done: Bride Bolts, Bounces Back with Bar Snog!”
“Wow. They really nailed it with the click-baity headline, didn’t they?” Clíodhna clucks her tongue.
Turns out, I’d read it out loud for the whole table to hear.
