one
TWO WEEKS BEFORE THE COLORADO TRIP
GRAY
“How crazy has this day been?”Gray asked Mags and Blair as she fell onto the sectional where her friends were currently lounging. It wasn’t as comfy as the girls’ couch, but since they’d been asked to vacate their townhouse next door for the night, the slightly odiferous sofa would have to do.
Since finding out that their best friend, Bébhinn O’Faolain, had been stalked for almost two years, and that the freaky bastard had hidden a camera in the home they shared, specifically in Bébhinn’s bedroom, Gray and her roommates were staying with their guy friends until Gray and Blair’s fathers had their security company go through the whole house.
Gray shivered at the trauma her friend had been put through. The invasion of Bébhinn’s privacy was horrifying.
The stalker, a teacher from TU of all things, had been arrested. At least Bébhinn would have peace knowing the wacko was behind bars. Still, they were all feeling uneasy that he’d been in their house. Gray had even met him. He was a member of Bébhinn’s hiking club there in Dublin.
Her dad, Thomas MacGregor, and Blair’s dad, Coll Barr, owned the security company that had installed their own system in their old townhouse. The two fathers were pissed that someone had been able to plant a separate camera inside the house without their knowledge.
So, it was no surprise to her or her friends that they were getting a newer, much more elaborate system installed in the morning, which was why they were forced to sleep at their next-door neighbor’s place. Not Bébhinn, of course, her new man—an older, very hot new man—got them a room at the Fitzwilliam while they were stuck having a stinky sleepover with Bébhinn’s cousins, Daniel and Jonathan O’Faolain, and Ciar Murphy, the third roommate and family friend. She honestly didn’t mind. Bébhinn needed privacy and time away to heal.
All three of them were playboys, out with different women every other night. Still, the seven of them managed to be best friends. Their Irish, and American cultures blending seamlessly, and Russian on Ciar’s part.
Mags and Blair, being much shorter than Gray’s five-foot-nine, took the living room couches as their bed—the lucky bitches—but she was given Ciar’s room while he would sleep on Jonathan’s couch. Ciar was in his room now “tidying up,” but the Lord knows what that entailed.
She was prepared to wrap a bath towel around her body if the sheets didn’t look fresh. A shiver of disgust raced down her spine as pictures of cum stains peppering the bedding danced before her eyes.
Blair was lounging by her feet, so Gray nudged her with her toe to get her attention. Blair was deaf, and it was second nature to let her know by touch if she was about to speak. They all learned sign language as small children, and even though Blair was an excellent lip reader, it was dark outside, and the living room lights were low.
Gray signed, “Do you think Bébhinn is going to be okay?”
Blair sighed and rubbed her eyes. They were all exhausted. “It might take her a while, but she’s strong. I know the camera,” she winced, “was such a violation, but I think Dagr will help her move past it faster than anything else can.”
“Blair’s right,” Mags joined the conversation, stretched out on the longer of the couch sections. “As crazy as today’s revelations have been, I imagine Dagr’s giant dick will make everything feel better.”
“Jesus, Mags,” Daniel growled as he walked into the living room. “Please keep my aunt’s name and dick out of the same sentence.”
The O’Faolains were a convoluted mess of family tree branches. Daniel swiped Mags’ legs from the couch and sat down with a sigh. Jonathan joined soon after and sat by Gray, scooching Blair’s feet over and dropping an armload of sheets, pillows, and blankets for the girls to make up the couch.
Last to join the tired group was Ciar. “I’ve pulled an extra blanket from the cupboard. We tend to keep the house freezing at night.”
“And are the sheets questionable?” Mags questioned.
Gray swore that Ciar’s cheeks pinkened at the razzing. Daniel spoke up then. “Ciar’s never had a woman home. Isn’t that right, Murphy?”
Gray felt her brows raise in disbelief. All three guys were serious whores, so this news came as a surprise.
“Fuck off, Dan,” Ciar cursed. “I’ve an early morning meeting, so I’m off to bed. You better have cleaned off the shit covering your couch, Jon.”
“I did, ye grouchy bastard,” Jonathan mouthed back.
Had Gray not been watching, she would have missed Ciar’s wince. It was there and gone so quickly, she might have thought it was a trick of the shadows. Sad to admit, but she’d watchedCiar enough over the years that she’d learned his tells, and he didn’t care for Jonathan’s comment. At all.
Gray stood and thanked Ciar for lending her his room. “I’m to bed as well. Thanks for giving up your bed to me, Ciar. Night, everyone.” The girls hopped up and called dibs on Daniel’s bathroom, and with goodnights all around, Gray pressed down the handle of Ciar’s bedroom door and entered his space for the first time ever.
It was tidy but definitely rocked his laid-back vibe. From the abstract, modern paintings to the plush wool rug covering most of the refinished wood floor, the black and cream theme screamed Ciar. He had a small painting on a stand on his desk that was different than the other art hanging on the walls.
It was a six-by-six oil painting, in grayscale, of a landscape. She bent forward, trying to decipher the location. “Russia,” Gray muttered, which made sense. Ciar’s mother was Russian, though he had never spoken of her.
Gray used his en-suite bathroom before climbing into the crisp white sheets covering the massive, extra-large king-sized bed. Ciar was tall like Daniel and Jonathan but more heavily muscled. The guys were always razzing him for how many hours he spent in the gym.
Muscled and tattooed head to toe…delicious. She shook her head at where her thoughts had wandered. Yes, Ciar was handsome. His dark hair and darker eyes had mesmerized many a woman. Gray refused to be one of them.
