Though he did open up to me at lunch the other day about his ex.
‘What happened?’ Cillian gazes at me with that intensity again. I’d almost swear he cares.
I shrug, like it’s nothing, when obviously it’s not. Not when it put me off dating for a whole year. ‘He was married. When I found out, the shame of what I’d done was almost too much to bear. I couldn't even tell my family.’
‘It’s not on you.’ Cillian’s face screws into a ball of disgust. ‘I’m sorry he did that to you.’ His fingers skim over the back of my hand in a fleeting gesture that scalds my skin. ‘Not all men are assholes.’
‘Yeah, some men refuse to entertain the idea of marriage completely.’ I offer him a wry smile. ‘While others are grumpy workaholics.’
‘And others, are struggling full-time parents, without the time or inclination for much else.’ He raises his glass to his lips.
‘Do you really not believe in true love? Soulmates? The concept of marriage or monogamy?’
‘I believe in the principle of monogamy. I’ve just never experienced it myself.’ He stares pensively ahead. ‘And I don’t know anyone who has.’
Wow.
‘You’re in for a treat on Sunday. That’s all I can say.’ The sommelier shoots us a filthy look from the front of the room. ‘Want to get out of here, before we get kicked out for talking?’
‘Probably for the best.’ Cillian stands and pushes his chair back.
We slip out the basement and take the dimly lit stairs to the main hotel bar. Where Elixir was trendy, this bar omits another level of class. The walls are decorated with a silver jacquard paper. The couches lining the edge of the room are low, lustrous, and lilac in colour. The room is light and bright, and overflowing with foliage and potted plants. Climbing vines cascade from ceiling corners, softening the sharp edges of the room.
It’s the first Friday in December so no wonder the place is packed. I nudge my way through to the bar with Cillian right on my heels. As we make our way through the crowd, a tall, fair-haired guy stops right in front of me, blocking my path. ‘Oh my God, is your name Google?’
‘Sorry?’ I stammer, as he towers over me.
‘Is your name Google?’ He winks lasciviously, ‘Because you, honey, are everything I’ve been searching for.’
I burst out laughing at his unabashed cheesiness. ‘And you,honey, are the reason I ensure my computer’s safeguarded by antivirus.’
Cillian steps forward and glares at the guy before placing the palm of his hand on the base of my spine, marking me as his. ‘She’s with me.’
A tingling sensation shoots from my head, all the way to the tips of my toes. My core coils with pent-up need.
‘Sorry, man.’ The guy steps aside and raises his hands in a peace gesture.
Cillian’s palm remains on my back until we reach the bar. His thumb caressing the base of my spine. It’s all I can do not to throw myself at him.
‘What would you like to drink?’ His lips brush my ear as he leans in to be heard.
You.
‘Sex On The Beach.’ Flies out my mouth before I can stop myself.
‘So predictable.’ He shakes his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. ‘You could at least have gone for a Flaming Orgasm.’
‘You know one of my favourite tropes in a romance novel is “Why Choose”.’ Whoops. The wine has definitely loosened my lips.
‘I knew you were going to be trouble when you walked in.’ He cocks his head to the side and smirks, the grouchy mask beginning to slide.
I never had him down for a Swiftie but I suppose he does have a six-year-old daughter. ‘So shame on me now.’
His deep rumbling laugh flips my stomach. ‘Busted.’
He’s educated in romcoms, knows Taylor Swift lyrics, and fills a suit ridiculously well.
He’s like an early Christmas present I never knew I asked for.
