“OkayI’ll think aboutmore.” Her gaze strokes down the length of me, halting on my dick.
Even though my mood is all over the fucking place, somehow, her attention gets me hard. It’s like she just used magic to tug on my flesh and swell it.
“Thank you for tonight.” She turns and unlatches the camper door.
It swings open, activating the light sensors of the parking lot, flooding the camper with too much brightness.
“Do you still want Malachi?”
She lingers there a moment, head turned away. “I’ve known you for a week, Cillian. I’ve known Mal my whole life.”
“That’s not what I asked, Electra.”
“That’s all the answer you’ll get from me tonight.” She steps out of the camper. “Goodnight.”
I finally snap out of my funk and swipe my sweatpants off the floor. “Wait. I’ll drive you home.” I almost fall as I work my pants up my legs. “Electra, wait!”
But the stubborn girl doesn’t wait.
I jam my glasses on my nose and scramble out of the camper, shoeless and shirtless, my mother’s ring kicking my pecs like a drumstick.
“Electra?” I shout.
But she’s gone.
Gone back to fucking Malachi.
Chapter 29
Electra
Cillian’s only message to me—sent the morning after—scrolls through my mind: “Still thinking?”
Even though the man’s relentless, he hasn’t followed up with anything else. Could be because I still haven’t answered him.
Seventy-two hours later, Iamstill thinking.
About how I lost my virginity to a guy I wouldn’t have looked twice at before the gala. And how incredible my first time was—overwhelmingly so—which had brought on the tears.
I’d blamed them on his girth and my torn hymen when they had nothing to do with that and everything to do with my loss of command over my silly heart. Would I have confessed had his stupid phone not rung? Probably not. However, I wouldn’t have turned it into my getaway excuseeither.
I’m still thinking about Malachi and the death of my decade-long crush. How can something that monumental fade and leave nothing behind? I’d thought he was the love of my life. Turned out he was just some juvenile obsession.
An obsession that turned into an irritation when he yelled at me about the irresponsibility of going off with a virtual stranger without taking my phone. When I’d cracked a joke that,thankfully, I’d taken my runes along, Malachi hadn’t laughed. I had… Until he brought up the fact that Cillian was homeless, human, and therefore not to be trusted.
That had ticked me off. Mainly because it had led me to reassessmytrust in Cillian.
I was already wary, because he made me feelthings—all sorts of things. Things he might use to exploit my vulnerability, the way my mother had.
So, yeah, seventy-two hours later, I’ve left him on read. And it’s eating me alive.
I let my frustration and indecision fuel the swing I take at my brother’s focus mitt. Although Dorian doesn’t fall back, it does cause his elbow to recoil.
“I heard Monta invited you to his ranch in Texas,” he says, out of the blue.
Sweat trickles past my browbone as I throw another jab into his mitt. I’m almost glad he brought up Gael, if only to give my mind a reprieve from Cillian.
“Are you considering going?”
