Julian Kenilworth.
Some posh moneyed bloke from down south who had a clear hard-on for my girlfriend. I tried to make Taran see it, but she insisted they were just friends. It didn’t seem to matter to her that it bothered me this guy was in her dorm room with her alone some nights “studying” or that he couldn’t fucking have a conversation without touching her. Not to mention when Taran wasn’t aware of it, he eyed her tits and arse with a look I knew all too well.
Four months Taran had been off the island.
Four months for her to drift away.
It was like she didn’t need me anymore and was too afraid to tell me.
The thought of losing her made me feel desperate and resentful.
It reminded me of the first person I loved who walked away, like it was easy for him.
“That’s not what I said to the professor,” Taran argued with Julian, a playful smile on her lush mouth.
I had lost all thread of the conversation.
“Oh my bloody God, Taran, you absolutely did.” Julian reached over and squeezed his hand around her thigh … and kept it there.
That was it.
I grabbed his hand and threw it off her.
He blinked at me in shock as Taran froze.
“Mate, if you keep touching my girlfriend’sanything, you and I are going to have a problem,” I bit out in a soft, threatening tone.
Julian blanched, his cheeks turning red. “Sorry. I didn’t … yeah, sorry.” There was a horrible moment of awkward silence, but I didn’t care because I was seething.
Finally, Julian broke it by standing up, bumping into the table as he did. “You know, I think I’ll just head off.” He was gone before anyone could reply.
My girlfriend’s friends looked around at one another with nervous, wide eyes.
Taran sat stiff beside me, her lips pinched. “Can we leave too?”
“Aye, I think that’s best.”
Taran gave her friends a strained smile. “I’ll catch up with you lot later.”
A chorus of feeble goodbyes followed us out of the pub.
As soon as we cleared those doors, Taran whirled on me. “What the actual hell was that?”
Tamping down my temper, I gave her a warning glance. “If some lassie was constantly pawing at me, you would be the first to say something. Or do you not remember telling Kiera Donnelly to get her ‘grubby hands’ off me at the Christmas ceilidh last year?”
Taran harrumphed and stormed away.
Aye, she knew I was right.
Pot calling the kettle black and all that shite.
I followed her but halted when she whipped around, her long hair flying with the movement. She stomped back toward me, cheeks flushed from the cold, her gorgeous dark eyes glittering with annoyance. Christ, it was irritating how beautiful she was when she was pissed off. “That is different. For years, Kiera has made it very clear she’s just waiting on the sidelines for you. Julian is only a friend.”
“Julian wants to fuck you, Taran. Don’t be so naive.” I flicked her a disgusted look as I walked away.
“I told him we’re just friends.”
That stopped me in my tracks. “Are you telling me you know he fancies you?”
