“Call them out?” I growl. “I’d want to rip their cocks off with a rusty pair of pliers and feed it to them.”
“Ooh!” he exclaims, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “Tell me more.”
“You don’t need to be condescending, you arsehole!”
“I’m not!” he beams, his gaze diverting momentarily when my phone flashes.
A text from Cillian.
He raises an eyebrow. “Boyfriend?”
“I don’t have one. I don’t want one. Men are scum,” I point to my arm. “Case in point!” I huff out a breath. Why is he so easy to talk to? I rarely meet anyone I can talk to like this. Hell, I can’t talk to my brothers without feeling the need to fill in silence. “What does AJ stand for anyway?”
He chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Aiden James.”
I hear a groan from behind me and see Ciara, still in her dress from last night.
“Check your arms,” I tell her as soon as she steps into the room.
She does just that, and we find a needle mark on her forearm. I fill her in while she’s panicking. Nothing like this ever happened to Ciara. Always me. I imagine it’s more of a shock for her.
“You look like shit,” AJ says bluntly, causing Ciara to glare at him. “Bit old to be wearing a dress like that, don’t you think?”
“Aiden!” I growl.
Ciara narrows her eyes to slits when she looks at me. “First name basis now?”
“She can call me Aiden,” he retorts with a smirk.
Ciara rolls her eyes. “And what have I to call you then?”
“I’d prefer you didn’t.” His face is as cold as ice, as he says it.
“You’re an arsehole!” Ciara snarls, leaning over the counter towards Aiden.
“And you nearly got your sister raped,” he counters, his voice dripping with disdain. “All for a free drink, yeah?”
Ciara spins on her heel and charges into the hallway, “We’re leaving!”
“Don’t let the door hit you on the arse on the way out!”
I get to my feet, rubbing my temples. “You had no right to say that to her!”
“Did I say something that wasn’t true?” He holds my gaze, and unsurprisingly, I’m the one who looks away first. “You still look pale,” he remarks, his tone softening slightly. “Are you feeling alright?”
“I’m fine,” I lie. I just want to go home to my bed. I missed my train last night, and now I’ve got to suffer the long journey on public transport while I feel like death warmed up.
“Let me drive you.”
I shake my head, not wanting to rely on him any further. “I’ll order a taxi. Thanks, though. Really.” I barely make it out of the kitchen when he’s spinning me and cornering me against the wall. His face inches from mine, his breath hot onmy skin. “I’m. Driving. You. Home, Katie.”
“I said, I’ll be fine,” I repeat, my voice trembling slightly.
“You’re going to trust Tweedle-Dumb to get you home safely? Who’s she going to call to bring you home, the Taliban?”
“That’s my sister!”
“Then she should have some fucking cop-on!”
