uncomfortable.”
When I looked at him again,I found him studying my face, expression soft. “You haven’t. Not at all. I’m just . . . unaccustomed.”
“Unaccustomed to girls admitting they have crushes on you?” I attempted a lighthearted laugh but it came out really awkward, more bark than chuckle. “I have a hard time believing that.”
“Well,” he said, stepping back and shrugging a little apologetically, “it’s true. As I mentioned, Portia is the only woman I ever . . . that is to say, there’s been no one else.” He ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Aside from the fact that this is a work meeting and we’ve only just met, there is that consideration. I feel a bit out of my depths here.”
I gaped at him, at Niall Stella, the unexpected flirt with a body that screamed I’ve-Had-All-of-the-Good-Sex-in-the-World , who stood before me reminding me that he’d been with one woman his entire life. I knew he’d met Portia when he was young but it hadn’t really sunk in until now that he’d only ever been with her. No high school manwhoring. No college years full of wild shagging. No early twenties with a different woman every night. Zero oats sowed.
I could practically feel my synapses reorganizing.
“So, you see,” he said, smiling a little, “if you’ve any interest in me at all, you’ll need to come into it knowing I’m driving quite blind.”
And right then, when I expected him to hold his gaze to mine, to take my hand andsqueeze it, or do any other human thing to hold the moment, or at least acknowledge that a moment occurred , he blinked away, turned to his desk, and began reading a report until I mumbled something about needing to usethe ladies’ room, and left.
S IX
Niall
Come meet us for a pint.
I’d only just returned to my room, my mind and gut in a twist, when the text from Max arrived. The only thing I wanted more than to fall face-first into my mattress was a pint.
In fact, what I wanted most was to be with Ruby.
How is it possible , I thought, to have become infatuated in a matter of days? In a space of time that could still be easily measured in hours?
There was a tiny part of me that seemed to be expanding, doubling inside my rib cage every day. This secret space, an unexplored romantic nucleus, told me the reason Ruby had burrowed so easily in my mind and under my skin was meaningful. And not because she was a rebound, or a distraction, but because she fit me. I wanted to trust this tumbling sensation I had near her not because the feeling was familiar, but because it wasn’t .
And yet, when given the chance to explore things,I’d immediately closed up.
Best to bury my nose in a pint.
The blokes were down at Knave again, almost as if it was their regular haunt. I knew better; I knew my brother well enough to know he was going out of his way to keep an eye on me. That he could sense something was off in my mood.
He and the lads were seated around the same low table we’d inhabited the other evening, each halfway into a cocktail and snacking on the smattering of appetizers on the table. It was nearly eleven, and I hadn’t eaten.
“Be a good chap and look to the side while I polish off the lot,” I joked, sitting down next to Max and reaching for a small handful of mixed nuts.
He laughed. “Figured you’d be famished.”
“What,” Bennett asked, looking around as if searching, “no Ruby? I have to admit I’m a little disappointed.”
“Ah . . .” I started, and then put an entire slice of bruschetta in my mouth to avoid answering.
“Think she might want a bite to eat?” Will asked.
Swallowing, I mumbled, “Frigging hell, you’re all subtle. I’m sure she ordered in. And since we’re on the subject of women: why are you lot constantly on me? I don’t see your women around anywhere.”
“Careful what you wish for,” George said. “Chloe the Barbarian is meeting us here.”
“Chloe the—I’m sorry, are you talking
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