Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
I’m struck dumb for a moment, like I can’t figure out how to use my voice. It’s not the first time Cillian has said something like that to me, but I don’t think it’s something one really gets used to—at least not in only a few weeks. There’s no way everything with him should feel so big, so intense and…vital in such a short amount of time, but it does.
I nod, and he leans over and kisses me. “Now go be a good boy while I go be a very bad boy. I’ll see you soon.”
My stomach is in knots as I open the car door and get out. I stop, turn to look at him, and say, “Be careful.”
Cillian winks. “I’m always careful. Now go inside. I’m not pulling away until you’re in there.”
I roll my eyes but bite back a smile. It’s…much nicer than I thought it would be to have someone be so protective of me. I’m already getting to where I have to remind myself I’m not supposed to like it.
I close the car door and walk inside. True to his word, Cillian doesn’t leave until I’m there.
The second I walk behind the counter, everyone starts to clap for me. There’s a bundle of balloons, a big one in the middle that says welcome back.
“Wow…I don’t know what to say.”
“You’re a hero, Ollie,” my manager says.
“We’re all so proud of you,” Lacy, one of my coworkers, adds.
“It’s good to have you back,” another adds.
I thank them and offer up hugs to those I know would be comfortable with it. This is why I came back. This is what I’m fighting for. I want a normal life, not to stay locked in my house all the time because I’m afraid.
I find I’m less nervous than I thought I would be once I start making pizzas. It’s easy to lose myself in the monotony of this work I know by heart. At some point, though, Lacy drops a pan, the loud bang nearly making my heart jump out of my chest. I must have made a sound because when I look her way, her eyes are wide.
“I’m so sorry, Ollie.”
“No, no. I’m fine. I’m just…jumpy.” It’s normal to be jumpy after something like this. It’s normal and doesn’t mean I’m weak, I remind myself.
But the closer I get to the end of the night, the more nervous I become. It’s not like I expect them to come in guns blazing. Plus, Cillian will be here to pick me up. He’s not going to let anything happen to me.
The kitchen is right behind the front counter, open for customers to see us and for us to see the people coming in. It’s about half an hour before we close when the door opens…Cillian and Rory walking in.
All my nerves and worries dissipate, the relief flooding my body and leaving me weak in the knees.
Our eyes meet, and when Cillian grins, I know everything will be okay.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Cillian
“Hit me,” I tell Ollie as we stand in the backyard at the house. He’s been back at work for a week now. I drop him off and pick him up after every shift. We’ve had someone watching the warehouse where the guys who hurt him work, trying to figure out their schedule, as they come and go pretty erratically. It’s been killing me to wait, but Tiernan is right—going in there half-cocked, without a plan or knowing who is there and when, isn’t smart.
“What? I’m not going to hit you!”
I give him a cocky, playful grin. “I know.”
“But you just said…” His mouth drops open when he gets what I’m saying. “You asshole! You don’t think I can hit you!”
I laugh. God, he’s so fucking cute. “I feel like I’m a bad influence on you. You’re cursing more.”
“I’ve always cursed. Just not a lot. And I rarely say the f-word. You say it enough for both of us.”
“It’s my favorite word.” I hook my finger in his belt loop, tug him closer, and kiss him. “Now try to hit me.”
“I’m not going to—” Ollie swings instead of finishing his sentence, but I block the punch. “How did you know?”
“You looked down at your hand before you hit me. Don’t do that. Plus, you look nervous as shit.”
“Well, I am nervous! I’m not you and Dean. I don’t just walk around hitting people I care about.”
Last year, Dean got pissed at me when we were in their dorm and punched me in front of Ollie, who had been obviously confused because after we’d gone at each other, we’d left together to go to a bar. “He hit me first every time!”
“Not the point. Plus, I don’t know how to try and hit you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Jesus, my heart suddenly feels like a mushy bowl of oatmeal. What is it with this guy? As wild as it sounds, that’s not something I’ve ever really thought about. I mean, obviously, I wouldn’t want to hurt him, but hurting people has been a part of my life for so long, I don’t even think about it in that way. Violence is just a thing I do. It’s a means to an end. That’s not healthy, and I understand it’s not a good thing, but it’s also not something that’ll ever change. “If I have it my way, you won’t ever have to hurt anyone, okay? And how about for today, we focus on me showing you how to throw a good punch, and then some defensive moves. Does that work?”