could sit on top of a cake. This is a reaction to what I’ve done. A childish, over-the-top reaction that pisses me off as much as it turns me the fuck on. I’m messed up, I know, but I’m walking the line here.
“Hazel,” I force out as I approach, getting her attention before I wrap my hand around her upper arm. “You need to come with me.”
She turns to me with half-lidded eyes, a drunken smile on her face. “I’m just here trying to have some fun, Cillian,” she slurs, carefully annunciating each syllable of my name. “Am I not allowed to have fun anymore?”
“Not when you’re under twenty-one and could get my parents’ liquor license revoked.”
She sucks in her breath, her eyes going comically wide as she giggles. “Oh, well we wouldn’t want that, would we? Work is far more important to the Kelly’s than people.”
“That’s not fair,” I growl, urging her to follow me. She pulls back.
“No. It’s not fair, is it?” she spits. “But I suppose a child like me will never understand.”
“Hey, buddy, leave the young lass alone. She’s here with us,” one of the guys at the table says.
I narrow my gaze at him. “Don’t fucking start me. She’s here for me. And she’ll never be here for anyone else. So look somewhere else or I swear to god, I’ll throw you out on your ass for just thinking about looking at her.”
He scoffs. “Big words. But can you back them up?”
I release Hazel for a second and remove my chef's coat, popping my biceps as I glare at him. “I think I can,” I say, and he holds up his hands.
“Yep. Looks like you can. Feel free to take her wherever you like,” he says, backpedaling quickly.
“That’s what I thought,” I grunt, taking hold of Hazel’s arm again and pulling her into the kitchen and up to the apartment above.
She complains the entire way.
“If this is your way of trying to show me how grown up you are, it’s had the complete opposite effect,” I grumble, corralling her into the bathroom where I fill a cup with water and hold it out to her. “Drink it.”
“I’m not thirsty.” She juts out her chin and laughs in that way only drunk people do. I clench my jaw. She smells like a brewery, but she’s still fucking gorgeous.
“Drink it,” I command, forcing it into her hand.
“Fine, Mr. bossy pants,” she mutters, tipping the cup back and drinking so fast water runs down her chin. She’s a mess.
“Come here.” I dampen a washcloth and wipe it off. I wipe the whole lot off, actually. The red lips, the blushed cheeks and smokey black rings surrounding her eyes. And with each careful stroke, my Hazel slowly reappears. “You don’t need this stuff to impress people, Hazel. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
“Not perfect enough,” she whispers, tears swimming in her eyes.
“That’s not true,” I whisper, cupping her face in my hands and I swipe my thumbs under her eyes, catching her tears. I want her so bad right now it hurts.
“Then why don’t you want me?”
“Hazel,” I say, closing my eyes as I step away, putting some much-needed distance between us.
“See,” she whispers. “Case in point.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Hazel,” I yell, glad for the noise of the pub below us and the fact my parents spend their Saturdays anywhere but here.
“What!” she yells back.
“I want you! All right? I want you. Are you happy?”
“No!” she yells. “Because you won’t take me. You won’t take me because you care more about your job than care about me.”
“Fuck, Hazel! Don’t you get it? I have been working towards this for eighteen years. Do you understand that? I decided to be a chef when I was fifteen. For every day that you’ve been alive, I have been working toward having a restaurant to call my own. Do you seriously want me to give that all up because you want this to happen, right here, right now?”
“Yes! I do! Because I can’t stand it anymore, Cillian. I can’t stand feeling like I’m nothing but an imposition to everyone around me. I’m either in the way, or I’m a burden. And for once, Cillian, for once, I want to be someone’s number one. Their first choice. Their only choice.”
She jabs her finger into her chest, tears streaming down her face as we stare at each other, chests heaving. Then all at once, something snaps inside me and we’re not staring anymore.
My hand