Cock & Bull - Laura Barnard Page 0,88

like since Orla left.’

Oh shit. The toilet gossip is about me. I gasp but quickly cover my mouth with my hand. I can’t be heard.

‘Yeah.’ She snorts a laugh. ‘It’s sad though. I’ve seen the way she looks at him. I think she really thinks she stands a chance.’

My stomach dips as my bitter reality is discussed.

‘Poor cow,’ the other one says, while having a wee in the cubicle next to me.

They giggle uncontrollably before eventually leaving. I wash my hands, trying desperately to push the sad melancholy in my chest down. I can do this. I haven’t learned anything I didn’t already know. This shouldn’t be some sort of revelation to me.

But then why do I suddenly feel embarrassed? So humiliated that I want to run upstairs and hide away from everyone. The fact they’re all laughing at me behind my back. They’ve known Clooney a hell of a lot longer than me, and they know, without a doubt, that he won’t commit to me or anyone. Orla must have done a real number on him.

Maybe I should ask one of them what happened? But then that would be cheating. I want him to feel like he can confide in me, if he doesn’t what’s the point?

I’m just pulling one of the old men a pint of bitter when Clooney starts pouring a coke beside me.

‘I’ve told Ella we’re locking up tonight.’ He leans into my ear to whisper, ‘I plan on fucking you from behind, over this bar.’

My whole body heats up at the very idea, tingles running up and down my spine. I look at him, his eyes meeting mine with such promise. Dammit, I’m already hot for him. There is no foreplay needed. How can I be upset when the man is a walking sex god who insists on pleasuring me with intense orgasms?

He kisses me on the cheek. I wish he would stop being so sweet, it’s like giving me a hint of what it would be like to truly have him. It hurts more, my heart aching so much it feels like pieces of it are breaking off and filling my lungs, making breathing steadily impossible.

I make a promise to myself. I’ll enjoy it all tonight, but in the morning I’m asking him about Orla. I’m going to be brave and ask him one final time to confide in me. If he chooses not to that’s fine. He’ll have chosen his past instead of his future.

I’ll just have to accept whatever his answer is. Because I know if I let it go on any longer than this I am going to be broken by this man. And I can’t risk that. Not even for Clooney Breen.

Chapter Forty-Five

Sunday 1st November

I wake up dreaming of Clooney pounding into me over the bar. When I feel him grabbing at my boob and feel the tenderness down below I realise it wasn’t a dream. It was a delicious reality.

Except today I’m going to ruin it. Do I really want to do this? I know I don’t, not really, but I need to know. Its long enough of us being together that I think I can ask this of him. I need to know if he’s in this for real or if he’s just along for the ride. Literally.

‘Morning,’ he croaks into my ear. Even his voice sets my body on fire.

I wiggle round in his arms to face him, running my hand down his cheek. I want to commit his beautiful face to memory. After asking him this he might run for the hills. I mean, I hope he doesn’t but I have to be realistic.

I take in those beautiful forest eyes, his strong stubbled jawline, those prominent cheek bones. He really is sex on a stick. Remind me why I want to do this again? Oh, that’s right. Protect my heart. It’s already breaking in anticipation.

He kisses me and it feels delicious yet so bittersweet, I decide I can’t wait any longer.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asks as he pulls away, stroking my hair off my forehead, his eyes narrowed with concern.

‘I’m sorry. It’s just…’ I swallow down the panic. ‘I need to know.’

He frowns. ‘Need to know what?’

I blow out a breath. Be brave. ‘I need to know what happened between you and Orla.’

His eyes widen to nearly twice the size as he sits up, already pulling away from me.

‘What? Orla? What are you going on about?’ He swings his legs off the bed, running his hands through