ourselves.”
It was an attractive picture he painted. Normal and kind of sweet and something she’d never have the option of doing. She made a face. “Instead, you wander into my bar because your family’s territory encompasses it and we have a quick fuck in the alley.” She should regret it. She knew she should. There were thousands of dating books and columns out there advising women to withhold sex until they had some sort of commitment.
Except she didn’t regret a damn thing.
She’d seen what she wanted and she’d taken it. It might not have been the perfect version of events they were joking about right now, but there had been something empowering about it all the same.
“I like our way.”
She smiled. “I kind of like our way, too. Simpler.”
“Sweetheart, there’s nothing simple about either of us, but it’s pretty of you to say so.”
She glanced at the clock. There were a good two hours left before she could safely leave him. She propped herself up on one elbow and grabbed the remote. “If I remember correctly, there’s a Justified marathon going on right now. That should keep us occupied until morning.”
“An artful dodge.” He stretched carefully. “That’s fine. Retreat. But don’t forget that you already agreed to a date, and I fully plan on holding you to it.”
As if she was in any danger of forgetting.
* * *
Cillian came out of the shower to find Olivia gone. He’d expected as much, though she hadn’t said she was leaving. He sat on the bed and lay down to stare at the ceiling. What a crazy night. Getting his ass handed to him had been one thing, but everything that happened after almost made it worthwhile.
She’d said yes.
He sat up so fast the room spun around him, but the queasy feeling in his stomach was nothing to the crazy pounding in his chest. She’d agreed to go out with him. He grinned. Hell if that didn’t add a silver lining to a seriously shitty night.
But he had things to take care of before he could even think about setting up a date to do Olivia justice. Their joking last night was just that—joking. He would never be that douche who took a date to some snotty, pretentious restaurant. Especially this date. She deserved a plan for something special.
But right now, his first priority had to be letting his family know where he was. It was tempting to just catch a cab home and slink up to his room while hoping no one noticed his newest fashion statement, but that was the coward’s way out—something he would have done a year ago. Now it was time to face the music and deal with the consequences. He couldn’t tell them it was Halloran men who’d attacked him, but he had to let them know he was attacked. He grabbed his phone. Here goes nothing.
Aiden picked up almost immediately. “Where are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Since you’re calling me, I got that. So I’ll ask again—where are you? I know you’re fucking irresponsible sometimes, Cillian, but you missed a vital meeting this morning. Father’s pissed.”
He looked at the bedside clock and cursed. The Erickson meeting. He’d completely forgotten about it. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Make sure it doesn’t happen again. I don’t care how things were when we were kids—I can’t keep covering for your ass while you’re out being a dipshit. It’s time to step up like you’ve always said you would.”
He gritted his teeth. “I understand. I need a car.” He rattled off the hotel name and street.
Aiden cursed. “Goddamn it, Cillian. I hope she was worth it. You have our father to answer to.”
It was damn near impossible to keep from snapping back, but a year ago, his brother’s assumption that he’d blown off his responsibilities to party would have been right on the money. No one seemed to have noticed that he’d changed after Devlin’s death, that he wasn’t the same asshole who put himself before anyone else. But he understood. All of his siblings were so wrapped up in their own dramas and miseries, it was a wonder they realized he wasn’t where he was supposed to be in the first place.
Their father … Time only seemed to be adding to the weight Seamus O’Malley carried—a weight Cillian had never recognized until he started carrying it himself. It didn’t make the man any less of a bastard, but there was a level of understanding that had never been there before.
He took a deep