Wild Irish

by C. M. Seabrook

  I grunt, my throat tightening, because I know she’s right.

  “Owen started yelling at her. She started crying, changing her story the second she thought other people could hear. One of the men she’d come in with threw a punch. It wasn’t meant to do the damage it did, but like I said, he’d been drinking, and he fell funny. Hit his head hard on the bar.”

  I don’t want to believe her. But I do.

  “Shit.” My body is trembling as I run my fingers over my face.

  “I know ye, Cillian. I’ve known ye for a very long time. And I know there’s not a bad bone in yer body. But ye were wrong this time.”

  I see that now, so clearly I don’t know how I missed it before. Molly had always been the jealous type, accusing me of things I hadn’t done. And our relationship had been strained near the end. She hated when I had to travel with the band. She’d begged me to cancel the North American tour. Looking back, it’s not that surprising that she sabotaged it.

  “I’m sorry,” I mutter.

  With a heavy sigh, Emer walks across the room and places her hand on my shoulder. “I hope he gets the chance to hear ye say it to him.”

  I wince, and she lets her arm drop. “I’ve been here for two days. I’m going to go home and shower. I’ll be back later. Aiden should be here soon.”

  With my head spinning about my brother, I’d nearly forgotten about him…about Delaney.

  Where is she now?

  Or more importantly, who is she with?

  The thought of her with that asshole in the coffee shop makes my stomach clench. But I knew when I saw her face, the confusion and the denial, that the man wasn’t who he claimed to be.

  I was too hard on her, wanting, or rather needing, to feel anger rather than the sense of loss at the potential of losing her.

  “Emer, wait.”

  She stops at the door.

  “Can ye ask Aiden to bring Delaney with him when he comes? I need to talk to her before she leaves.”

  Her brows draw down. “She’s already gone. Aiden dropped her off at the train station a couple hours ago.”

  I exhale slowly and rub my hand across my face, then nod. “It’s for the best.”

  Emer shakes her head. “Like I said, ye may just be the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.”

  Chapter 25

  Delaney

  Four Months Later

  Coming home wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be.

  My heart still aches every time I think of Cillian. I see his face in my dreams, and hear his voice in my thoughts. And both my heart and body ache for him constantly.

  But I’m stronger now. The weight I’d been carrying my entire life has been lifted. I made my peace with my sister, with her loss, and with my own guilt.

  I’ll never regret following her dream to Ireland. Or meeting Cillian.

  I don’t know if what I felt for him was…is love. It’s not an emotion that’s measurable. But I know I’ll never be satisfied with anything less than what I had with him.

  But I’ve started to fill my time with other things that make me happy.

  I registered for a photography class at the college, and I’ve started to hang out with a few of my old friends again. I even got a roommate. And a tattoo.

  The roommate was easy. I’ve known Kiersten since the fifth grade. She’s a bit wild, and talks too much, but she’s fun and helps pay the rent. Which is good, because the only job I could get since being home is a barista at the coffee shop a few blocks from my apartment.

  The tattoo has harder. Not only because I hate pain, but because I wanted something significant. I ended up designing it myself. Written in white and pink ink across the inside of my left wrist are the words Find Your Happiness. A reminder that it’s a choice – to be happy.

  I run my finger across the words and smile.

  “I love it,” Kiersten says, peering over my shoulder. “I’ve never seen a white tattoo before. But why get something that’s barely noticeable?”

  “It’s for me. I can see it.”

  She shrugs and sits on the other end of the couch, placing the pizza box she was carrying between us.

  Tonight, we’ve made plans to watch a corny romance movie, eat pizza and ice cream, and finish off the box of white wine in the fridge. Anything to help me not think about Cillian, which has become increasingly more difficult over the past couple of weeks, since his face has been everywhere.

  As popular as Wild Irish was over in Ireland, it’s nothing compared to the recent attention they’ve gotten here.

  His picture is everywhere. Magazines. Posters. Newspapers. There was a whole article written up in People Magazine about them. I tried not to read it, but Kiersten brought the damn thing home with her. It was sitting on our coffee table for a week before I caved.

  I laughed and cried while I read it. It talked about all four of the men. Their strengths, their loves, their favorite foods and colors. The article didn’t dig too deep. It didn’t even mention Owen’s injury. But I assume he recovered fully, since their tour was still scheduled to start soon.

  There was a full page devoted to Cillian. The camera loved him. The photo they chose was him with his guitar sitting on a cliff overlooking the ocean, gaze focused on the horizon with his signature brooding look.

  I wonder what he was thinking about. If he ever thought of me. Or if Aiden had ever told him about Matt. Did he still hate me, or had he realized he’d been wrong?

  My stomach does a somersault when I take a small bite of pizza. I’ll probably never know.

  “What do you think?” Kiersten asks, brows drawn up like she expects an answer.

  “About what?”

  She rolls her eyes. “The concert. Do you want to go? I hear these guys are really good. And they’re hot, too.”

  “What concert?”

  “Wild Irish. I got two tickets. It’s next Friday night.”

  Next Friday.

  I just stare at her, blinking.

  I knew Chicago was on their tour schedule, but I didn’t realize how soon they’d be here.

  “I…” Swallowing past the new lump in my throat, I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why?”

  I didn’t tell Kiersten about Cillian. It’s the one thing about the trip I kept to myself. Matt did though. Not that he ever used Cillian’s name, or mentioned the band, but he was quick to let everyone know that I’d gone to Ireland and hooked up with a guy—or multiple guys, depending on who he told.

  “Hello?” Kiersten waves her hand in front of my face. “Why the heck not? You said you loved Ireland. I thought you’d love these guys.”

  I should just say no. Instead, I give a small nod, regretting it the moment I do.

  Kiersten’s face brightens. “Great.”

  My stomach twists again, and I pray that my heart will be able to handle seeing him again, even from a distance. But maybe this is exactly what I need for closure. Or maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment.

  Chapter 26

  Cillian

  I’m a fucking coward. I know it. But hell if I’m willing to do anything about it.

  Aiden and Emer have been on me for months to call Delaney. And I’ve tried. Even punched her numbers in my phone. I’ve just never had the balls to let it ring.

  And now it’s too late.

  I know I hurt her. Saw it in her eyes the day I told her to leave.

  Asshole.

  Looking back, I know it wasn’t even betrayal that I felt. It was jealousy. That another man had touched her, that he claimed she was his. It stirred something in me I’ve only ever felt with Delaney.

  A primal possessiveness that I knew would destroy us both.

  So, I let her go. Or rather, I pushed her away before she finally saw the truth – that she was too damn good for me.

  “We’re boarding now.” Owen nudges my leg, nodding to the flight attendant that’s starting to check tickets.

  Aiden and Shane already have th
eir passports out, and the way they’re muttering in hushed tones and glancing in my direction, I know they’re talking about me.

  “Ready?” Owen asks, standing, and grabbing his carry-on.

  I nod, doing the same.

  We still haven’t talked about the shit that went down with Molly. When he came out of the coma and saw me beside his bed, I knew he understood. I’d fucked up by believing he’d betrayed me. And I’d squandered months of my life hating him for something he didn’t do.

  I could have wasted words on apologies and regrets. But I didn’t. Maybe I should have. There’s still an underlying tension between us. I don’t know if we’ll ever get back to the way things were before.

  Owen rubs his temples and winces.

  “You okay?”

  “Just a damn migraine. I’ll be better once I get a few beers in me.”

  I grunt. He made a quick recovery, but there are things about him that have changed. He’s moodier than before, sullener, but Emer says he’d been that way for a while. I just hadn’t been around to notice it.

  I’m hoping the tour will help.

  Our first stop is New York. We’ve got several shows along the East coast before heading west.

  But there’s only one city that has my nerves frayed.

  Chicago.

  Delaney’s city.

  I’ve thought about sending her tickets, but she’d probably just throw them away. I doubt she wants anything to do with me after the way I treated her.

  On the plane, I pull my hoodie over my head and stare out the small window.

  Owen takes the seat beside me and stretches his arms and legs out. We’re in first class, so the chairs are bigger than normal, but it’s still too cramped for the two of us.

  “Can I get you anything?” the flight attendant asks, batting her false eyelashes at us.

  I grunt and turn back to the window, ignoring the way Owen flirts shamelessly with her.

  “She must be pretty special,” Owen says when the flight attendant is gone.

  “Who?”

  “Yer American.”

  I open my mouth, but he stops me.

  “Don’t even try to pretend that ye’re not thinking about that girl.”

  “I’m not,” I lie, closing my eyes, and crossing my arms over my chest. “This is going to be a long fucking flight if ye intend to talk the whole time.”

  Owen chuckles. “Ye care about her. I get it.”

  No. I fucking love her. The thought is in my head before I even have time to process it.

  Shit. It’s the truth.

  I love her.

  “Yeah, I care about her.”

  “So, why’d ye let her walk away?”

  I rub the back of my neck. “She was engaged.”

  “When she was with ye?” Owen’s mouth tugs down.

  “No.”

  He’s still frowning at me. “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I was an asshole. Said things I shouldn’t have.”

  He laughs. “I wouldn’t expect anything more from ye.”

  “No. But she did.”

  His expression sobers and he raises an eyebrow.

  “It doesn’t matter now. I lost her.”

  “Then go find her.”

  Chapter 27

  Delaney

  The concert hall is full, jam-packed with screaming women. And the second Wild Irish takes the stage, the louder they get.

  I can’t process the emotions I feel when I see Cillian.

  We’re far enough away that he’ll never see me in the masses, but close enough that I can see him clearly. My breath gets stuck in my throat when I take in his appearance.

  The t-shirt he’s wearing is snug enough to curve over his chest and shoulders. I can recall what’s under it far too easily, all the glorious ink and chiseled muscles. His beard is cut short, but his hair is long, shading one side of his face.

  Even from a distance, I catch the blue of his eyes.

  He’s gorgeous.

  More beautiful than I remember.

  I know right away that I made the wrong choice coming here.

  It’s too hard.

  The small spark of hope that started in my chest when the backstage passes arrived in my mailbox yesterday is back. Kiersten freaked out when she saw them.

  The result was a thirty-minute interrogation as to how I got them, and who sent them. I didn’t give her all the details, but I did tell her about meeting the band when I’d been in Ireland. She was angry at me for about five minutes for not telling her sooner. But when I said we could use the passes, she forgave me quickly.

  Now we’re here and I have about two hours to decide whether I’m actually going to use the pass and see him.

  My palms are sweating, and my heart is racing a million miles per minute. He wouldn’t have sent me the passes if he hadn’t wanted to see me. But there was no note. No explanation. No hint of whether he’s still angry at me, if Aiden ever told him the truth about Matt, or if he still believes I betrayed him.

  I shouldn’t have come.

  Kiersten is screaming along with the rest of the crowd. She doesn’t seem to notice my unease. I’m not sure I can do this – any of it.

  When the band begins to play, and Cillian’s voice echoes through the building, my entire body begins to tremble.

  “I see her face. Blurred by time. Arms outstretched, but never mine. Let the Irish rains wash away yer tears. Let me kiss away yer pain…”

  A shiver races down my spine as memories flood through me. Cillian’s kisses. His lips on mine. His touch. His body. Him singing just to me as we sat on the beach and watched the sun set over the ocean.

  “Come to me, my love. I’m waiting on the shore. It’s safe in yer harbor, but that’s not what ships are for.”

  I did come to you, I want to scream. But you threw it away. Threw me away. Why?

  And what do you want from me now?

  I don’t know how I do it, but I manage to get through the whole concert without breaking down or running out of the building. If anything, my initial nerves have turned into something harder, almost bitter, as I watch the ease in which he takes each breath, as he sings each word.

  It was so easy for him to let me go.

  So easy for him to believe the worst in me.

  Part of me wonders if he didn’t just use Matt as an excuse to end what we had. To make me look like the bad guy, so he wouldn’t have to feel guilty for breaking my heart.

  I’m so caught up in my thoughts and memories that I barely register when the concert ends.

  My thumb strokes the word written across my wrist – happiness – and I wonder if Cillian found his. He seems like he has.

  Fame.

  Money.

  Women.

  They’re all his.

  It’s a world that’s far different from mine, or the one I spent a month with him in. I don’t belong here. I can’t just be another screaming fan to him. And that’s all I am. I’d be a fool to believe otherwise.

  “Come on,” Kiersten takes my hand and starts to drag me through the crowd towards the front of the stage.

  “Kiersten,” I yell over the noise, but she either doesn’t hear me, or chooses to ignore me. I’m pretty sure it’s the latter.

  When she flashes her pass at the security guard, and he nods her through, I stop.

  I can’t do this.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks, and I see the hint of annoyance in her eyes.

  “Why don’t you go–” The air in my chest leaves me in a solid whoosh, like someone hit me in the stomach with a baseball bat – because I see him.

  Cillian.

  A door opens about ten feet from us. It’s only open for a split second before it shuts again, but I see enough to know that I never should have come, because there’s no mistaking it was him with the blonde attached to him like a second skin.

  My stomach rolls.

  “Delaney,” Kiersten crosses her arms and glares at me. “Come o
n.”

  I can’t stop staring at the door, but it doesn’t open again. And I’m not sure I want it to. “I…I’m not feeling well.”

  She frowns. “You’re not going to leave me here alone, are you?”

  “I’m sorry,” I mumble, trying to hold back the tears that sting my eyes. I turn and hurry towards the nearest doors, gasping in a breath when I’m finally alone.

  Stupid tears. I swipe them away with the back of my hand before letting out a frustrated scream.

  “Ye all right?”

  I startle at the sound of the man’s voice.

  Glancing up at the familiar blue eyes, I laugh at how cruel fate can be. If my humiliation wasn’t complete, I had to be caught crying in front of Cillian’s brother.

  “It’s you.” Tossing his cigarette on the ground, he moves towards me. “Cillian’s girl.”

  Cillian’s girl? Is he serious?

  I snort back a laugh and shake my head.

  “Does my brother know ye’re here?” He moves out of the shadows towards me.

  “No. But, I don’t think he’d care. He seemed a little preoccupied when I saw him.”

  Owen frowns. “I don’t know what ye saw, but he’ll be wanting to see ye.”

  “I doubt that.” Had I really expected him to not be with anyone? To be pining away for me, like I’d been doing for him?

  I realize now that a part of me hoped for it.

  “I’m not even sure why he sent me the passes,” I mutter, more to myself.

  Owen coughs, and when I glance over at him, he winces. “Actually, that was me.”

  “You?”

  “I know the two of ye didn’t leave things on good terms. And I know my brother’s too damn stubborn to make a move himself. So…”

  That small spark of hope is completely extinguished now.

  “He didn’t send the passes?” Which means he didn’t want to see me.

  My chest squeezes painfully.

  God, I’m so stupid.

  “No. But I’ve never seen him like this. My brother’s a stubborn bastard, but he has a good heart.”