Ash snorts. “Are you even surprised?”
“I’m Ronan,” he says, smiling at me. “Ash and Dillon’s brother, but please don’t hold that against me.”
“Grace.” I smile back at him. “Nice to meet you.”
Dillon’s eyes narrow. “Why are you here,Grace?” he spits out, staring at me like my presence personally offends him in some way.
“Ash invited me,” I say, purposely projecting my voice and standing taller, even as I gulp over the anxiety traveling up my throat. Dillon’s single-minded focus, dark stare, and strange intensity intimidate me. I’m pretty tall for a girl, so it’s rare I feel small or an urge to cower, but I’m feeling both things now. He has this larger-than-life presence that is scary as much as it’s intriguing. Ash told me there is only a year separating her and Dillon, but somehow, he seems older.
His lips curl into a sneer. “In Ireland,” he clips out.
I frown. “What does it matter why I’m here?”
“Just answer the question,” he barks, his eyes darting all around for a few seconds before he refocuses that all-consuming lens on me again.
“I don’t owe you any explanation, and is this how you always treat new people you meet?”
“I’m suspicious of anyone who comes into my sister’s life,” he says, leaning his face in closer to mine. “Especially nosy Americans.”
“Wow. Generalize much?” Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare at him. What the hell is his problem?
“You’re pissing me off now, Dil.” Ash grabs his arm, yanking him back.
“Fact.” Ronan agrees.
“What’s going on?” a familiar blonde says, coming up behind Dillon. It’s the same girl who was with Jamie in Trinity on Monday—Aoife.
“Nothing,” Dillon grits out, his jaw clenching. Slinging his arm around Aoife’s shoulders, he sinks onto a chair beside Jamie, pulling her down on his lap. She paws at him, whispering something in his ear.
Air oozes out of my mouth in grateful relief now his attention is diverted. My limbs loosen as a layer of tension evaporates.
“Don’t mind him,” Ash says. “He’s an overprotective idiot, and his bark is worse than his bite.”
“Sometimes,” Ronan drawls.
“Why would you need protection from me?” I ask Ash, confusion clear in my tone. “Have you guys had a bad experience with Americans in the past or something?”
“Honestly, don’t take it to heart,” Ash says. “Dillon is…complicated.”
“He’s a grumpy prick,” Ronan says. “But it’s nothing personal. He’s angry with the world most days.” He flashes me a dazzling smile. “Forget about him. Tell me more about you. What part of the US are you from?”
I’m grateful for the subject change, even if talking about myself gives me a major case of the heebie-jeebies these days. I’m a little on edge, praying someone doesn’t recognize me and out me to my new friends. Yet I don’t want to lie. I can be vague and fudge the truth. That way, if my identity is ever revealed, I can still look my friends in the face. “Los Angeles.”
His eyes widen. “Really?”
I nod, instantly warming to him. He’s the polar opposite of his brother and as friendly as his sister.
“My dream is to emigrate to L.A. and make it big on the music scene. We’re good enough to make it, if we can just catch a break.”
“You’ll realize quickly both my brothers have extremely healthy egos,” Ash says, steering me toward the opposite end of the table.
“I got us some drinks,” Catriona says, patting the comfy leather seat beside her. “Sit with me.”
Noticing the pile of coats and jackets on the window ledge behind our table, I unbutton my coat, folding it and my scarf and placing it on top of the existing mountain.
“Holy fuck. You look smokin’,” Ash says, grinning.
Feeling eyeballs on my back, I turn around, meeting Dillon’s heated stare. Slowly, his eyes rake over me from head to toe. It’s as if he’s peeling off my clothes, leaving me naked and exposed to his hungry eyes. I squeeze my thighs together as desire coils low in my belly, and my heart is thumping wildly in my chest. Aoife narrows her eyes, scowling in my direction when she notices Dillon’s attention has strayed. Her arms wrap more possessively around his neck, but he’s not showing her any attention.