“I know,” she says softly and my gut pulls faintly. My words hadn’t been harsh, but I know better than to be sharp so soon after a fucking like that. Aftercare isn’t just physical.
“Plus, you’re built like a sculpted statue, and now you’re eating takeout. See? You don’t make sense.” She shakes her head as if it’s something so completely unbelievable, and I can’t stop myself from laughing. It erupts out of me like a bark, and I have to set the plate down against my thigh before I shake the noodles off onto the floor.
“People with muscles can’t eat takeout? Is this something new?” I chuckle, wiping a spot of sauce away from the corner of my mouth. “If this is what kills me in this life, I will consider myself blessed.”
Cara fixes me with a wide stare like a surprised puppy dog, then she smiles, and her entire face softens. She looks cozy and light, a beauty I’ve not seen radiate from her before and it’s comforting to see. I reach for my plate again, twirling my fork around the noodles.
I like her looking this relaxed. I like it a lot.
“It just… doesn’t match,” Cara states, hiding her smile in another gulp of wine, yet she winces faintly as she swallows. My hand pauses, fork suspended. Had I been too rough with her throat? Was wine too strong a drink after such an act? I knew I should have insisted on just water.
My brow dips and she catches my eye, then she takes another large gulp of wine. This mouthful she swallows without issue and my brow relaxes. Regardless of how it feels, she’s satisfied enough to drink through the discomfort, and that’s going to have to be good enough. I resume eating, glad when I see her finally digging into her own plate. We eat in amicable silence for a few moments then she speaks up once more.
“Sienna told me you are pretty eager to get married,” Cara says cautiously. “I didn’t think you liked me enough to beeagerlyshackled to me for life.”
I shovel some chicken into my mouth, chewing slowly as tart soy splashes over my tongue and I watch her. What is she getting at exactly? Does she not think I’m capable ofthat,either?
“Why, did you think I’d cast you aside now you’re no longer a virgin? Does that change much for you?” I sneer lightly. “Should I take you back to the whorehouse? You might fit in better there now.”
The moment these words leave my lips, I regret them. That comment is far too jarring when she’s only asking and quite right too. The wedding is important, and we should talk about it. Only… discussing such a thing leads down a path I’m not sure I’m ready to share with her quite yet. As much as I’m growing to trust her, as much as I favor her company, I still fear she’ll be like all the others.
The chicken sours in my mouth, and I swallow dryly, forcing the food down around a lump in my throat.She isn’t Blair.She is the same as me. Lost in the tide of her father’s lies, shunted back and forth for the good of the Irish. Lied to, betrayed. Even from a business standpoint, I can see the cruelty.
Owen’s words flit back into my mind for a moment, but I brush them aside. Fuck Owen and his poisonous words. Cara told me everything she knew about those weapons, even when it could have cost her everything.
“Why do you have to be so fuckingcruelabout everything?” Cara snaps and her lower lip trembles. Her fingers wind tightly around her wine glass stem; any tighter and the glass surely would snap.
“I’m sorry.”
Cara’s lips part slightly, and her face relaxes in surprise. I set my plate aside next to my untouched glass of wine. Again, the sight of it clenches my stomach.
“That… I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”
“Itsoundedpretty fucking mean,” Cara snaps sharply. There’s a swell of temptation to snap back, a reflex more than anything, but I shove it aside. I’ve seen so much of Cara, all the way down to her dark and twisted corners. Maybe I should show her the same? We’re to be married regardless. I’d prefer it to be as smooth as possible. I rest my elbows lightly upon my knees, wringing my hands together as my mind floods with thoughts, and I fix my gaze on a point on the table close to her. Where to start?
“It’s a reflex,” I explain quietly and my heart stutters a few beats in my chest. “It swells up before I can stop it. Letting people in, letting peopleseeme is… it’s dangerous. Even with people I like. You know this world, everyone’s a fucking vulture just waiting for you to bare your throat.” I flex my fingers together, staring intently at them as I try to coordinate a path through the noise in my brain. Cara remains silent and I’m grateful; it gives me a chance to get it all out before I have to defend myself to her questions.
“I’ve always been the second choice. Growing up, my father put all his time and energy into Dante because Dante is first born. He was always going to take over, so I was left to pick up becoming a man on my own.” Emotion clogs my voice suddenly and I clear my throat sharply. I can’t let my emotions betray me.So I'm not the golden child, or the first pick, nothing but a grunt that had to scrabble about and learn the world in under a year. It could be worse.
I continue on quietly. “It’s… whatever. That’s life in this world, right? But then I found Blair, and she sawme. She saw this world and she didn’t shy away from it. Ipouredmyself into her. Every drop I had to give. Sure I wasn’t the nicest of boyfriends, there’s a lot I did wrong, but Ilovedher. I tried with everything I had, and then she… Well, she was after Dante all along. She broke me.”
Once I start, I can’t stop. It pours out of me, raw and honest, like word vomit I have no control over. Pain I didn’t even knowwasstill pain slips from my lips, and I’m left exposed. Slicing myself open so she can witness the blood pour and see the truth I’m offering. So she can believe me when I let her know I have two sides. I’ve never spoken to anyone about how deeply Blair shattered me, yet here I sit, offering Cara the pieces as if she has the ability to glue me back together.
“So I threw myself into drinking. Can’t think or feel anything when you’re shit-faced,” I scoff humorlessly, gripping my fingers together, turning my skin translucent, and making the bruises and injuries from the years of fighting stand out like stark stains against my bone.
“But you, Cara—,” I catch the waver in my voice before it can escape this time, staring so intently at my knuckles that my eyes begin to sting. “—you came into my life like this little spitfire, demanding things and pushing things and before I knew what the fuck was happening… you’d reminded me what it’s like to have someone. Companionship and… someone there.” The more I talk, the longer she stays silent, and the weight of it starts to smother me. I flex my shoulders back, trying to escape that pressing sensation, but even as I do, I can’t seem to shut up. The floodgates are open. Will I just keep spewing my heart to her until she tells me to shut up? “And they kepttakingyou from me. But the more they did, the more I realized that trusting you wasn’t so bad. I like…having you around.”
My confession hangs in the air like an axe, ready to drop with the consequences of whatever reaction Cara has. I’ve said it now, There’s nothing else to add and I can’t take it back. What am I even looking for? Sympathy? A hint that she feels the same? Hope that she at leastunderstandswhy I am this way?
How can she understand? I don’t even understand it myself. The clink of her wine glass against the table catches my ears, but I find myself unable to look up. She can be as sharp as me, as fierce, and sometimes as cold. I don’t want to see anything like that on her face after I’ve poured myself out to her. My skin throbs raw, my heart pounds slowly in my chest, and the heat behind my eyes refuses to fade no matter how powerfully I blink.
Then, Cara speaks.
“Killian.” My name slips from her lips like a whisper, and her bare feet pad into my line of sight. She’s here? She hasn’t recoiled out of hatred or disgust? I clench my jaw, pressing my tongue to the back of my teeth as I force my head up to meet her gaze. I’m unsure what I expect to see in those dark eyes, but warmth isn’t it.
It’s there, though, burning away as she presses her soft hands to the sides of my face. She slides into my lap, a gentle heat, and my hands part to catch her body as it nestles into mine. I can’t speak*; I can barely think. Every thought in my mind has frozen in place as she cradles my head to her chest and slides her fingers deep into my hair.
Fuck.