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“What the fuck are you talking about?” Finnigan pulls up a barstool beside me and tosses his arm over my shoulder. “You’re closer in age to him than you are to her.”
“Just because you’re my brothers doesn’t mean I won’t kill you for touching her.” Tristan’s booming voice startles them both, and Finnigan’s arm slides from my shoulders. They both lift their hands into the air, signaling surrender, before all of them laugh it off.
“I need to go to the hospital with Declan.” Tristan slowly spins me on my stool to face him.
“To check on Quinn?” I ask, and he immediately shoots a disapproving look to both Liam and Finn.
“Yes,” he answers with a tinge of annoyance. “They’ll keep you occupied until I get back.”
“Oh, we’ll keep her occupied,” Liam interjects suggestively.
Shaking his head, Tristan instructs them, “Show her around the club. Teach her about your interests.”
“Fuck yes!” Finnigan exclaims.
“Explain to her what your interests are,” Tristan snarls before roughly gripping the back of Finnigan’s neck and squeezing hard enough to elicit a small wince from him.
Returning his attention to me, Tristan cups my face and places a soft kiss against my lips. “I’ll be back soon, mo cuishle. Please. Stay here with them.”
“Okay.” I place my hands over his as I nod in agreement. “I’ll stay here.”
“Good girl.”
He glances at both Liam and Finnigan, and each of them dips their head, acknowledging his silent request—one that I am apparently not privy to—as he joins Declan at the exit.
“Fill us in the moment you know something about Quinn,” Finnigan calls after him.
Hesitating for a moment, I ask, “Are you all close?”
“You mean with Quinn?” Liam clarifies.
“Yes.”
“We are. Or we were,” Liam discloses, and Finnigan glares at him.
“Tris will have your arse,” Finnigan warns, shaking his head.
“It’s not like I’m going to tell her some sordid secret about Quinn being his first wife,” Liam says before turning back to me. “Which she isn’t. To be clear, he’s never been married.”
I chuckle at his insistence and wait for him to proceed.
“Quinn grew up down the street from us. We were all the same age, and she sort of just fell in with the five of us. From the time she was, maybe, ten years old, she followed us around like an annoying younger sibling.” Liam pauses to return an annoyed glance at Finnigan.
“Only, one day, she didn’t quite look like everyone’s little sister anymore,” Finnigan chimes in. “And that’s when shit got messy.”
“All of us wanted her.” Liam takes back the narrative. “But Conor…He had it fucking bad for her.”
“She didn’t really return the sentiment,” Finnigan interjects. “She had her eyes on our big brother.”
“Tristan?” I ask, enamored with this story.
Liam shakes his head as he pours himself another drink. “Declan.”
“And?” I press for more.
“That’s it.” A foreign voice startles me from behind. “She wanted him. I wanted her, and she kind of pulled away from us all. Then, one summer, she went to visit family in Ireland, and she just didn’t come back.”
“Yeah,” Liam agrees. “She was gone at least ten—fuck, maybe fifteen—years.”
