Page 82 of Craving Sin

Can I handle that?

Do I want to?

But the truth is, I don’t really have a choice. That’s not how my brain or heart works. They’ve both chosen him, and walking away to avoid stressing about what-ifs, would kill me too.

“Let’s exit out of this search,” I say to the phone while sitting on a stool at the counter in Rian’s kitchen. Trying to distract myself from how things might be going with Cillian, I start researching the local music scene—the local orchestras and any kind of sales numbers on shows I can find.

I mark some things that I can show Rian later, then do a shitty job of not thinking about Cillian.

I don’t want to hurt Rian’s son. From everything Rian’s told me, it would be impossible not to know how much Cillian loves his mom. It’s made even more complicated by the way Rian lost himself to his grief so completely, and in that pain, hurt his son. I don’t want to be something else between them. I don’t want my love for Rian to damage his fragile relationship with Cillian.

Eventually, I do some exploring of Rian’s house. I find a room with a treadmill and some other workout equipment, and use that, then shower, and get dressed.

When I head back downstairs, Conan cocks a brow at me while holding the phone to his ear. “What?” I ask.

“Do you mind?”

“I do actually.” Walking over, I sit in the chair across from him. I’m being a dick, but hey, it takes one to know one, and really, I’m just hurting myself because it’s not like I want to spend time with him.

“Let me call you back,” Conan says to whoever he’s speaking to before setting the cell down on the table. He doesn’t speak to me though, instead just types on his laptop—the click, click, click the only constant in an otherwise quiet room.

I try not to speak, try not to care that he didn’t want to talk to whoever had been on the phone in front of me, that he doesn’t have anything to say to me. Then again, I’ve always hated being ignored.

My father ignored me most of my life. The only time I mattered to him was when he needed something from me, and so it makes my skin crawl, makes me shift uncomfortably…makes me angry…and I feel unworthy. “You have no reason not to like me,” I eventually say, immediately regretting it. Why did I let him know he’s getting to me?

“I don’t dislike you.” Conan keeps his gaze on the computer.

Oh, that’s right. He just doesn’t give a shit about me. That stings more than it should, my brain telling me that it shouldn’t matter what this man thinks of me…but it does. He’s important to Rian. He helps protect Rian, and that means something to me. He doesn’t do it the way people who follow orders from my father do it—because they have to, because they’re paid to—he does it because Conan cares about Rian, and Rian deserves that.

There’s something so pure about the care they have for each other, the loyalty. I never would have thought it would be shared among men like them, but it’s stronger, more sincere here between them than it is with people that society would consider better men than Rian and his family.

“I won’t hurt him,” I say. “I would do anything for him. I’m…in love with him.” That’s not something I want to say to Conan at all, and certainly not before I tell Rian, but the silence is getting to me, and this man is such a huge part of Rian’s life—the life that I want to be a part of too.

“Despite what he does?”

“Yes,” I reply.

“What happens if he goes too far for you? When you decide you’re too good for him? When he does something you don’t like, and it changes your perception of him? Love always has conditions.”

I frown at that, not having expected Conan to say it. Has he been hurt before? By whom? “Does your love for Rian have conditions?”

“I’m the same kind of man he is.”

“So? You’re the one who said love always has conditions. It doesn’t for you, so why does it have to for me?”

He doesn’t answer, just closes the laptop and leans back on the couch. “It nearly killed him losing Moira, and even when she was alive, this life hurt her. She loved him, was good to him, and she was Rian’s world, but it’s not easy loving someone who lives the way we do.”

“So, he should just be alone forever?” Is that why you’re alone? Did you hurt someone you love? Was it too much for them?

Conan just shrugs.

“Are we talking about Rian or you?”

The cold, disconnected stare slips into place on his face again. “Fuck you,” he says to me.

I squint my eyes shut. I’m going about this the wrong way and not earning myself any points. “That wasn’t fair. I’m sorry,” I tell him, looking at Conan again. “I just…have never felt the way I do with him. It doesn’t even make sense to me. I just know it, right here.” I touch my chest. “That this is right. That he’s it for me. That I’ve found the place I never knew I was searching for, and it’s with him. I know it won’t be easy. I know that Rian will do things, a lot of things, that I don’t agree with, and maybe that should matter more than it does. But I love him, and he wants me, and I won’t walk away from that—not ever. He cares about you. You’re his best friend. I would like it if we could find some kind of common ground, but if not, you should know, I’m not going anywhere. As long as he wants me, this is where I’ll be.”

Conan doesn’t answer right away…just sitting there staring at me. I can’t read his expression. Hell, I don’t even know if I was right any of the other times I thought I could, but he’s even more shut down tight.