Page 38 of Shipwrecked

He’s tall and muscular. I’m sure if he were in a true rage, he’d terrify everyone. So why do I want to see it? Why do I want to place my hands on his chest and shove, just to see how he reacts?

Seán steps in, putting a hand on Cillian’s chest and applying pressure. Cillian resists it at first, eyes locked on mine. Seán pushes harder. “Cillian,” he warns. Cillian takes a deep breath and steps back.

Off to the side, Mathieu is watching. He seems more curious about who will win our fight than interested in intervening. That’s better for me, since he’s proven himself a traitor when it comes to following Cillian’s rules.

“Cillian is right,” Seán says.

“Are you seriously taking his side?” I demand.

Seán’s brows rise. “I didn’t bring Cillian along just because you asked. He’s got more experience than I do, and if he’s suggesting something for safety reasons, I’m listening.”

Cillian looks like he’s expecting a rebuttal, but I know from their demeanour that I’ve lost.

“Got them!” Charles calls from down the beach. We all look in his direction and see a string of salt-stiffened life jackets over his arm. Surprise shoots across Cillian’s face, followed closely by something rueful. I bump against his side, though I don’t manage to shift him over.

“What’s wrong, Mr Safety Expert? Did you forget about the life jackets?”

I swear that Cillian’s eyes glow as he turns his gaze slowly to me.

Seán puts his good arm around my shoulders and physically pulls me with him back towards the group. “I think you woke up on the wrong side of your leaf pile.” He guides me all the way to Mary, sitting on the edge of the treeline. I drop down heavily next to her and glare at Cillian for his entire “safety” talk.

Chapter Fourteen

Cillian

Never have I wanted to get someone underneath me more. Or pinned against a palm tree. I was so close to dragging Jules into the jungle, my heart’s still pumping with the idea of it. Seán saw how close I was to losing it when he intervened. He’s walking me towards the water, the group left behind in the treeline. Jules is bracketed by Mary and Charles, Mathieu trying to reassure him. His glare prickles hot against the back of my neck.

Seán clears his throat.

“Something to say?” I ask.

“Nothing in particular. Just”—Seán makes a broad gesture to our surroundings—“you know.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“I thought you were straight.”

“I am.”

He lets it sit with me. I shrug. “We were fighting.”

Seán scoffs. “Maybe to everyone else you looked pissed, but I’ve seen you angry. It certainly doesn’t look like that.”

We reach the water. It’s warm against my feet, barely a wave disturbing the surface. The sky is clear, not a cloud in sight, and there’s no breeze. Jules picked the best day for it, and it’s like he read my mind. I had planned to bring it up with Seán today.

“Is there something in particular you want to say?” I ask.

Seán has never had much to say about my dating life. I’ve been booted out of half a dozen relationships and come crawling back to his couch many times, but he’s never asked for details. The only time he mentioned anything was when we were doing a mountaineering course in France. The woman in charge—Camelia—controlled us all like we were soldiers in the army. Seán warned me what would happen if I did my usual routine of getting into a relationship and fucking it all up once we hit the sheets.

Ah.

“I’m not going to sleep with him and”—I mimic his broad gesture—“piss him off while we’re trapped on an island together.”

“Very kind of you. That’s much better than sleeping with him and pissing him off in other circumstances.”

“You know what I mean.”

“He’s my friend,” Seán says. “I’m not sure any of them will want to see my face again after this, and I can only imagine that my start-up is done for…” His shoulders slump. My irritation softens.