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Heat goes straight into my face.
“Do you two have to go head-to-head every time you're together?” Eilish steps down from the platform.
He doesn’t look away from me. “Can you please explain to your friend in whatever language she’ll understand that we are getting married.”
“He’s right, Sera.” Eilish kicks the merengue shaped material at her feet so she can walk. “I don’t blame Fionn for any of this. Our families want this.”
I smile because if I don’t, I’ll show teeth. “So, you two are friends now?”
“Yes,” he says, his stare vacant. “Have you got a problem with that?”
My pulse changes, and I hate him for being in my veins. For being so fucking cruel.
“I need to get out of this dress.” Eilish heads to the changing room. “Please don’t kill each other while I’m away.”
When Fionn’s attention leaves me, I wither and sit in the velvet chair.
“Remove the dresses my mother picked out and let her review your full collection.”
The stylist hurries off. “Of course. I’ll bring alternatives.”
Eilish stares at him. “Thanks, Fionn.”
He walks to the chair next to me, pinches the fabric at his knees, and sits. “When you’re ready to come out, I’ll turn away.”
“You could leave,” I mutter.
“So could you.”
The stylist guides Eilish toward the fitting room, leaving me alone in a bridal salon full of mirrors with the man I've spent too many hours thinking about.
“You left with Ronan,” he says when Eilish is out of earshot.
“Ya noticed.”
“I notice men who put their hands on things that don’t belong to them.”
My stomach flips, which is deeply inconvenient because I do not belong to him and both of us know it.
“Forever the entitled prick,” I say under my breath.
“Forever the annoying brat.” He looks at me then, his gaze tangling with mine, holding me prisoner to whatever this unbearable madness is.
My chest is tight, and the two of us being this close without physically fighting is its own form of torture.
“Have ya even asked her what she wants?” I whisper.
“How about you ask me what I want,” he snaps.
“I don’t care what you want,” I lie. “She’s all I care about. Are ya gonna kiss her and pretend you’re into it? Make her fall for ya and then break her heart?”
Fionn rises to his full height, moves in front of me, snares my arm and hauls me to my feet. “Since you’re her friend, how about I show you how I’m going to kiss her and you can decide if I’m into it.”
“Absolutely not.” I raise my hand to slap him, but he’s too quick.
He catches my wrist, and the contact spreads heat right through me. “When we’re in neutral territory, little wild thing, we don’t fight like that. Understood?”
My heart hammers against my ribs.
