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“I…don’t know.”
She laughed quietly. “You’re a lunatic, Colm. Go talk to the woman, you big chicken shit.”
She’d referred to herself as that very same thing several times the past couple weeks, in regard to the way she’d turned tail and run rather than talking to Padraig. Although, neither of them was sure that was actually a bad thing.
Of course, her taunt struck a nerve, just like it always did. Only this time, he didn’t feel the need to one-up her insult.
No. This time, he felt the need to drag her upstairs, pull her over his knee and spank her until she came.
Fuck.
His cock was now on full alert.
This wasn’t good.
This was very, very bad.
When he still didn’t move, Kelli tilted her head. “Are you okay?”
He nodded slowly, realizing he must look like a lunatic.
He wanted Kelli. He really wanted her.
Before he could think about that—Jesus, it would take a long time for that to soak in—he needed to talk to Brooke. He’d spent every night since Halloween, reliving every moment of their time in bed together. He’d jacked off to the memory more times than he could count…but he’d noticed the last few nights it had been Kelli’s face he saw when he closed his eyes, instead of Brooke’s.
Right now, he was torn and confused as fuck.
He turned away from Kelli and walked across the room. “Hi, Brooke.”
She lifted her hand. “Hey, Colm. I was wondering if you had a minute? I wanted to talk to you.”
He nodded. “Sure.” Glancing around, he found an empty table toward the front of the pub, away from the singing and dancing and revelry around the stage. “Might be quieter up there.”
The two of them walked to the table, sitting down. “Want a drink?” he asked, looking around for Padraig.
Brooke shook her head. “No. I can’t stay long. I just wanted to apologize for Halloween.”
“You left without saying goodbye,” he said, fighting to keep his voice impassive. He and Brooke hadn’t been in a relationship, hadn’t made any commitments to each other. At least not with words. But damn if that night in his bed hadn’t felt like…something that felt meaningful, important.
“I know. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m afraid I had way too many screwdrivers. Between that and the blackout, I was a bit fuzzy when Robbie came in and we started making out.”
Colm frowned. “What?”
“Well, I’m embarrassed to admit when Robbie came in, I thought it was you for a minute or two. I’d been waiting for you, so needless to say, it took him by surprise when I wrapped my arms around his neck and started kissing him.”
“You and Robbie?” Colm knew Brooke had been tipsy that night, but he hadn’t thought her so drunk she didn’t even realize she’d been with him.
“Robbie thanked me for it when we broke apart, said it was a great kiss. We both laughed. Obviously, I’d gone to the wrong bedroom. The thing is…it really had been a great kiss.”
“You were in the wrong bedroom?” Colm realized he was parroting everything she said, but his brain was struggling to keep up.
If Brooke had been with Robbie that night, who the fuck had he…
His gaze traveled across the pub to where Kelli was sitting with Darcy and Sunnie, laughing.
His attention returned to Brooke, when he realized she was still talking.
“Anyway,” Brooke said, still rambling on. “We started talking, and then, well, he kissed me again, and…”
