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R oan’s fist moves so fast that I barely see it. Cillian immediately crumples to the floor in a heap. Orla screams. Roan moves forward, his fist still raised.

Cian doesn’t move to stop his brother. Roan’s fist comes down again, smashing into Cillian’s face.

I move forward, but Eoin puts his arm around my shoulders and holds me tight.

“You can’t interfere now,” he says.

I struggle to pull away. “But…”

“It’s a family thing. They’ve got to sort it out.”

“Get off of me, you asshole!” Cillian screeches. He scrambles to his feet, his hand clutching his bleeding mouth, nothing left of his previous arrogant manner.

The pub is very quiet; all eyes are on Roan.

“Don’t you dare talk about Jenna like that again,” Roan says in a deadly quiet voice. “Don’t you dare talk about any woman like that again, or else…”

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it like that,” Cillian whines. A trickle of blood leaks from his cut eyebrow.

“You don’t have to apologize to me. Apologize to her.” Roan nods in my direction.

“Seriously, it’s fine. I don’t need another bullshit apology from you,” I say to Cillian, making the disdain clear in my voice.

Cian gives me an I-knew-he-did-something look. I shake my head, indicating it isn’t worth pursuing.

“Let’s just be done with it,” Orla says.

Roan heaves a sigh but backs away a step. She really is the boss.

“Fucking bitch,” Cillian mutters, touching his lip gingerly.

Roan and Cian take another threatening step toward him, and even Orla cries out, “I said, let’s just be done with it!”

He raises his hands placatingly but sneers at me. “I don’t understand this. You’ve known her for a few days, but I’ve been your cousin for over twenty years. How can you choose her over me?”

“If she talked about you like that, I’d protect you too, but you’re the one picking fights for no reason,” Roan growls.

Have I mentioned how sexy he sounds when he’s sticking up for me?

But Cillian is still undeterred, even with a bloody lip and a split brow.

“You act like you are all choirboys,” he retorts. “But Finn was in jail, Roan fights for money, and Cian, you roughed up a few guys pretty badly a couple years ago. Put one of them in the hospital, if I remember correctly. But I make one mistake, and I’m the boogeyman.”

Orla shakes her head. “The O’Brien boys have never been innocent lambs, but for all the crap they’ve pulled, they’ve always directed their aggression at the bastards who deserve it. And here you are attacking a woman, and for what? Because she went to bed with your cousin?”

Note to self: There are no secrets in this family. Everyone knows everything about everyone.

Cillian stares at her, thinking. When no suitable answer comes to mind, because there isn’t one, he says, “She’s supposed to be a role model.”

I snort.

Orla throws me a look that clearly says I should shut my damn mouth, so I press my lips together and let them handle it.

“Just roughly estimating, I assume all your professors, both male and female, have had sex at some point. Do you approach them the same way, or just the ones you’re jealous of because they don’t sleep with you?”

I look at her in shock. That can’t be the reason. I’ve been hit on by students before, but so far, he hasn’t made any advances at me.

“That’s not it,” he explains quietly.

Orla crosses her arms over her chest. “What is it then?” When he doesn’t answer, she looks at Cian. “Get him a Band-Aid for his lip.”

Cian nods reluctantly, returning a moment later with a first aid kit. Slowly, life returns to the pub. Obviously, a little brawl between family members doesn’t bother them in the slightest.

Cillian sits down on a stool and allows Cian to patch him up. He casts furtive, nervous glances at Roan, who is sitting with his back to me. I can’t see his face, but I can still read the tension in his broad shoulders.

I really should stop undressing him in my mind. But I can’t seem to do it.

I am obsessed. Obsessed with Roan Walsh, the Irish god. Let’s hope nobody can read my thoughts.

When Cillian has been treated for his minor wounds, Orla sends him home. Only when the door closes behind him does Roan turn to me, his gaze flitting over me in a way that makes my head flutter.

Stop these thoughts !

“Are you okay?” he finally asks.

I nod. After all, my lip isn’t bleeding.

Orla comes up to me and holds out her hand. “Sorry, we were never properly introduced. I’m Orla.”

“Jenna Scott.”

“You’ve made quite a first impression,” she comments with a grin.

Roan shakes his head in warning. “We’re just friends.”

Orla pats him on the shoulder. “Of course you are. That’s what I meant.” She winks at him.

“I’m hungry,” she says. “Have you eaten yet?” She looks at her cousins.

“We were just about to order,” says Roan.

She nods. “Sounds great. I’ll have what you’re having.” She leans toward me and whispers conspiratorially, “It’s always good to follow the chef’s lead.”

I grin back, liking her already. “Thanks for the tip.”

When a table becomes free, we move. Cian can no longer be part of the conversation, but he’s busy anyway, tapping beers and charming the panties off a long-legged blonde sitting at the bar.

I smirk. Boys.

I like the dynamic of the O’Briens, and I learn that although Roan and his brothers are actually called Walsh, they all seem to be grouped under the label of the O’Brien boys. When I ask about this, I’m told that there are only three Walshs, but six O’Briens in this generation.

Cillian, they tell me, is the son of Roan’s father’s brother, so he’s not related to Orla and, therefore, not an O’Brien— only a Walsh.

After a while, it all bleeds into an endless river of second cousins and half-cousins, and I know I’ll never get it straight.

“Have you always wanted to be a professor?” Orla asks me after our food arrives.

I shake my head. “I didn’t really know what exactly I wanted to do with my degree. I mean, what does anyone do with a political science degree? Drive a cab, usually. But I’d worked for my current boss as a student assistant while I was still studying, and after graduation, he asked me if I wanted a job. It turned out to be exactly the right thing for me.”

She smiles. “I think it’s always good when you do what you love.”

“It’s a good place to start, anyway,” I agree.

“That’s how I see it, too. When you’re young, you think it’s material things that will make you happy. A car, a house, a Rolex…”

“A Rolex would sure make me happy,” quips Eoin, sitting across the pub table from us.

Orla grins. “Well, good luck, because none of us can afford that kind of lifestyle.”

“Except Cam,” Eoin returns, polishing off his beer.

“Okay, sure, Cam is probably the only one of us who’s getting rich,” she admits. I look at her questioningly, and she explains, “Cameron is my little brother. He’s a lawyer at a big firm. That’s where you rake in the money.”

“I see. And what about the rest of you?” I look at Roan. “I already know you are a chef and a MMA fighter.”

“I’m a fireman,” Eoin says. “Or at least, I will be one soon.”

“Oh, cool. A hero.”

“Well, a hero in training, perhaps,” he replies with a grin.

“What about you?” I ask Orla.

Orla begins to count off on her fingers. “I’m a vet. My sister Tara is a concert violinist, and Leah is a child psychologist. Then Cam, of course. And then there are our Uncle Patrick’s two sons. Brady and Finn. Brady is…” She looks at Roan, who shrugs. “What does Brady do? We don’t really know. He was supposed to work here, at Cian’s, at one point, but he changed his mind at the last minute and never showed.”

Roan shrugs again. “He’s working for that car repair shop in Palo Alto, where all those Silicon Valley nouveau-riche bring their luxury cars.”

“Wow, I didn’t know that. That’s great!” comments Orla. “Since when?”

“A few weeks.”

“Brady is a mechanic,” she explains to me. “He also modeled for a few years. Then he fell in love with a rich woman who didn’t want to leave her husband. After that, he lost his footing a bit. And his younger brother, Finn, is a bartender at Juicy’s.”

“Yeah, I remember Finn,” I say, amazed again at how open this family is with their gossip.

Roan gives me a look. “I’m sorry, are you saying you didn’t just have eyes for me?”

I grin. “Don’t worry. I don’t even remember what he looks like.”

“That’s what I thought,” Roan jokes, gesturing to a waitress for another round.

“And what about you two? What’s your story?” Orla asks, clearly eager to know the details.

“We don’t have a story yet. We want to find out whether we can be friends,” I explain.

“Ah… friends ,” she says knowingly, raising her eyebrows at Roan.

“No, not friends like that,” I say firmly, even as my own hormones beg me to change my mind.

“As long as you know what you’re doing,” she says, clearly doubting us.

“We know,” says Roan, sounding more confident.

“Men and women can only be friends if they’re not attracted to each other,” adds Eoin with a mischievous grin. “And since Jenna is really hot, it can only mean that she didn’t like Roan’s dick!”

Roan punches him in the shoulder. “Hey! My dick is amazing.”

I laugh, but Orla covers her ears. “Too much information!”

Eoin rubs his sore shoulder. “Ow, that really hurt. But then, what’s the reason? You’re not going to tell me you don’t like her.”

Just then, yet another stranger sits down at the table with us. He rests his elbows on the table and buries his head in his hands.

“Are you okay, Brady?” asks Orla, placing a hand on his back.

Ah. More cousins. If I’ve been paying attention, he’s Finn’s brother, the one who was in love with a rich woman.

Brady has the same wild charm as his cousins, but his good looks are softer somehow, smoother. Tamer than his cousins, as if he didn’t go around getting into bar fights quite as often as they did.

“Life fucks everyone,” he replies morosely.

Roan pushes a glass of beer toward him. “Here, liquid comfort.”

He downs the glass in greedy gulps before wiping his mouth.

“What happened?” Orla asks.

“Mindy,” he says.

This name seems to cause a shock effect; everyone goes silent. Eoin is the first to recover. “Did she get in touch?”

Brady nods slowly. “She did.” His eyes fall on me. “Hey, weren’t you at the fight?”

At that moment, I realize that I’ve already seen him. He was at the MMA ring with Cian and Cillian. “Yes, that was me. I’m Jenna Scott.”

“Brady.” He offers me his hand, which I shake. He has a pleasant handshake. Firm but not too strong. Trustworthy.

“Don’t keep us in suspense,” Roan urges him. “What about Mindy?”

“She wants to leave her husband.”

Ah. Mindy must be the rich woman he had an affair with . I understand.

Orla leans forward. “So, she wants to get back together with you?”

“That’s what she said.” He shrugs, looking uncertain.

“Dude, you don’t want her back. Not after everything,” says Eoin, shaking his head.

Brady shrugs. “I have no idea what to do. The conversation was thirty minutes ago. I told her I needed to think.”

“What else did she say?” asks Orla.

“Nothing, really. Just that it’s over with her husband, and will I please give her another chance?”

“Do you want to give her another chance?” asks Orla.

“I don’t know. I was so in love with her, but…fuck, I don’t know. I don’t know! She chose someone else when she could have had me. And now, just because it didn’t work out with him, she wants me?” He rubs the back of his neck. “But maybe that’s just my wounded pride talking. I don’t know how I feel anymore.”

“She’s taking the easy way out,” says Eoin. “Instead of dealing with herself and her life, she wants to leech off of you.”

“I don’t necessarily see it that way,” says Orla in a gentler tone. “She was in love with Brady at the time; everyone saw that, but it’s just a question of whether she can or wants to give up her life for love.”

“She didn’t want to back then,” says Brady, hurt evident in his voice, “so she doesn’t have the right to come back now.”

“Do you really think so?” asks Roan. “Or is it wounded pride after all?”

Brady shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know.”

“Then you should find out before you do anything major,” says Eoin.

“Probably a good idea.” He looks around and signals to a waitress that he wants another drink. “Let’s talk about something else.” His eyes fall on me. “Roan’s never won a fight that quickly. I guess he had motivation.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” I reply.

Brady grins. “Well, he didn’t exactly pull you out of the arena gently.”

“I had a mission,” Roan says.

Brady raises an eyebrow. “Obviously.”

“They’re just friends,” interjects Eoin. “Before you get any ideas.”

“But they certainly weren’t just friends on Saturday.” Brady grins. “What? Is your dick ugly?”

“Why are you all so concerned with my dick?” Roan huffs. “I’ve certainly never had any complaints before.”

“I don’t want to hear anything about your sex organs,” says Orla, but she looks as if she wants to get some popcorn. I like her.

“They always mention them!” complains Roan, before he looks to me. “Tell them, my dick is fantastic.”

“Your dick is amazing,” I say, patting his hand reassuringly, humor in my voice.

Brady and Eoin howl with laughter, and Orla almost falls off her chair because she has a snorting fit.

Roan glares at me, but amusement is twinkling in his eyes. “That you would stab me in the back like that…”

Eoin can barely contain himself. “Can we please keep her?”

I grin. Apparently, I’ve passed the test with flying colors.

Roan tilts his head from side to side. “I’m not so sure yet. Friends just don’t act like that.”

He winks at me. So everything’s fine.

And I have to say, I’ve never really thought I’d have a male friend, but I’m having a lot of fun right now. Maybe it isn’t so bad after all. “We’re not friends yet,” I point out, unwilling to give in. “We wanted to see first if you wouldn’t get on my nerves.”

“Oh, is that what we wanted to find out? I thought we were checking if you weren’t a sassy brat.”

I grin. “No, you got that wrong. I wanted to see if you weren’t a massive asshole.”

Roan laughs. “Oh, I see, I misunderstood. I just wanted to see if you weren’t a total bitch.”

“And? So what if I am? Now what?” I joke.

He shrugs. “Guess I’ll have to live with it.”

I hold out my fist, and he bumps his against it.

“How sweet,” says Eoin with a disgusted laugh. “The start of a great friendship. I still bet fifty bucks it’s because he sucks in bed.”

Everyone laughs again.

I really can’t remember the last time I had this much fun. Maybe…never?