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Chapter 32 ~ The Impossibility of Us

Rígan

I screamed into my pillow.

It had been half an hour since I’d returned to the tent I was sharing with Bryn, fifteen minutes since I’d extricated myself from my dress, and a minute since I let myself consider exactly how I kept losing control around Dàibhid.

Luckily, Bryn was still out, chatting with Grove residents. I screamed again without worry of someone hearing.

It was like some intrinsic force pulled me toward him every damn time I locked on to him. I’d vowed not to dance with him again after Brí had fetched him. Vowed to not even talk to him for the remainder of the night. And then that woman had made him so damn uncomfortable, I hadn’t been able to help myself; I’d needed to save him.

I had no excuse for the second dance. No excuse for putting us both in that position. Me in one where I wanted what I couldn’t have, and one where I may have let him believe something could happen.

I scrunched the rough-spun blanket between my fingers, itchy fabric grating along my skin.

His shirt had been nice and soft.

For fuck’s sake, Rígan.

Nothing could happen between us. I couldn’t even pretend it could. It didn’t have to do with our falling-out eight years ago. That had little bearing anymore. No, I didn’t know if I could trust him to keep my secret. There would be too much on the line for him, too. It was best he never found out.

Besides, if he found out, how would I feel about continuing to keep my secret from Maya and Lou?

There was no way I could risk losing them.

I’d just have to go back to my pre-Tírdorcha plan. I would be friendly. Nothing more.

I screamed a third time for good measure.