Page 18 of Twisted Secrets (The O’Malleys #3)

T wo days passed, and then three. By the time the fifth day slipped by without seeing or hearing from Cillian, Olivia had convinced herself that their whole night together was a fever dream brought on by his head injury and her exhaustion.

It didn’t help her feel less hurt by his rejection—because, really, what else could she call him avoiding Jameson’s as well as her? —but it was better than nothing.

And what if he wasn’t avoiding her? Head wounds were tricky beasts, even under the best of circumstances.

He’d seemed okay when she’d left the hotel that morning, but what if something happened in the meantime?

She could have left him to die, and the only way she’d know about it was hearing a news report—which was why she’d been spending a truly unhealthy amount of time searching the local news outlets for anything about deaths with corresponding head injuries.

It wasn’t a perfect way to go about things, and knowing that only made her stress out worse.

“Why the long face, pretty girl?”

She grimaced and passed a beer to the guy across the bar. “Gas.”

He jerked back, nearly knocking over the guy next to him. “Jesus. Sorry I asked.”

It was too easy. Like shooting fish in a barrel.

That , at least, she found some pleasure in.

The men who came through this place were nothing to her, and for whatever reason, her pissy attitude had made her tips nearly double this week.

It would almost be enough to change her mood if she didn’t think about how worried she was about Cillian.

It didn’t help that Benji kept sending her worried looks.

She grabbed a rag to wipe down a spill. “I’m fine.”

“I didn’t say a word.” He measured three different liquors into a shaker.

“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.

” She wasn’t sure why she was pressing this, let alone with her boss, but the need to talk to someone about what had gone down was nearly overwhelming.

It didn’t make sense. She wasn’t a sharer.

She’d been blown off before, and hadn’t lost a second of sleep over it.

But then she met that troublemaker O’Malley, and now she was losing her damn mind.

Benji poured two martinis and passed them over to a pair of women chatting about their week at work. Then he turned to face her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

If she didn’t, she might just explode. I am so pathetic . “The other night when I was taking out the trash and closing up, I caught two assholes beating the crap out of Cillian O’Malley.”

His mouth tightened. “You need to stay out of those kinds of conflicts. I don’t want you getting hurt.” He held up a hand at an impatiently waiting customer without looking over. “You’re tough, Olivia, but this is a whole different ball game from what you’re used to.”

That was the problem. It wasn’t. She’d grown up around the casual violence and threats that came from underground crime, even if she’d been on the outskirts for the most part. It wasn’t seeing those two guys beating Cillian up that spooked her so bad.

It was that she’d walked away from that night with all her convictions about the man questioned.

“It was fine. I scared them off with your trusty shotgun.”

“This time.” He took the order from the impatient guy and grabbed two Buds from the fridge below the bar.

After the guy paid, Benji turned back to her.

“Next time you might not be so lucky. You know what they say about heat waves—everyone is on edge and ready to fight. That goes double for anyone under the umbrella of O’Malley, Sheridan, or Halloran. ”

How had this turned into him telling her to back off? She propped her hands on her hips. “I can take care of myself.”

“These aren’t common street thugs—not in this part of town, and not giving a beating to an O’Malley.

Whoever it was won’t forget that you intervened, and some of the families around these parts can have a long memory.

If you’re not careful, you might turn down a street one night and find yourself in more trouble than you can handle. ”

The sad thing was that if that ever happened, it wouldn’t be a Boston family threatening her.

It would be the Romanovs. She couldn’t say that to Benji without explaining her past, though, and she wasn’t willing to go there.

Not tonight. Probably not ever. “I’ve got it covered.

I promise. That wasn’t even what was bothering me in the first place. ”

He frowned. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I patched Cillian up and made sure he was okay and…” God, why was she even talking about this?

She wasn’t some high school girl with a crush.

She’d already seen how that kind of thing worked out—with her in over her head and knocked up by a man who would never love her like she desperately needed.

Olivia took a deep breath. “Never mind. It’s not even worth talking about. ”

“Boy got under your skin, didn’t he?”

Of course Benji saw through her. One didn’t end up as a bartender as long as he’d been and not know how to read people. “Pretty much. It doesn’t make any sense. He’s so…” Gorgeous and broken and kissable.

“That boy has seen some things.” Benji hand washed a few glasses, his gaze on the room.

“A year ago, I’d tell you to steer clear of Cillian O’Malley—not that you’d need the advice.

That boy was trouble personified, and he had no little liking for the ladies.

That’s all changed now, but you should still steer clear of him because of what family he was born into.

He might mean well, but meaning well doesn’t count for shit. ”

That’s what she was afraid of.

“Benji, you’re an awful friend. The first rule of being a wingman is that you don’t warn the beautiful woman away from me.”

Olivia turned, half-sure she’d misheard, but there he was. Cillian sat on the other side of the bar, every hair in place and almost masking the still-healing gash on the side of his head, a casual grin on his face, looking like he hadn’t been beaten all to hell just a week before.

Like he hadn’t completely blown her off since.

She pasted a neutral expression on her face, but from his expression, it wasn’t all that neutral. “Can I get you something?”

“Your number.”

Good lord . “Thanks, but I like to reserve my time for people who actually make time for me .”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It took me longer to bounce back than I expected.” He even looked sorry, like he regretted the absence as much as she had.

Her anger wavered, but she held on to it with both hands. Being with him would always be like this—always me on a need-to-know basis and worrying my idiot self over him. “It’s fine.”

“I may not be a genius, but even I know when a woman says that it means anything but.” He looked at Benji. “How pissed is she right now?”

“ She is standing right here.”

Benji raised his hands. “I’m staying out of it. Olivia, holler if you need something.” Then the coward fled.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re batting a thousand tonight, just like normal.

” Except for that single night last week when he’d been downright human.

More than that, he’d been a person she actually understood on some level and wanted to know more about.

Now he had his pretty boy facade firmly back in place, and his charm grated on her like sandpaper beneath her skin.

It was a slap in the face after how worried she’d been about him. “Apple juice?”

“Please.” He watched her grab a glass and pour the drink. “If it helps, I’m sorry I was gone so long. Things on the home front got away from me, and I had to take care of them before I could get back in here.”

He was probably telling the truth, but that didn’t really change anything.

The fact of the matter was that she’d been right before—no matter how connected she’d felt to him during that night, he wasn’t all that different from Sergei—or every other man in her life up to this point.

He would always put his family obligations before her.

She couldn’t go through that again. She refused to.

And to drag Hadley along with her? Unthinkable.

She passed the apple juice over. “Chalk my accepting your offer up to temporary insanity. I’m not going out with you.”

“Olivia—”

“That’ll be three-fifty.”

He sighed. “I thought we’d gotten past this.”

Hell, she’d thought so, too. But that night was a mistake, and a mistake she didn’t plan on repeating. No matter how delicious he looked tonight in that three-piece suit. Who the hell wore a three-piece suit to a pub?

You’re being petty and you damn well know it.

So what? I’m entitled to being petty .

She really needed to stop having conversations with herself. At this point, she was a few short steps from buying ten cats and holing up in her crappy apartment with Hadley while they waited for the end of the world.

“I’d like to talk.”

She shook herself out of her insanity spiral. “There’s really nothing to talk about.” She hesitated. “I am glad you’re doing better, though.”

“There you go again, making me think you might actually like me.” His smile was wan. “A drink, sweetheart. That’s all I’m asking for.”

It wasn’t, though. Because it wouldn’t stop with a drink.

She’d get drawn in by the chemistry that was still sparking between them and, next thing she knew, she’d be crawling into his lap and getting into all sorts of trouble.

Olivia knew herself well enough to know that.

There was something about Cillian that was like catnip. Common sense didn’t have a hold there.

Which was exactly why she needed to keep him at a distance. “No, thank you.” A girl a few feet down the bar caught her eye and she moved away to fill that drink order, but she could feel Cillian watching her the entire time. It made her skin hot and tingly and, holy hell, it made her want .