Page 18 of Unreasonably Yours

Cillian

“That can go here,” Lucy points beside her table.

“This is why I don't agree to these things.” I set the box down with a huff. “You always turn me into a pack mule.”

“Oh, please.” She opens the plastic tub, directing me to start pulling carefully wrapped jewelry and small sculptures out. “You don't come because you've turned into a boring old man.”

I rub the place over my heart. “Damn, already been shot in the chest once, Lu.”

“Not funny.” She pretends to adjust the intricate chest piece she wears over a leather bustier.

“Come on.” I set the piece I was unwrapping down and try to pull her toward me.

She half-heartedly pushes me away. “Get off me!”

“Nope.”

She rests her chin on my shoulder with a huff, giving in to the hug. “You know I don't find that shit funny.” She was right, I did. Lucy hated my gallows humor .

“I know.” I plant a kiss on her temple and hold her at arm's length. “Forgive me?”

She huffs a sigh. “I guess. But only if you help me pack up.”

I was already planning on it. “Fair.”

Several other vendors and performers stop by as we set up, awestruck by Lucy’s work.

When one of them leaves, I ask, “Am I actually a boring old man?”

“Maybe Toni will make you fun again,” she says.

“I’m being serious.” I don’t know why, maybe it’s turning forty looming in a few years, but it’s bothering me.

She plucks a small half-circle with silvery rays shooting from it off the table. “I mean, when was the last time you agreed to come to something like this with me? Even when I'm not vending.”

I sigh. “Too long.”

When Toni asked if I wanted to come tonight, I almost said no.

I had very few nights off and—as Lucy made painfully clear—too often I chose to spend them at home alone rather than doing anything social.

But I knew Lucy was vending and that she hadn't even asked me to come, assuming she already knew my answer.

It felt like the powers that be were very clearly telling me to get out for once.

She nods. “I know the bar is demanding. But you've gotta make time for Cillian. Which can be boring and restful at times, but it should be fun, too, at least sometimes.” She points the silver rays at me. “And before you say anything, I've had the same conversation with Oliver.”

“I wasn't gonna say anything.” I knew balancing his family's gym and his work as a teacher was a lot. Still, he showed up. “He's more together than any of us.”

“Freak of nature, that boy,” she says with nothing but love.

“We should get him a massage or something. ”

“Like he'd accept it. Come here.”

I side-eye her. “Why?”

“You're lacking sparkle. This is a drag show. You need some flair.” She gestures with the crescent in her hands.

“How am I lacking?” I waggle my fingers, showing off my rings and silver nails.

“Trust me. You need more WOW.” She turns me around, pushing me to kneel. With skilled fingers, she pulls the tie from my hair, parting it and pulling half of it back up. She settles the half circle around the bun, attaching it with a hairpin.

She walks around me to inspect her work. “Perfect.”

I stand and check the mirror on her table. The base of the hairpiece is almost invisible, making the silver rays appear as if they were each attached to my hair. Admittedly, it looks cool as fuck. A bit of flair, like she said, without being too much.

“Ok. You win. This is fucking sick.” Lucy’s lack of gloating over her victory strikes me as suspicious. I look up to see her transfixed on something—or rather someone—behind me.

“Bro,” she says, wonder in her voice.

“What?” I follow her gaze.

Toni stands near the door, cheerfully chatting with a slender guy in an iridescent ensemble. He shakes his frohawk at her, fine glitter sparkling in the air, making her laugh with delight.

As if that laugh of hers isn’t enough to make me stupid, she’s chosen a look that might actually kill me.

Black lace covers her from neck to ankle, a modest silhouette excepting the fact that the piece lacks any lining save for her black undergarments.

She shifts, revealing a dangerous slit crawling up her thigh.

The effect leaves an interested onlooker with the knowledge of exactly what they’re missing out on.

“Jesus Christ,” I huff, heat crawling up my neck.

“Remember what I said about forgiving you if you helped me pack up?” Lucy asks, still gawking.

“Yeah?”

“I take it back, so long as you take her home.”

“You're a fuckin' saint, Lu.”

“Don't give me too much credit,” Facing me, she begins walking backward toward Toni. “If you fumble this, I’m shooting my shot.” She winks.

Toni meets Lucy’s enthusiastic embrace without hesitation.

“Did you make this?” She asks, holding Lucy at arm's length.

Lucy’s chest piece really is an incredible work of art. The front is a metal sternum and ribcage, each bone connected to the whole with delicate links of handmade chain, while individual vertebrae hang down the back.

“Of course!” Lucy spins, giving Toni a 360 view.

“She does know it's unfair to suck up all the talent in the room, right?” Toni asks me.

“She knows. Just doesn't care.”

“It's not my fault I'm incredible,” Lucy says over her shoulder before turning her attention to a potential customer.

“Speaking of incredible.” I indicate Toni's entire being. “How am I supposed to focus on the show?”

A slow grin makes her dimple pop, and my knees shake. “Maybe I don't want you to focus on the show.”

Given half a chance, this woman might undo me.

I spend the rest of the night trying and failing to keep my hands to myself.

When we grab our drinks at the bar, they wander to Toni's waist, pulling her against me. At our table, they reach for the soft expanse of her thigh, giving a greedy squeeze here and there. When my arm makes its way across her shoulders, her hand finds mine, fingers tangling casually.

The only thing that could coax me to relinquish the connection for a moment is Jac choosing Toni for an impressive lap dance during their already fantastic performance. As they finish, they grace me with a knowing wink that seems to echo Lucy’s earlier warning.

Don’t fumble this.

When they return to the stage, I grab hold of the back of Toni's harness, pulling her against me gently.

“Jealous?” She whispers into my ear. The puff of breath makes me tingle all over.

“Nah.” I let my lips graze her ear lobe, feeling more than a little smug at the way her body reacts. “Just making sure you remember who you're coming home with.” I drag a finger across the soft curve of her jaw, letting my thumb barely graze her bottom lip. “If you want,” I add.

Toni's eyes burn. “Oh, I want.”

I steal a brief kiss. “Good.”