13. Astrid
thirteen
Astrid
A Couple Hours Later
T he quiet hum of Brennan’s car nearly lulls me to sleep.
My belly’s full. I haven’t eaten this much in years. Good God, if I ate Maureen McGloughlin’s food every day, I’d be three hundred pounds in no time. I’m content and comfortable.
And exhausted .
It’s nearly nine p.m. We’re driving back to my place as the late-spring sky darkens into deep navy. The city lights twinkle as we cruise down the nearly empty road on the way to my houseboat. Despite a bit of family drama toward the end of the night, I enjoyed my time with Brennan’s family immensely. It sure was a far cry from dinner at my house the night before.
I glance at Brennan. His jaw is still tight as he focuses on the road. He hasn’t said much since we left. I can tell he’s still thinking about what went down after dinner.
“So.” I break the silence in an attempt to snap him out of his mood. “You haven’t said a word. How’d it go with your dad and Seamus? Your mom told me you guys needed to ‘hash things out’ when she came in to do the dishes with me.”
Brennan shakes his head. “Classic Ma. She always bails when it comes to talking about alcoholism. It’s like she wants to bury her head in the sand.”
Uh. No . She understood what she was doing, leaving him to talk with his dad and Seamus. Sometimes men can be so fucking dense.
“Actually, she told me it was rare for you and Seamus to be the only brothers at dinner. She wanted you both to have time with your dad.” I let the words sink in for a second. “She’s perceptive, your mom.”
Brennan raises an eyebrow, surprised. “What did she say?”
“Well, she mentioned your dad’s always been close with Cillian. Told me Connor and the twins were practically grown when he had the accident. She knows you and Seamus were ‘caught in the crossfire,’ as she put it. Thought it’d be beneficial for the three of you to air things out.”
He’s quiet for a moment, processing. “Huh. I didn’t think she noticed.”
“Mothers notice everything when they’re interested.” I turn slightly in my seat to face him. “Maybe you should start focusing your stellar observation skills on your family instead of holding on to all that resentment.”
“Resentment?” Brennan gives me a sideways smirk, half-amused, half-annoyed. “Ya think?”
“I do because I live it with my own family and my mom is about the most uninterested mother on the planet. Yours is amazing.” I challenge lightly. “You seem to notice a lot about me—use those superpowers to get to learn about your parents as they are now.”
Brennan shuffles his grip on the steering wheel. “I wish it were that simple.”
I stay quiet, giving him a little space. I don’t want to push too hard. Brennan isn’t one to vomit out his feelings without processing them ad nauseum. It’s clearly been a heavy night for him.
“Well…we did talk about some heavy shit.” He speaks after a few minutes. “Ma’s dead-on. I think Seamus and I—” He stops himself.
Rather than insert myself into the narrative, I wait. Not rushing him. He sucks in a breath and blows it out slowly.
“Seamus and I confronted Dad about…well, his own drinking and how similar Cillian’s behavior is to his. We remember everything and how scary it was. Connor’s come to terms with things; the twins don’t really give him the time of day. Ironically, the only brother who hasn’t had some sort of beef with Da, is Cillian.” Brennan drums his fingers in a steady rhythm on the console—his subconscious habit when he’s deep in thought. “Jesus. Seamus really laid into him about Cillian.”
I tilt my head, curious. “He did? What did he say?”
“He pointed out Cillian’s heading down the same road Da did, with the drinking. Missing work and deadlines. Family dinners. Seamus delved into the medical stuff pretty deeply. Talked about how badly this is messing him up. Physically. Mentally.” I can feel the frustration radiating off him. “The thing is, we can’t blame this behavior on his breakup. He was heading down that path a long time before he met her. It’s fucking hereditary. He needs help.”
I nod slowly, letting the weight of his words settle between us. “You can’t force Cillian to get help or listen to any of you. Trust .”
“Yeah.” Brennan’s voice catches. “Da didn’t want to hear it. He was so defensive. It’s like he doesn’t want to admit how all of us were affected by what he put us through. He’s sober now. Repentant. Sorry and whatever. He’s Irish, though. Doesn’t believe in counseling. Or therapy. It’s been a long time and we’re still dealing with the fallout.”
I place my hand on his arm. “None of this is easy to face. For any of you.”
“I’m sorry you got dragged into it. I brought you over for dinner because I hoped you could meet Cillian.” He turns onto my street. “I’m such a shit brother. When I get absorbed at work, sometimes weeks go by and I don’t even realize it. We haven’t hung out in months when we used to do everything together. I want to be there for him.”
There’s a heaviness lingering in the car now. The kind that’s attributable to a deep conversation about family. Through every pore of my body I sense his frustration. Feel his fear. See how much self-imposed responsibility he puts on himself to take care of his grown-ass brothers.
I understand it, because I’ve lived it.
There’s nothing he can do to change it.
We pull up to my slip and the soft glow of the exterior lights on my houseboat reflect off the water. Brennan puts the car in park but doesn’t make a move to get out. I unbuckle my seatbelt and sit back, watching him. He stares out the windshield, lost in thought.
“I’m going to tell you the truth and you’re not going to like it.” I face him and rest my hand on his thigh. “You’re not responsible for Cillian. I know you feel like you are, but he’s an adult. He has to recognize his problem and want to get better.”
Brennan runs a hand through his hair, clearly torn. “I know, but it’s not easy to watch.”
“You can’t fix everything, Brennan. Not your dad, not your brothers.” I stroke his thigh. “Your focus needs to be on yourself while you’re in this transaction, otherwise the worry’s going to break you.”
His eyes bore into mine. “It already feels like I’m breaking.”
My heart clenches at the helplessness in his voice. For all his strength and intelligence, Brennan has too much on his plate.
We sit for a moment, just breathing. The lights of the city and the sloshing of the lake water surround us. My plan, before everything happened at dinner, was to come back here, fuck my man all night and maybe have a chat in the morning about how we make things official.
It’s not the time, though.
Last night I was in a state of despair and he took care of me. It led to hours upon hours of the best sex of my life—and his, so he says. But …and there is a huge but. Our timing is fucking awful. I can’t—and won’t—add to his stress.
I’m crazy about Brennan and I think he feels the same way. We need to let this new phase of our friendship percolate without pressure.
“Look.” I reach up and stroke his cheek. “Last night was special. Intense. Beautiful. But, I think you and I both know we’re not ready to take the next step.”
His face falls, confused. “What? No! I thought… Um, you don’t want to see me anymore?”
“No!” I shake my head vigorously. Then swallow, trying to find the words. “I mean, this,” I gesture between us, “is worth protecting. You’re already stressed about work and your family, I’m not about to add labels on our relationship to put obligations to me on your plate.”
He stares at me for a moment. Nods slowly like he thinks I’m letting him down easy. “Okay. I know I suck at all the boyfriend things, but damn.”
“Brennan. Please don’t misunderstand. I’m not saying I don’t want us to pursue things romantically,” I quickly clarify. “I do . But we both have a lot going on and how we are together makes me happy. Just because we’ve had sex shouldn’t change anything.”
He nods again, this time definitively. “Okay, we can go that route. For clarity, though, I want to have a lot of sex with you.”
Brennan leans in slowly, his hand cups the side of my face and his thumb brushes my cheek, sending warmth straight through me. His lips meet mine softly. Tentatively. Testing the waters. Then the kiss deepens. Grows sure and confident. There’s a quiet passion, a promise that lingers in the way his mouth moves against mine. Slow. Deliberate. As if he’s savoring this moment but also promising our story is only beginning.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. I can still feel the heat of his lips. The silence between us isn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it feels like a necessary pause—like we’re both on board to step back and take stock of where we are and what’s happening between us.
“I’m going to head inside.” I reach for the door handle. “Thank you for tonight. For bringing me to meet your family. I know there were some tough conversations but I love all of them. They’re so different from my people.”
He watches me, his expression softening. “Thank you for coming. I didn’t expect it to go pear shaped, but I’m glad you were there.”
“Me too.” I lean over and give him another quick kiss.
We exchange a look and before either of us articulate the unsaid words hanging between us, I step out into salty night air. The familiar sound of water lapping against the dock comforts me as I make my way up the dock to the houseboat. When I reach my front door, I turn back to see Brennan still sitting in the car, watching me until I’ve unlocked it.
I wave and he lifts a hand in return. A small smile tugs at his lips. I step inside and his car pulls away, leaving me standing in the glow of the deck lights, wondering if I made the correct decision.
Moments later, I sink down onto the couch and stare out at the lake. Grateful for a moment of solitude to reflect on the past twenty-four hours. A sense of comfort settles over me.
It’s been a lot. More than I expected.
Not quite enough.
In a strange way, for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m moving forward.
Even if it means giving myself time to breathe.