Chapter Twenty-Two
Eoin
Dáithí doesn’t get back until late in the afternoon, which works out perfectly for me.
I had time to clean the whole place from top to bottom, including under the furniture and rugs.
I even managed to give the inside of the windows a once-over.
His place isn’t big—at all—but cleaning it that thoroughly took hours, even using magic to help move things around.
Technically, I had permission to use magic for the whole job, but the standard cleaning spells I already know wouldn’t have achieved the outcome I wanted, and it would have taken longer to design new spells than it did to just clean manually.
Maybe if this was something I planned to do all the time, like if I was a cleaner or something, it would be worth the time.
By the time I hear the front door open, I’m sacked out on the couch, feet up, brimming with smug satisfaction.
“Eoin?” Dáithí calls.
“I’m in here.”
He appears in the doorway a second later, Elsking’s carrier in his hand. “Why does it smell like fresh cookies and tréghel leaves?”
“Because you like both those things. It’s a room-scenting spell.”
The sound he makes is a combination of surprise and delight. “My house is always going to smell like this?”
Shrugging, I get to my feet and go over to kiss him. Nothing will ever be as amazing as the feel of his lips against mine—except maybe that happy smile on his face. “Unless we end the spell, or stop refreshing it. It’s good for a couple of years, but it’ll need to be touched up at that point.”
“Why would I want to end it? You’ve made my house smell like home.
” He bends over and carefully sets down the crate, then throws his arms around me and squeezes.
“How can you know what I need when I don’t even know it?
” he mumbles against my neck. I wrap him up in my hold and breathe in the precious scent of him.
When he finally lifts his head and presses a kiss to my jaw, his smile is back.
“Okay, you’ve managed to make the place smell amazing, and the little bit I’ve seen so far is cleaner than it’s ever been before, probably including when it was brand-new.
Let me put Elsking in her hutch, and you can wow me with the rest.”
I let him go and wait for him to—
“Fuck me, what did you do to the hutch?”
—see the changes I made. “Is it okay?” I don’t think he’ll be mad, but I probably should have checked with him. I figured it would be fine, since he dotes on Elsking.
“Is it okay? Are you really asking me if it’s okay that you built an extension for Elsking’s hutch and added what looks like a super cool multi-level playground made of tunnels?”
It’s hard to tell if he’s mad with the incredulous surprise still so strong in his voice. “Yeah.”
He laughs. “Of course it’s okay! Eoin, it’s incredible—she’s going to love it.
I can’t believe you did this.” He opens the gate of the carrier and scoops Elsking out, then sets her carefully in the hutch.
We both watch as she takes a moment to get her bearings, then cautiously sniffs around where I took out the back wall and added more space and the tunnel system.
“The assistant at the hardware store walked me through it when I went to get the stuff for the new spice rack.” I don’t tell him why I was asking about it in the first place—I want to do more research first and make sure I have all the facts.
And if it turns out my concerns are unfounded, no harm done.
Elsking will still be able to enjoy the extra space.
“It’s perfect,” Dáithí assures me as Elsking crawls into the first tunnel. “Thank you.” He loops an arm around my waist and leans against me. “I don’t deserve you.”
Alarm explodes through me, and even though I try not to show it, I can’t stop my body from stiffening. “Dáithí—”
He straightens and forces a smile. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I think I will, though, because that sounded like the kind of thing someone says right before breaking up.” I study his face, but he’s giving nothing away.
“You agreed to give me this chance, and I’m not done with the tasks.
” Even as I say the words, I’m aware of how empty they are.
If Dáithí really wants to end us and walk away, I can’t—won’t—force him to stay.
The challenge is only valid if we both want to be here, trying to make things work.
His shrug is tiny, but somehow… reassuring? “I’m not backing out, Eoin.”
Okay. That’s good. Then why… “You don’t actually think you don’t deserve me, do you?”
He must hear the disbelief in my tone, because his smile reappears and his eyes go soft as he lifts a hand to my cheek. I turn my head to kiss his fingers. “I think it’s more complicated than that. It was pointed out to me today that I haven’t exactly been fair to you.”
“I suggested—”
“Yeah, but—”
“Dáithí, we’re both—”
“Okay, stop!” He’s laughing now, and it eases me to see it. “I don’t want to argue about this. Just know that I’m fully aware of how awesome you are, and I’m trying to get over myself.”
My mind flashes back to what Ari said the other week about Dáithí having been hurt in the past. Maybe I didn’t give that as much weight as I should have—I was so sure Dáithí would have mentioned it, but it could have been too painful to talk about.
Because if it’s not me that’s keeping him from making a commitment, it has to be him, right?
Why else would he say he needs to “get over himself”?
And I’ve known him long enough to have seen him in relationships before, so it’s not that he’s got commitment issues…
which leaves past trauma. Something that hurt him so deeply, he doesn’t like to talk about it much.
I make a mental note to discreetly ask around and see what I can find out. In the meantime… “Who said you haven’t been fair? Jared?” I hope not. Me yelling at my boss’s boyfriend isn’t something I ever wanted to do.
Relief flashes across his face, and I file that away to think about later too. “Not Jared, Felix. My new bestie, which means he’s allowed to say stuff like that.” He pats my chest. “Now, show me the rest of the place. Let’s start with the spice rack.”
“I’m just saying, it’s ridiculous that even our Uber driver knows where we’re going, but I still don’t,” Dáithí argues.
He’s been saying variations of the same thing for the past twenty minutes, and I smile and nod just like I have every other time.
It wins me a glare, but he’s not really mad.
If anything, he’s excited by all the secrecy.
I hope this date lives up to the hype.
“You’re sure I’m dressed right?” he asks. “If I’m not because you didn’t tell me what our destination was, I’ll never let it go, you know that, right?”
“I know, and you’re dressed right.” I lean in and murmur against his ear, “You look incredibly fuckable.” It’s true—I told him to dress sexy for going out, and he did—but what puts it over the top is knowing what he’s wearing underneath those jeans that are so tight, he had to lie down to get them on.
He flicks me a flirty glance through his lashes and lays a hand high on my thigh. “You say the sweetest things… but that one’s true.”
I chuckle as the car slows, and then our driver pulls over and stops at the curb.
“This is as close as I can get without double-parking,” he says apologetically. “Is that okay?”
Glancing out the window, I assure him it is, then tip and thank him as Dáithí and I slide out. Our destination is three doors up, but even from here it’s obvious what it is.
“A club?” He turns an excited smile to me. “We’re going dancing?”
“We’re going dancing,” I confirm, looping an arm around him and steering him along the street. “Three guesses who the guest DJ is tonight.”
“It’s someone I’d know? Hm, okay… Wait, community or human?” He glances around to make sure nobody overheard, but we’re close enough to the club now that noise from the people in line mingles with the music spilling from inside and makes eavesdropping hard.
“Community. This is a community club—a community queer club.”
His face lights up with the understanding that he can fully relax tonight without having to be on guard against bigots or slipping up in front of unknowing humans.
“You’re seriously gifted when it comes to planning dates, Eoin. Okay, a community DJ that I’d know…” His eyes go wide. “It’s not Adjoa K?”
I wink, and the sound he makes can only be called a squeal. “How? I thought she was in Europe for the rest of the summer?”
“There you are!” Hagen bounces up to us before I have to come up with an answer to Dáithí’s question. “Finally! We’ve been waiting forever.” He gestures toward a group of people, and Dáithí glances in that direction, then looks up at me.
“You invited friends?”
For a split second, I wonder if it was the wrong decision and he would have preferred it to be just us. Then he pulls me in for a big, wet kiss, and I mentally pat myself on the back for getting it right.
“Thank you! Clubbing is so much more fun with a group.” He abandons my side to say hi to the others, a mix of friends from work and outside of it, and Hagen slaps me on the shoulder.
“Dude, you just got here, and I can already tell you got points for this one.”
My gaze follows Dáithí, who’s jabbing a finger at Ari for reasons I can only guess at. “I hope so.”
“Pfft. I know so. It’s never been a secret that he loves to dance. This would have been a winner even without all the extra bells and whistles you added.”
“Maybe, but it’s worth it anyway.”
He rolls his eyes and hauls me over to the group. “Come on, we’re all here now. Let’s get inside. The bouncer wouldn’t let us in without you.”
“We’re all on the guest list?” Dáithí asks, turning away from Ari, who looks relieved. “How did you get tickets to Adjoa K for such a big group?”
“Eoin sprang for bottle service,” Caoimhe says before I can stop her, and Dáithí’s jaw drops.
“For all of us?”
“I got a discount,” I excuse, then make for the door before he can ask why. The bouncer eyes me with jaded weariness until I tell him my name and show ID, and then he’s all smiles, radioing for someone to come and meet us and ushering us inside.
Even though it’s early and the opening DJ is still playing, the club is already packed wall-to-wall with bodies.
Our server leads us upstairs to the VIP section, which is warded to reduce the noise level and where we have two booths reserved.
Within five minutes, our first bottles have been opened and poured.
For a little while, we drink and talk, and with Dáithí pressed up against my side and the distant vibration of the bass, it’s easy to relax.
We should do this more often—not the VIP thing, though I can’t deny I like it, but getting out with friends.
This is something I enjoy, and fuck knows Dáithí loves it, so why has it taken the challenge for me to make it happen?
“Let’s dance,” I say to Dáithí, suddenly determined not to waste a second of this night. I toss back the remainder of the champagne in my glass.
He grins at me and follows suit, and then we race each other down the stairs to the crowded dance floor.
Being pressed up against Dáithí is always my idea of a good time. Pressed up against him while he moves to the beat, head thrown back, exulting in the music?
Fucking outstanding.