Chapter 22 - Ciarán
twenty two-Ciarán
I leaned against the wall by the hotel door, a glass of whiskey in hand, swirling the liquid around but not drinking it.
I told myself it was because I needed a clear head for the talk we were about to have, but the truth was uglier—I might actually have to start taking my meds again.
And you don’t mix that shit with liquor.
Everything that happened tonight had that familiar, staticky unease crawling back under my skin.
The crash after a high always threatened to be a hard one. But I’d handle it.
“J,” I said finally, breaking the silence.
Jordin was sitting on the edge of the hotel sofa, her knees pulled up slightly, scrolling through her phone like she wasn’t aware of my eyes on her. But I knew better. She was always aware—of herself, of me, of the tension that lingered like static electricity whenever we were in the same room.
She looked up, her eyes meeting mine. “Yeah?”
I pushed off the wall and walked over, sitting down in the armchair across from her. I set my glass on the coffee table, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. “What are we doing here?”
Her brow furrowed, and she set her phone aside. “What do you mean? Here, as in this hotel?”
“No,” I said, my voice soft but steady. “Here, as in you and me. Us. This thing we keep dancing around but not really saying out loud. What are we doing?”
She sighed, leaning back against the couch cushions. Her hand came up to fiddle with the charm on her bracelet—a nervous tic I’d noticed she did when trying to collect her thoughts.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“I’m not trying to push you into anything. You know that. But… with everything going on—with your divorce and all the emotions that come with it—and after what happened tonight, I need to know. Are you here because you want to be? Or because you need a distraction from how your life blew up?”
I almost rolled my own eyes. She had me out here sounding like a woman.
Her lips pressed together, and her eyes dropped to her lap. For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Then she looked up, her gaze locking onto mine with a seriousness that made my chest tighten.
“I’m here because I want to be,” she said softly. “But I’m scared, Ci. I’m leaning on you too much, using you to fill a void I’m supposed to heal on my own.”
I nodded slowly, her words hitting me like a weight. “I get that. But J, I don’t want to be your rebound. I’d rather just be your friend. As far as you leaning on me? I want you to. It makes me feel less like I’m taking from you.”
“You’re not a rebound,” she said quickly, her voice firm. “I promise, you’re not. But this… whatever this is between us—it’s not something I’ve figured out yet. And I don’t think you have either.”
She wasn’t wrong. I hadn’t figured it out.
All I knew was that she consumed my thoughts, my dreams, every fucking breath I took.
But I didn’t want to scare her off by saying that.
I also knew that once we crossed the line, there wasn’t any going back.
I was keeping her, and I didn’t know if I was ready for that yet.
“Maybe we don’t need to figure it out right now,” I said finally. “Maybe we just… take it one step at a time. See where it goes.”
She nodded. “I can do that. One step at a time.”
The tension in the room eased slightly, but a different kind of charge took its place—the memory of the night, of the club, of her hands on me and the crowd screaming my name. Her name.
“About earlier,” I said, my voice dropping lower.
She knew exactly what I meant. A slow, knowing smile touched her lips. “What about it?”
“The club,” I said. “What happened there… I don’t think I’ve ever…”
“Let go like that?” she finished for me, a teasing glint in her eyes.
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Yeah. That.”
She laughed softly, and the sound was like a balm to my frayed nerves.
“I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it,” she admitted.
“You don’t know me as well as you think,” I said, smirking. “I don’t back down from a challenge.”
Her smile softened, and she leaned forward slightly. “I’ll admit, it was… different. Seeing you like that. Trusting me like that.”
“What about you?” I asked, my gaze steady on hers. “How did it feel to be in control?”
Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked away, a small laugh escaping her. “It felt… powerful. But also kind of scary. Controlling somebody like that…”
I nodded. I heard her. But I had a question. “So when’s my turn, Mistress?”
She rolled her eyes and stood. “I’m going to take a shower.”