18. Cillian
eighteen
Cillian
Later That Night
I’m drunk as fuck.
I’m holed up at my favorite low-key drinking hideout. The Central Tavern is steeped in 90s band nostalgia, with exposed brick walls lined with old concert posters from the grunge era. When I need a stiff drink, this is where I park my ass.
Nursing my fifth—maybe sixth—whiskey and savoring the burn as each sip goes down, I’m vaguely aware of a rock band on stage, though I have no clue who it is. Around me, there’s a soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses.
None of it registers completely. All I can think about is Ivy and what a fucking mess I’m in.
Brock slides into the seat next to me, concern etched on his face. He’s a big guy, all muscle and gruff exterior, but he’s got a heart of gold. He’s been my best friend since we were kids, and he knows me better than anyone.
“Jesus, Cillian.” He takes in my disheveled appearance. “You look like shit. How long have you been here?”
“Fuck off.” I take a swig of my drink.
Undaunted, Brock signals the bartender and orders a beer before turning his attention back to me. “What’s going on? You’ve dodged my calls for two days.”
“It’s Ivy.” I run a hand through my hair, exhaling deeply. “She’s… fuck , Brock, she’s barely eighteen. The night I met her was her birthday.”
Brock’s eyes widen in shock. “Eighteen? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“She lied about her age. Hell, she lied about everything.” I finish my whiskey and signal for another. “She was a virgin and didn’t tell me. I feel like such a dirty fucker. I can never tell my family about this.”
He leans back and lets out a low whistle. “ Rough . How did you find out? ”
“Oh, in front of about a dozen people at Bright Shipping where I was making my final presentation,” I say bitterly. “Imagine my shock. She showed up at the meeting and sat next to Stanley-fucking-Bright and he introduced her as his daughter. I nearly shit my pants.”
Brock shakes his head, running a hand over his face. “Fuck. A hell of a way to find out.”
“Yeah.” I can’t stop my voice from cracking. “But, I got the contract.” I hold up my fresh glass. “ Yay ?”
He winces. “Whoa.”
“I thought she was fucking dead. After her text, I hadn’t heard from her. Didn’t have a goddamn clue what happened. For three days I was out of my fucking mind with worry. Then I see her there. An entirely different person than who she said she was. How can I take this job and spend the next few years around her father knowing I fucked his eighteen-year-old daughter’s virginity away? It’s unbearable.” I take a big swig.
Brock takes a long pull of his beer. “Have you talked to her?”
“How?” I shake my head, the thought of Ivy twisting the knife in my heart. “I have no way to reach her.”
Swirling his chair to face me, Brock grips my wrist. “Kill, don’t beat yourself up. ”
“I feel like a goddamn fool.” I slide the empty glass away. “She’s a kid. I’m fourteen years older than her. I’ve never felt this strongly about someone and I feel like a pervert for…”
It’s the sex. I can’t stop the visions of her beautiful, wondrous face every time I made her come. How incredible it felt, lying in my bed, entwined and naked with Ivy after fucking all night. Washing her hair in the shower while she rode my cock. Licking whipped cream from her nipples.
Everything we did now seems…tainted. I feel disgusting. Like I inadvertently groomed her, or something.
“You didn’t know,” Brock says gently. “You can’t feel bad about something you didn’t know about.”
“Yeah, but why did she lie? Was I some summer fling to her? A way to rebel against her dad? It felt like so much more.” I shake my head, the confusion and anger bubbling up inside me. “I’d have never touched her had I known. It’s unfathomable. I can’t wrap my head around it.”
“What are you going to do?” Brock takes another sip of his beer.
“I have no idea.” I bury my face in my hands. “She’s the daughter of a billionaire. She told me her father was controlling. Maybe I’m just a pawn in some strange family dynamic. Or, maybe she really loved me. I don’t know anymore. ”
“And now you’ve got this contract.” Brock leans forward. “It’s a huge opportunity, Kill. But I get it. It’s complicated as hell.”
An understatement if I’ve ever heard one. “Yeah. I don’t know if I can do it. But, I don’t know if I can’t. This job will catapult the company to a new level. It’s everything I’ve been working toward.”
“You’ve got to figure out what’s more important to you. The job or your sanity.” Brock slugs me in the arm, trying to lighten the mood.
We sit in silence for a moment, the noise of the bar fading into the background. Brock’s correct. I can’t figure out what matters more. It’s not an easy choice.
“I wish I knew why,” I say finally, my voice breaking. “Why she lied to me. What she really wanted. I was in love with her. Am in love with her.”
Brock grips my shoulder. “You may never get those answers. Don’t let it eat you alive, she was with you willingly. You didn’t do anything wrong, she’s a consenting adult. No matter what happens, you’ve got to find a way to move forward.”
As the night wears on and the bar starts to empty, the alcohol and mental exhaustion catches up with me. “I’m fucked.”
If only I could talk to Ivy. Get some closure. I know it’s unlikely, she’s leaving for Stanford soon, and as far as I’m concerned, I’m not initiating contact. She’s off-limits. It’s too dangerous. We can’t continue whatever this fucked-up relationship is, anyway.
As we leave the bar, the cool night air hits my face, a stark contrast to the warmth inside. “Thanks, Brock. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’d probably be face down in a ditch somewhere.” He whacks me on the back. “Seriously, Kill. You’re going to get through this.”
I nod, unconvinced. “I hope so.”
My Uber ride home is quiet, the city lights blur past as I replay the night’s conversation in my mind. I realize, the faster I get over Ivy, the better. I need to forget the past few weeks. Forget about her. She’s leaving for a new life soon. One without me.
A case or two of Jamison 15 should help. No, Red Breast. Fuck it, I’ll get both.
Ten minutes later, I crawl into my bed, which still smells like her. The room spins. Squeezing my eyes shut, I know what I must do. For the first time in days I fall into a dreamless sleep.
A loud pounding on my bedroom door wakes me up the next morning.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I stagger to my feet. There are only a few options of who it could be. My brothers or Brock.
Or Ivy.
I let out a heavy sigh and fling the door open. “What the fuck?”
“Uh, can you put some fucking pants on, man? I don’t need to see your morning wood.” While I pull on some joggers, Brock grabs a chair, spins it around, and sits down, leaning his arms on the backrest. “I’ve decided. You can’t let this Ivy bullshit ruin you, Kill. You’ve got to sign the contract with Bright Shipping. It’s a huge opportunity.”
“I know,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. “The only thing keeping me from signing is how am I supposed to work with Stanley Bright knowing what happened with Ivy? How am I supposed to look him in the eye?”
Brock’s gaze is steady. “You do what you’ve always done. You get the job done. You’re a professional, Cillian. You can’t let your personal feelings screw this up. Remember. You. Did. Nothing. Wrong . ”
The impact of my best friend’s words resonate. He’s right. This contract is too important to let go because of my tangled emotions. I’ll focus on the business and making McGloughlin Construction the success I’ve always dreamed it would be.
“I’m signing the contract.” My voice is firm. “I’ll do the best damn job I can. I’ll make sure Stanley sees me as an asset.”
Brock smiles. “I like your spirit. Don’t let a summer fling ruin everything you’ve worked for.”
My heart aches at the term “summer fling,” but I push the pain aside. Ivy might have lied to me, but I won’t let her deceit define me. I have to be stronger.
“Yeah. I’ll do what I’ve done for years.” I grab a T-shirt from my dresser. “I’ll keep things professional. Pretend like nothing ever happened. I’ve got Stanley Bright’s trust and I’m the man for this job, there’s no need to do anything to fuck it up.”
Brock stands up and heads for the door. “Awesome. Glad to hear it. You’ve got this. Don’t let anything stand in your way.”
Though my head is pounding, after a shower, a couple Tylenol and a bottle of water, I’m as good as new. The road ahead won’t be easy, and the ghost of my love for Ivy will haunt me, but I can’t let it break me. I have to keep moving forward, for the sake of the business and for my own sanity .
I may not have all the answers, and the pain of Ivy’s betrayal will linger for a long fucking time, but I won’t let it destroy me.
I’ll turn this into a victory, no matter what it takes.