34. Cillian
thirty-four
Cillian
Two Weeks Later
Thirty-eight months.
As of today, the Bright Shipping headquarters job is officially my longest, and we have approximately six months to go.
It hasn’t been easy. It’s taken years to navigate the permitting process, tackle zoning issues with tribal river lands, and managing land use laws, which protect the historically polluted Duwamish River. Working with Peter Vander has been invaluable. I’ve developed a true passion for conservation.
Ivy is waiting for me to join her at a meeting with subcontractor Zack Fisk, who owns the company we’ve hired to handle the interior buildout. Last week the sheetrock was completed, which means it’s time to finalize selecting finishing materials for the flooring, bathrooms, plumbing, and electric.
I approach from the shipping terminal and enter the building through what will eventually be a functioning loading dock. On my way to the staging area, I breathe in the smell of fresh primer on the newly sheet rocked walls. I love this stage. Everything is clean and pristine, on the cusp of completion.
Up ahead, Ivy, dressed in a simple white blouse and black slacks, is intently focused on Zack, who shows her samples of different tile. As I get nearer, the magnetic pull between us activates and she looks up to see me walking toward her. Our eyes meet, a jolt of electricity zaps me in my balls. A hint of a smile dances across her face.
“What do you think, Cillian?” Ivy holds up two tiles, the first a gray, textured stone, the other an off-white flecked ceramic.
I take them from her, deliberately brushing my fingers over hers. “Bathrooms?”
“Yeah. I love the stone tiles because they have a nice texture.” Ivy drags her fingers over the surface and looks up at me longingly. “I think the dark color is a bit too harsh for the overall design, though.”
I nod in agreement. “What about this one?” I pick up a lighter, more neutral tile and caress the surface. “It has the texture but might blend better with the rest of the design.”
“ Ooooh .“ She smiles, her eyes sparkling. “You’re right. Great choice.”
After we flirt our way through more selections, Zack packs the rest of his samples and leaves, not before waggling his eyes at me on the way out.
Once he’s gone, Ivy and I set off on our mission. One we don’t even need words for. Side by side, we trek through the building, out the front entrance and make our way to my office. On the way, we keep up the ruse of discussing the best materials for the flooring, but the sexual tension between us is palpable. Each brush of our hands sends my pulse racing.
All of the on-site offices are in converted shipping containers. Vander Architecture has one, Bright Shipping has another designated for the subcontractors, and McGloughlin Construction has the last.
Ivy follows me up the portable stairs and I can feel the anticipation building. The second we step inside and close and lock the door behind us, the floodgates open. Our lips crash together and our hands hungrily tear each other’s clothes off. The passion between us is overwhelming, a force of nature we can’t resist.
“I’ve missed you so much,” Ivy murmurs between kisses, her fingers tangling in my hair.
“I’ve missed you too.” I pull her closer and pull down her bra to expose her tits. “Every minute feels like an eternity without you.”
We collapse on the small couch in the office, our bodies entwined. The world outside ceases to exist as we lose ourselves in each other. It’s fast and furious because we don’t have much time, but I make sure Ivy comes before I do. Afterward, we lie there, breathless and sated. Not for long, though.
The reality of our situation weighs heavily on both of us.
“Cillian,” Ivy says softly, her head resting on my chest. “I hate we still haven’t told my parents about us.”
I rub her back. “I know. But with your dad’s setback and his new treatment, we didn’t have much of a choice.”
The Monday after Ivy’s birthday, a cancer-related complication landed Stan in the hospital. The scare led to a more-aggressive treatment plan, but thankfully, he’s nearly recovered and feeling better than before.
“Yeah. His health is most important now, but it doesn’t make it any easier. At least his prognosis has improved dramatically.” Her voice is tinged with frustration and fear .
“There’s no pressure, baby,” I say, my heart aching at the thought of causing her more stress. “Obviously, we need to tell them sooner rather than later because you deserve more than a quick fuck in the office. Plus, everyone knows everything around here. We’re gonna get caught. Even Zack could tell something’s going on with us. We can’t hide how we feel.”
Ivy sighs and looks down, her fingers tracing circles on my hand resting on her thigh. “Maybe we should talk to my mom. At least then we’ve told one of my parents. She might understand and help us figure out the best way to approach my dad.” She kisses my chest. “We can’t keep this up. I want to wake up with you.”
“Talking to your mom sounds like a good first step.” I brush her hair from her face. “Especially if she helps us navigate this without causing more stress for your dad. I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” she says softly. “I’m sorry it’s…”
Before Ivy can respond, a loud knock echoes through the trailer door. “Cillian! Stanley Bright just pulled up!” Brock’s aware what’s happening in here between Ivy and me. Thank God he has my back.
My heart races as I realize the urgency of our predicament.
Ivy’s eyes widen in panic as she scrambles to grab her clothes. “Hurry, Cillian,” she urges, buttoning up her blouse with fumbling fingers. She toes on her shoes and smooths her hair back into a ponytail.
Simultaneously, I hastily pull on my cargo pants and T-shirt, glancing around to make sure we haven’t left any obvious signs of our tryst.
“We need to look busy.” Her voice trembles as she hands me my beanie.
The situation is a fucking nightmare. We can’t go on like this.
“Maybe we should tell him now,” I suggest cautiously.
She shakes her head. “Not until I talk to Mom. I don’t want to add more stress to his plate.”
“I get it.” I keep my voice gentle. “But this is crazy. Look at us . We’re doing exactly what we said we wouldn’t do.”
A firm knock sounds at the door, making both of us freeze. Stan’s voice follows. “Cillian? Why is the door locked?”
Ivy’s eyes dart to mine and we share a moment of silent panic.
I take a deep breath and move to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open with what I hope is a casual smile. “Sorry, Stan. We were discussing some sensitive documents and didn’t want any interruptions.”
Ivy’s dad raises an eyebrow, glancing between Ivy and me. “In the middle of the day?” he questions, clearly suspicious .
Ivy and I exchange a quick, nervous look, trying to play it off as best as we can.
Stan steps inside, his gaze sharp as it sweeps over the room. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything too important.”
Ivy looks flustered and sick to her stomach. She clutches a stack of papers, which look like payroll sheets. “Yes, we were, um, discussing some sensitive budget adjustments. We didn’t want the subcontractors to, uh…” she stammers, her cheeks flushing.
My God, she’s terrible at this. Then again, I hate she’s in this position in the first place.
“Yeah.” I force a chuckle, trying to divert his attention. “We picked out interior finishes today and want to make sure everything is on track.”
Stan’s eyes narrow slightly as he continues to glance around the room, clearly trying to piece together what he’s walked in on. “If you say so.”
“You look well, how are you feeling?” I try to change the subject.
“I’m fine.” He waves me off. “I wanted to discuss a few changes to the plans. Can we go over them now?”
“Of course.” I motion to the table. “Let’s get started.”
After an intense hour of going over his ideas, Stan finally stands up, stretching his back slightly. “Alright, I think we’ve covered everything for now. ”
I get up too, extending my hand. “Thanks for coming by, Stan. We’ll implement these changes right away.”
“I’ll keep you updated on the progress.” Ivy’s still trying to maintain her composure. I’ve never seen her rattled quite like this.
Stan shakes my hand firmly before turning to Ivy. “I appreciate it, sweetheart.” His gaze lingers a moment longer, as if searching for something.
“Of course.” She’s unable to keep eye contact and glances away.
“One more thing—maybe keep the door unlocked during the workday.” He says as he heads toward the door. “People could talk. I don’t want anyone to question Ivy’s professionalism.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Ivy’s cheeks slightly flush and I do my best to appear calm and collected.
“Thanks for thinking of me, Dad,” Ivy mutters as we follow him to the door, exchanging glances behind his back conveying we’re lucky to have narrowly gotten away with it.
Then, Stan’s eyes catch something and he squints in the direction of the couch.
In a slow motion, horror-show way, Ivy and I both follow her dad’s line of vision. There, on the floor under the couch, is a scrap of pink fabric—unmistakable .
Ivy’s panties.
Stan pauses for a fraction of a second, his gaze lingering before he turns back to look at Ivy, then at me, then at her again.
His face hardens to stone. “Ivy, seems like you lost something.” He points to the panties. His voice is low and measured, but the icy tension is palpable. “Dinner is at 5:30 sharp. Do not be late .”
Ivy’s face drains of color, and she quickly retrieves her panties, stuffing them into her pocket with trembling hands. “Yes, Dad.”
Stan gives a final, cutting look at both of us before turning on his heel and walking out without another word. The door closes behind him with a soft click, but the silence it leaves is deafening.
Ivy slumps down on the couch, her face flushed with embarrassment. “ Oh my God , Cillian.” Her voice quivers. “When he goes quiet like that…this is bad. Really bad.”
An understatement, to say the least.
“ Fuck . We knew this was complicated.” I scrub my stubble with my fingers. “I didn’t expect it to blow up like this.”
“What am I gonna do?” Ivy hugs herself.
“We.” I go to her and envelop her in my arms. “What are we going to do.”
Ivy’s not alone in this and I won’t let her face her parents without me.
We wanted to stop hiding.
Now we’ve been outed in the worst possible way.