Chapter 53
Fifty-Three
“Peace is the most dangerous thing of all—because it convinces you the storm is over.”—Aria Boschett.
Early morning light spills across our tangled bodies, pale gold threading through the quiet. I trace the edge of the sheet draped low over his hip, grounding myself in the warmth beside me. We’re wrapped in the aftermath of something sacred and beautiful. Only one secret still lingers. Ethan.
“Cyan?” I whisper. He doesn’t stir. His breathing stays deep and even. I rise up from his chest and watch him for another moment. He’s asleep; the man needs his rest. I’ll tell him when we’re both awake.
When I wake again, sunlight cuts through a narrow gap in the blackout curtains.
Cyan must’ve pulled them shut sometime earlier.
He always thinks about what I need, even when I’m not aware of it.
The thought warms my chest. I reach for him, but the bed is empty.
He’s probably in the kitchen. I stretch, sighing, contentment settling deep in my bones until guilt punches straight through it.
“Oh, shit.” The girls. I left them last night, swept away by the storm that is Cyan.
Sure, he dragged me out of the dance floor.
Once we started, I hadn’t exactly protested.
Somewhere between the office, the desk, me against the glass, our night became a blur of heat and shadows.
I’d turned into a sex-drunk nympho, and Cyan, ever the hypersexual deviant, had let me indulge. I glance at the clock.
1:04 PM.
I’ve slept half the day away. My body is sore, satisfied, and starving as I slide out of bed with three urgent thoughts colliding at once:I need a shower, food and to apologize to my friends.
By the time I finish rinsing off and throwing on something comfy, I shuffle into the kitchen, still towel-drying my curls, and freeze.
Tasha, Saaha, and Gracie are slumped around the table, heads down like hungover zombies.
Rosa, meanwhile, stands at the stove, flipping something that smells heavenly.
“Rosa? Girls, you’re here?” I say, bright with relief.
“Yeah,” Tasha groans without lifting her head. “No need to shout. I already have drums playing inside my skull.”
“These not-so-smart girlfriends of yours let my boys challenge them to a drink-off,” Rosa adds, flipping a pancake with theatrical flair. “I don’t know what they were thinking. Those boys are Irish. You girls never stood a chance.”
“Well,” Saaha mumbles, cheek pressed to the table, “I am a natural overachiever. It’s in my DNA to aim for the top of every class.”
“Same,” Gracie adds weakly.
“Tasha and Saaha, I get how you two were egged on,” I grin teasing. “But Gracie? You don’t seem like the type to get caught up in guy-driven chaos.”
“It’s Thomas,” she mutters, voice muffled. “Ever since we were kids, he’s known exactly how to get under my skin.”
Tasha finally lifts her head, eyes glittering with mischief. “Well, we had to entertain ourselves somehow, since the lady of the hour disappeared to get her brains screwed out in the office bathroom.”
Heat rushes to my face. “How do you even know that?”
“We were worried when your caveman dragged you off,” Gracie says. “Somehow, Tasha convinced Collin to bring us up with the others.”
“And when we burst in to rescue you,” Tasha says, ever the dramatic, “we heard.” She deepens her voice. “Cyan, don’t stop. Harder.”
Saaha props her head in her hands. “My personal favorite was—Cyan, your cock is so addictive it should be worshiped.” The kitchen explodes with laughter.
“Guys,” I groan, mortified. “Rosa is right here. What must she think of me now?”
Rosa turns around, a plate of pancakes in hand, and winks. “What do you think? I wasn’t always an old widow. I know what it is to have a MacBrady man.” We all pause–then dissolve into even louder laughter.
“I’m sorry,” I say once the noise dies down. “I didn’t mean to abandon my own party.”
Tasha waves it off. “Please. You ditched us to get laid. I’m just happy you’re finally getting some regular vitamin D.”
“So,” I glance around the table, “how did you all end up in a drinking game of all things?”
Tasha lifts her head an inch, squinting like the light personally offended her. “Ari, when your man carried you off, I did what any red-blooded woman would do.” She straightens, rolling her shoulders like she’s back in a bar instead of a kitchen. “I went hunting.”
I snort. “Of course you did.”
“I hit the bar, locked eyes with my target, and gave him you’re about to get lucky tonight smile.” She flashes it now.
“Oh, Tash… yeah, that smile’s undefeated. What went wrong?”
Tasha exhales hard and throws her hands in the air.
“Collin… fucking… MacBrady.” Saaha winces.
Gracie’s mouth tightens. “He strolls up like he owns the oxygen, introduces himself as my man,” Tasha disbelief sharpening every word.
“Ari, I swear, the guy I was talking to evaporated. One second there, the next second–gone. Like he saw the devil and decided to repent.”
Thinking about the first time I met Collin, I say. “That tracks,” I mutter.
Her fingers drum against the table. “That’s when I got him to bring us up to the office to make sure you were alright. Once we found out you were okay, I tried again. New target, new smile and what does Collin do?” She laughs, sharp and humorless. “Cock-blocks me. Again.”
Her jaw tightens for half a second before she forces a grin.
“I wish I had Trevor with me to knock some sense into him.” No one laughs this time.
“So,” Tasha reaches for her cup, Rosa places in front of her.
“I pivot. With the girls’ help, I decide to drink him under the table and when that failed, I, I—. ”
She takes a sip, makes an expression, and then something small flickers across her face.
It’s only because I know her, I’d notice, and it’s gone almost as soon as it appears.
“I had the last laugh.” she shrugs then a half-smirk curves her mouth.
“I was funny though, watching two grown men run like scared puppies? I can’t believe Collin declared twice that I was his.
” The statement hangs there as she stares into her steaming cup.
“Tasha, I don’t know what to think about that. But I cou–”
She waves me off, too fast. “Don’t.” Her smile snaps into place, bright but brittle.
“He wanted a reaction; he got one. End of story.” Her fingers curl tighter around the mug’s handle.
“I made one of the worst decisions of my life last night. Now my body hates me, my organs are floating, and I’m pretty sure Irish whiskey is a hate crime. ”
She shrugs, already shifting gears, as Rosa sets a cup of jasmine tea in front of me. I watch her over the rim of my cup. MacBrady men don’t make false claims. I decide I’ll talk to Cyan. Collin’s unpredictable. Tasha’s deflection tells me she’s not telling me everything. For now, I let it go.
“Drink up,” Rosa says brightly, lining cups up in front of Saaha and Gracie. “It’s my special hangover remedy.”
Saaha sniffs hers, her nose wrinkling. “This smells like stinky feet. As a medical professional, I have to ask–does it actually work?”
Tasha takes another sip then eyes her cup as if it personally wronged her. “If this doesn’t save me, tell my story.”
“It does.” Gracie takes a sip. “Unfortunately.”
Tasha squints at her. “You know, I keep forgetting you grew up with those guys. How’d you even end up in their orbit?”
Gracie smiles down into her tea, the steam fogging up into her face.
“When my family immigrated from Japan, I was the only Asian kid in my school. My English was rough back then.” She shrugs as if she’s long since made peace with it.
“Some kids thought that made me an easy target.” My chest tightens. Understanding.
“One day, Thomas stepped in. Maybe because he knew what it felt like to stand out. His mom’s Black; his dad’s Irish.
No one messed with him, knowing Troy’s would be pissed, if they did.
” Her mouth curves. “After that, the bullying stopped. Mostly because no one wanted to deal with Troy. No one messed with Troy until Cyan.”
“Troy?” I lean forward. “Wait, you mean they weren’t always best friends?”
Gracie laughs. “Hardly. Cyan transferred mid-semester during my third year. Total nerd, quiet and very smart.” She pauses.
“I don’t know what set it off, but he called Troy an idiot in math class.
After school, Troy and his crew beat the crap out of him.
That same night, Cyan and Collin lost their family in a house fire.
” I don’t correct her assumption about Cyan’s family. It’s not my story to tell.
“We all thought he’d go back to Ireland,” Gracie says, shrugging. “But two weeks later, he showed up at school, but he was different.”
Her eyes flick up, meeting mine. “He walked straight up to Troy and beat him so badly it took three teachers to pull him off.” Tasha lets out a low whistle.
“After that, they were inseparable. To this day, to my knowledge, Cyan’s the only guy who ever beat Troy like that.
That’s how he earned their respect.” Gracie finishes.
“Men,” Tasha mutters, shaking her head. “I will never understand them. Do they fear him?”
“No,” Gracie glances toward Rosa. “Right?”
Rosa nods once. “They don’t fear him. They respect him.” Her voice is certain. “Cyan’s the eldest brother in everything but blood. He’d give them his right hand, and they’d bleed for him in return.” She looks at me. “And now you to Aria. They protect you in the same way. You make him happy.”
Emotion swells in my throat. “Thank you, Rosa, but you’re giving me too much credit.”
She presses a hand to her chest. “No, I’m telling the truth.” A small smile touches her lips. “When Troy said they were going to a baseball game today, Cyan went, no complaints. That’s rare. He rarely stops long enough to enjoy what he’s built.”
Tasha nods. “I hate to say it, but she’s right. Before he left, Cyan apologized to us for last night, and then he disappeared with the boys, so we’ve got the place to ourselves.”
Gracie snorts. “Let’s be clear… Cyan MacBrady does not apologize. He takes what he wants and doesn’t explain himself to anyone.”
Saaha sets her cup down. “I didn’t know his reputation,” she says.
“But a few months ago, I was in Texas, desperate for a sponsor for my dementia village. He reached out me and boom six months later; it was fully built. His only condition? A place where your grandmother could be a patient.” Tears sting my eyes.
After last night, I didn’t think I’d have any more tears left.
“A man doesn’t do that, unless he cares deeply. ” Saaha adds.
Tasha reaches out and nudges my hand. “Look, Ari. I doubted your choice. Hell, I doubted it yesterday.” Her smile softens. “But anyone with eyes can see how happy you are. So, fuck everyone, including me, and go after your happiness.”
“I love him,” I say, my voice shaking. “Thank you. All of you.” I swipe at my tears. “Aunt Cathy won’t even take my calls.”
They all get to their feet and close in around me without a word.
For the first time, it really sinks in. I’ve found my people.
“Okay,” I say, laughing through tears. “Enough crying. Non-alcoholic margaritas. Trashy movies. No cooking. We’re ordering out.
Rosa, I’m talking about you. I’m the bride. You’re legally obligated to listen.”
Rosa chuckles. “Yes, ma’am.”
That’s how we spend the afternoon, laughing, sprawled together, letting the world wait.