"So how are things going between you and Cillian?" Cady asks.
I try to think of the words to describe the way things are going, but I'm overwhelmed with so many thoughts.
"Ah," she says, as if she just found the Holy Grail. "No need to say anything. It's written all over your face." Said face immediately flushes like I've been busted by my mom smoking weed or something.
Teagan leans forward to look at me closely. "What? What's written on her face? I missed it."
Cady laughs and points at me. "Our girl has it bad for a certain Irish rock star we all know and adore."
I take a small sip of my Smithwick's. "I don't have it bad."
When they both look at me skeptically, I amend, "Well... not that bad."
"What's not bad?" Cillian says from behind me, as he wraps his arms around my waist and lays his chin on my shoulder. It's the first public display of affection he's shown in front of our mutual friends and the warm satisfaction of it feels so right.
"Nothing," I say hastily, afraid Teagan will rat me out. I know Cady wouldn't do it, but Teagan would so try to embarrass me with Cillian. "Aren't you getting ready to go on or something?"
"You got a minute?" He doesn't wait for my answer, but pulls me away from the table, flashing a grin at Cady and Teagan.
I follow him from the back area and he starts leading me toward the storeroom. I pull back against his hand. "No way. I'm not going in there with you, you perv."
He laughs and spins around on me. "I just wanted a little privacy to tell you something, but here's as good a place as any."
He leans back against the wall, spreading his legs just a little. Then he pulls me in close, resting his hands on my hips. "Did you think I was going to take you in there and have my way with you?"
"Yes," I tell him honestly, and truth be told, I sort of wanted him to push the issue just a bit.
He leans forward and gives me a soft kiss. "I'd be lying if I didn't tell you I can't think of anything else but the fact that you're not wearing any underwear right now. Just the thought of what I could do to you in about two minutes..." His words are like an undertow in the ocean, threatening to pull me under... to drown me.
My voice is shaky. "What did you want to tell me?"
Cillian sticks his nose under my ear and rubs me there. Then he murmurs, "I just wanted you to know that all I can think about, whether you're wearing panties or not, is that I'm the guy that gets to go home with you tonight. I really just want to hurry up and get through this so I can be alone with you."
Oh, Cillian.
Every time he speaks to me, every sentiment that comes from his heart...it's like I find myself submersing into the warm depths of his soul. He is so different from what I had actually expected he'd be, and it seems I'm constantly marveling over the connection that is growing.
His words affect me so deeply that there's a tiny part of me that wants to burst into tears of gratitude. To ensure that doesn't happen, I try to lighten the moment so I don't break down and confess all my sappy feelings to him. "Well, hurry up and get your ass on that stage. The sooner you sing, the sooner you can have your way with me."
"It will never be soon enough," he says. Then he gives me a quick kiss, nipping my bottom lip, and he's gone.
***
Watching Cillian on stage is unlike anything I've ever experienced. Sure...I'd seen him perform once, all those years ago when I was looking at him through a seventeen-year-old girl’s eyes. And although I'd Googled him every so often, I've never seen a performance of his since that time.
Now... it's different. He's matured, become sexier. His voice is different as well. He moves more confidently, a man that knows what it's like to perform and please others.
When the band starts out with Between You and Me, which was the song that went to the top of the Irish charts, the crowd goes wild. It's standing room only and Keefe has been fretting that he's going to run out of beer and booze before the night is over. Luckily, the crowd is at least controlled as tonight is a private performance by invitation only.
I stand at the front of the stage with Cady and Teagan, the three of us rocking out to the music. If I thought he melted my panties five years ago, he would surely cause them to incinerate right now... if I was wearing any, that is. The way he holds the microphone, his wrist tattoos flashing every so often. Or the way he will lick his lips in between lines, a move I'm sure helps to keep them moist, but I'm sure every woman sees as a sexual innuendo.
Time and again, Cillian's eyes find mine. Sometimes he quirks his lips at me. Once he even stares at the miniskirt I'm wearing and I know exactly what he's thinking, because the lyrics are completely suggestive and gets me hot thinking about him.
When we're alone
I see nothing else
Feel nothing else
Lost in your eyes
Lost in your thighs
Pulse pounding, rainbow-tinged skies
Song after song, I start to have a new appreciation for Cillian's talent. Some songs, his voice is soft, smooth, hypnotic. Other songs are tense, dark, and his voice is harsh and abrasive, making the song ring with carnality. He has it all... the looks, the voice, the moves... and my chest swells a little knowing that he is indeed going home with me.
The only dampener to the performance is Maeve. In the rare moments my eyes leave Cillian, I catch Maeve glaring at me a few times. During some of the songs, they stand back to back and she rubs suggestively against him. My common sense says it’s showmanship, nothing more, but once she looks down at me and gives me a sly smile. As if she knew where my thoughts were going.