"Well, you do have to have some connections, plus a bit of talent. Keefe is the one that encouraged me to apply, and thanks to Keefe's firm hand when I lived with him, my grades were quite good. We also had a great music program at my school, so I had some really good recommendations. And, I'm assuming they liked my auditions. I auditioned for their Composition program and made it in."
Renner pulls completely out of my grasp and sits on the bed cross-legged and facing me. "And you told me why you dropped out. To pursue making music with OTE."
"That's right. And I never looked back."
I'm quiet, because we've been sidetracked off the real story, and I'm not sure I really want to finish it. It was a lot easier when she was lying with her head on my chest so I didn't have to look into her green eyes.
Reaching out, she picks up one of my hands and starts stroking it. She runs her fingers over my palm, rubbing her thumb on my wrist. She even grazes her knuckles along mine, in an attempt to soothe me.
"Finish the story about your parents," she says quietly.
I stare at her a moment, knowing that I'm entering into new territory. It's frightening yet I also want to lay everything out on the table. To see if what we have is real.
To see if she can know my horrors and still want to be near me.
Sitting up in bed, I drag my free hand through my hair. "My parents didn't like the fact I dropped out of university. We argued constantly about it, and it kept me away from home. My mam was a bit more understanding, but my da would rage at me any time I called. I could tell he was drunk half the time. I tried to get Mam to tell me how things really were, and she assured me that it was okay. I chose to believe her rather than go home and deal with it. So I stuck my head in the sand and continued pursuing my dreams."
I stop for a moment and look at Renner. Her eyes are filled with worry, because I've been dragging out the last few lines of my story, dreading the ultimate conclusion. She doesn't say anything, just continues to rub my hand and watch me.
"Apparently things weren't that great. My mam was hiding a lot from me. Neighbors later told me that they heard vicious arguments coming out of the house, things being thrown...screams. One night... Da got really drunk... I don't know all the details, but he pulled a gun out and shot my mam. Then he turned it on himself and finished my family for good."
Renner lets out a strangled cry and her hand drops mine, covering her mouth. Tears immediately fill her eyes and start pouring down her face. I watch her mourning for me and my heart twists in a painful knot.
She propels herself to her knees and leans forward, gently taking my face in her hands. She leans in close, wetness coating her cheeks in silvery rivers. "I'm so sorry, Cillian. So, so, sorry."
A sob escapes her mouth and I finally react. I pull her in to hug my chest, feeling her tears soaking into my skin.
"It's okay," I assure her as I stroke her hair. "I've made my peace with it."
"No," she says, shaking her head. "How do you ever make peace with that?"
"Shhh," I reassure her. "I made peace with it because it's done and it was probably beyond my control."
She goes still in my arms and then she leans back to look at me. Her eyes and nose are red, and she drags the back of her hand across her face to wipe at the tears.
"Control," she says in understanding. "That's why you like to be in control."
It's a statement, not a question, and she now knows and understands something about me that no one else gets.
"Yes. It's why I have to be in control. Because if I'm not...bad things can happen."
CHAPTER 19
Renner
Cillian is taking me away for the weekend. He actually asked me if I would take a few days off from The Hibernian, rather than demand it of me. And there was no way I could say no. Not after what he shared with me. Not after the leaps we made in our relationship that night when he told me all about his painful past.
His revelations have led me to a deeper understanding of what drives him. I understand his need for control, although I won't always bow to it. I also get why the situation with Maeve is so difficult. Cillian has a greater understanding as to the depths of hell an alcoholic can journey to. He has a need to help Maeve through this that I can now appreciate on a new level.
It doesn't make me like her anymore, but at least I have a better awareness as to where Cillian is coming from. I vow that I will do whatever I need to do to support him.
I take my eyes off the majestic Irish countryside and glance at him. He looks so amazing, with a pair of Ray Ban Aviators perched on his nose. His hair is all stylishly mussy and he's chewing on his lip rings. My heart swells and I think about the fact that I may be falling in love with this man.
It started happening the night he told me about his family. My heart opened up, poured out my grief for him, and then sucked all of his goodness inside. I wanted to hold him, to stroke him, to make love to him. I wanted to do all of those things over and over again until I banished all of the tragedy from his memory and only had good things to remember.
When my tears had dried, I kissed him. Hotly, passionately. I crawled on top of him and pushed him backward on to the bed. I kissed, nibbled and licked all over his body, causing his h*ps to jerk off the bed in rapture. I took the lead and stripped his boxers off, pulling my clothes off as well. I scrambled to get to the condoms in my bedside table and with calm, sure motions, rolled it onto his throbbing length. I lowered myself onto him, groaning at the invasion, reveling in the way his eyes closed and his fingers dug into my ass. I rode him slowly, lovingly, hoping to pour every bit of comfort I could into my actions. I looked him in the eye the entire time, never once letting my gaze wander, even when he closed his eyes as he cl**axed.