Page 58 of Shattered Hearts
“Okay.” I gulp around another lump in my throat. “Will you be back later?”
“Yeah.” With a sober face, Finn takes my bad hand in his, gentler than a man this violent should be capable of. My heart soars.
“The first thing we’re going to do when I get back is see about this swelling.”
The sight of my swollen hand between his rough ones does something to me I can’t explain. I need to get out of here pronto.
Before I tackle him again.
His head falls to one side. “That was some punch.”
And then he’s gone.
Did Finn Gallagher just give me a compliment?
Five minutes after he’s disappeared, I’m still standing there like an idiot. What the hell am I going to do? I don’t even know how to act around Finn.
I float into the mansion, walking the halls like a zombie. I can’t think about what just happened at my apartment. My brain’s too full.
Never, not even in the last four days, have I set foot in an enforcer’s private quarters at the Gallagher estate.
Finn, along with his friends, lives on the third floor of the mansion.
When I lived here, both my room and Harper’s were on the second floor, in the opposite wing. We had no reason to venture upstairs.
At this moment, I have Finn’s permission and the electronic key to get in. While disguised and pretending to be his wife, I technically have the rightto go up there too. But that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable doing so.
The notion goes against all my programming. It’s so bad that when I reach the second-floor landing, my feet go rogue and head left down the hallway instead of onward up the staircase.
I can’t calm down at all. Me, go up to the third floor and sit around in Finn Gallagher’s bedroom,waiting for him to come home from work? Too much. Way too much.
Instead, I wander into Harper’s suite, my one and only safe haven in this place while stuck in this charade. Inside, I head straight to her giant bed. Diving between her Egyptian cotton sheets and designer duvet, I hide myself in darkness that smells of expensive perfume and try to settle.
I hope things will be better between us when she returns.
Later, when my cheeks stop burning and my thoughts quit racing, I gravitate to Harper’s writing desk. Like me, she keeps her most precious items there. Most of them I recognize. Trinkets from our travels. Postcards from our cousins. A yearbook with all the superlatives she won that year, tape-flagged at the back.
Our yearbook photos?—
“What are you doing in here?”
My body’s on high alert as my head snaps up.
Cian Mahoney surveys me from across Harper’s room, an unreadable visage on his face. How the hell did he get in here? Did I forget to lock the door?
He walks my way. I haven’t seen him since the reception on Saturday.
The guy could, without a doubt, quit the mob and transition to modeling any day. Though I’m immune to it, I can still feel his sexiness all around me, like water in a pool.
Cian gives off this vibe, like he’s a hot genie who’ll grant you one wish. Except the only wish women around him have is to worship his dick. And if his dick is anything like the rest of him—safe to assume—it’s probably a big, beautiful masterpiece. Not that I have any interest in his anatomy.
The question is, why is he in Harper’s bedroom? Even more important, is this a regular occurrence?
What are the odds he’s hooked up with her in the past?
A horrible thought bursts into my head. Oh shit. What if he tries to kiss me…or worse?
Twirling a few blond strands around my fingertips the way my sister does, I tilt my head. “What areyoudoing in here?”