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Chapter 2: Chapter 2

He kissed her lips first, then her nose.

"The marriage is six months away. After that, give me a few months to get her established so that we can continue where we left off.

He grinned at Cassie as though this were the most wonderful development. She would only have to be patient while he beat his wife into submission and perhaps implanted a child in her womb. They could keep what they had.

Is that truly what you want, Nathan? she questioned.

It's not what I want, Bae, oh no. I would not alter a thing about what we now have since I adore it, but the old guy is pressuring me to be married because Ainsley's family is in the building industry. He faltered off and shrugged. You know, Bae, don't you? Only a few months, at most eight, will pass before everything returns to normal.

She sarcastically said, "Except you'll be married.

He continued to shrug, "We've both been in relationships before and it hasn't affected our arrangement."

She groaned, trying not to express how saddened she was by Nathan's news. Since they were adolescents, she had been madly in love with him. More than simply her best friend, Nathan represented the ideal man she had always imagined herself marrying. That was not going to occur now. Nathan didn't and probably wouldn't view her that way.

He got out of bed after taking a peek at his phone.

"Look at the time, screw it. Oh my God, I better get going or I'll miss my flight.

With each new piece of clothing, Cassie saw Nathan getting dressed, feeling more confused and alone. He leaned down to give her a quick peck on the lips while grabbing his wallet and laptop bag.

He yelled to her, "I'll be in touch, Bae," as he walked away.

The sound of the door closing on her life was similar to the closing of a coffin. Not to her, but to Nathan, he was getting hitched.

Cassie cried out in loud, heartbreaking sobs as she rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. She had no clue how she was going to make it through her life without Nathan, which was going to be awful.

A week has passed. Ever since Nathan dropped his bomb, it has been a hard week. Since Nathan left her in their hotel room, Cassie hadn't ventured outside of her apartment until now. She spent the remainder of the weekend hiding out there, drowning her sorrows in a combination of vodka and chocolate, with the odd ice cream binge thrown in for variation. Although she was so overused, a shattered heart knows no boundaries.

She established a new nest in her bedroom and called in sick to work for the entire week when it was time to check out on Sunday. She slithered out of the hotel wearing dark glasses to conceal the red-rimmed and baggy eyes that were the consequence of her weekend binge. After first pushing her arse in the shower, her roommate eventually made her way through the mountains of tissues and candy wrappers to evict her.

That is how she found herself alone and in a pub on a Friday night.

She was no longer fully alone since the air next to her began to stir. Cassie looked in the direction of the visitor. He was wearing a custom-made dark blue suit that gave off the impression of being worn just by him. His black hair was trimmed short on the sides and long on top. He had black hair, dark eyes, and even a dark earring. He also smelled excellent.

Cassie said to the well-dressed stranger who sat down on the bar stool next to her, "You've got a nice beard." He did as well. It was thick and black with the perfect amount of length—more than hipster but not quite sea captain. She envisioned the sensation between her bare thighs.

"What?" He gave her a funny look as he regarded her.

She questioned, "Shit, did I say that out loud?" She was wasted. I am really inebriated and intend to continue drinking throughout the evening.

"You did," he grinned, "but I'm game if you are."

By way of snort. She said, "Maybe you should at least buy me a drink first."

Hey, you propositioned me, so maybe you need to be the one paying for the drinks, he remarked, his green eyes gleaming with interest.

She examined him. He was adorable. No, adorable wasn't the proper word; strike that. He was attractive, but in a sinister and tragic way. She felt something when she saw how menacing he appeared as if he could dissect you with a single phrase and not feel guilty afterward. Or perhaps it was just the excessive amounts of booze she had taken in.

He unzipped his jacket and laid it over his legs before taking off his actual cufflinks and rolling up his shirtsleeves to display his muscular forearms, which were covered with seductive tattoos. Cassie saw her cheeks warming up as he sat there wearing a black tie, a dark blue vest, and a white shirt.

She said, clearing her throat, which had suddenly grown thick. "So, what are you drinking, Irish?"

He arched a brow. She hoped she could perform that one brow lift since it was so useful.

He questioned, "Irish?" His voice caressed her skin as it was deep, smoky, and a little gruff around the edges. She trembled.

When Cassie waved over the bartender, she remarked, "Green eyes." "So, what'll it be?"

He said to the bartender, "Fat Yak," and the latter nodded.

She questioned, "Fat Yak?" "That is a really strange name to call a drink."

Irish raised the bottle in a toast after the bartender set it down on the bar in front of him. She drank her vodka cranberry while making a clink with his bottle.

Irish looked at Blue, "Whoa, slow down there."

Cassie snorted once more. "You called me 1Blue," she retorted.

"I did," he said, adding, "You've got red hair." He then nodded.

"I never did understand why that Nathanname applied," Cassie said.

He shrugged and took a sip of his beer before stating, "It's ironic.

She remarked, "Ahh, Alanis Morissette," with knowledge.

"Ironically enough, nothing in that song could be considered ironic."

Cassie laughed. You're OK, Irish, she assured him.

"So, what's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?"

Cassandra sighed. "You've just lost points for the lame pickup line," she stated.

"Not a pickup line, just curious."

She groaned. She added pathetically, "I got dumped." Speaking it aloud made it sound almost too genuine.

Irish questioned, "What, tonight?"

She shook her head, Cassie. "Last week."

He seemed perplexed. "You're here tonight because you got dumped last week?"

Once more, there was that brow furrow. Her tummy began to flutter.

Well, not quite dumped, she answered, drumming her fingers on the bar. "More like put on hold."

"I don't get it," he said, "explain it to me."

"I had an arrangement with my boyfriend. We come together once a month for a seductive weekend and otherwise keep to ourselves.

He mumbled and nodded while listening to the narrative and motioned for her to continue speaking while he sipped his drink.

Well, while I was carefully maintaining my single status until he saw the light and fantasized that we would ultimately get married with two-point-five children, he got engaged. To another person. She was droning on. She was affected by alcohol, especially vodka and champagne.

Irish snorted, "Asshole," with a look of disdain on his face.

"Right?" He understood it.

You stated you were 'on hold,' I take it. Why are you waiting if he's getting married?"

"Because," Cassie said sternly, "he needs a few months to get the little woman settled and then we can pick up where we left off."

With a look of disbelief on his face, he turned to face Cassie. He had an open mouth, large eyes, and eyebrows that nearly reached his hairline on both sides.

"He told you that?"

She regretfully nodded. She was aware of how pitiful she was, yet she was unable to control her feelings for Nathan. He had destroyed her for other guys.

"And you're happy with that?"

Cassie made a shrug. Which option do I have? I have a crush on him.

"So why isn't he marrying you?"

"Because he said he wouldn't do that to me." Cassandra sighed. "He said I'm like a wild bird and it would break his heart to see me caged."

Iris laughed. He sneered, "Bullshit," he muttered.

"No, that is real. We've always been the greatest of friends. He is aware of me and adores me. He's just getting married to this other woman because his father wants him to.

"Blue, that's completely screwed up. Do you realize that?

"What would you know," Cassie said with disdain, "Nathany loves me and he's just trying to protect me from being trapped in a marriage."

Irish shook his head and replied, "No, Blue. Put his hot piece of arse on the side because that's what he wants."

"You think my arse is hot?"

Cassie had the familiar tummy flutter once more, except this time it was a little lower. One side of his mouth slipped up into a crooked smile.

He said, "I do think your arse is hot," and the sensation of warm, melted chocolate being poured over her exposed flesh was unbearable.

Her underwear became wet.

Unconsciously moistening her lips to his tilted smile, she wondered what it would be like to kiss him while his beard rasped against her skin.

"Would you like me to demonstrate?" He said in a low whisper.

Did I just say it out loud again? she sobbed.

She had no time to take it in as his eyes crinkled in a smile before she felt the warmth of his lips on hers and the exquisite scratching of his whiskers on her skin. His tongue slid over the seam of her lips, causing a little mew to erupt from her throat. He was able to get inside when she opened her lips, and as soon as his tongue entered, it licked along hers, making her tremble. The music of the bar dwindled as her eyelids closed with a flutter. Cassie's entire universe was condensed to the instant at which their lips made contact.

Then it vanished.

Cassie blinked a few times as the commotion from the bar re-entered, feeling as though she were emerging from a trance.

Irish asked, "So?"

Cassie's eyes stared owlishly and blankly.

"Did it live up to your expectations?" When she continued to be unable to respond, Irish rubbed his lips with his palm while trying to hide his chuckle. "The beard, did it feel like you thought it would?"

She finally got a word out, "Better," and he grinned.


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