AISLING

The brightness washing over my skin told me it was morning already. I groaned, eyes still closed, wondering why time moved so damn fast. I heard the low shuffling of feet and movements, but I still didn’t want to open my eyes.

The movement got louder and the brightness brighter until I groaned and finally opened my eyes to find Mary, our house helper, by the curtain, smiling brightly like a ray of sunshine.

"Lovely morning, Ms. Aisling," she said, stepping closer to the bed.

"Morning, Mary," I returned the greeting, rising softly into a sitting position. My head throbbed like crazy.

"Breakfast is ready, and there’s ginger soup for your hangover," she said warmly with a knowing smile, bowing softly before stepping out of the room. How did she know I had a hangover?

I tore the duvet off me and climbed down from the bed, walking into the bathroom. After brushing my teeth and having my bath, I did my morning skincare, then wore a black tee shirt and ash sweatpants before leaving my room and climbing down the stairs.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I reached the dining room. The man seated at one of the dining chairs was none other than my brother, Cillian.

"Cillian!" I squealed excitedly, running towards him and enveloping him in a tight hug so strong we almost crashed to the ground.

"Easy on me, sis." He chuckled, gently pulling me away and sitting me on the chair next to his.

"I’ve missed you!" I said, my smile bright.

Cillian laughed, his hand coming up to rub my black hair—the same we shared. "I’ve missed you too, baby sis. Look at you, all grown now." He shook his head. "You were just a baby the last time I saw you."

I rolled my eyes with a chuckle. "Oh please. I was literally twenty when you left."

"And I was twenty-six. You’re still a baby," he said proudly, and I shook my head.

"When did you return?"

"Last night, after you’d slept, of course." He added quickly when I furrowed my brows. "I didn’t want to wake you up—you know how you get when someone wakes you up before time."

He laughed and I joined him. He was probably remembering the time I almost bit his head off when he woke me up just to tell me the girl he liked finally liked him back. They’d broken up, by the way.

"I heard about the marriage," Cillian said, his eyes narrowing a bit.

I shrugged. "Yeah. Father said it was for a truce." What’s done was done.

"Yeah, I guess. I didn’t know you two were already so close he’s dropping you at home."

I narrowed my gaze on him. Something wasn’t adding up. How did he know Renji had dropped me off? "Didn’t you say you returned when I was asleep?"

"Yes. Mary might have seen a thing or two last night." I groaned. "So what’s up with you two? Do you like him?" Cillian asked.

"Yes." My eyes widened at the quick response, and I added immediately: "No."

"Yes came first, by the way." He scrutinized my face and I wanted to bury myself inside the dining table.

Cillian didn’t know about my obsession—no—crush on Renji, and I would like to keep it that way.

Before we could speak again, Papa came inside the dining room. After giving him our greetings, he welcomed Cillian back, and breakfast ensued.

After breakfast, I went up to my room, checking the aesthetically pleasing clock on the wall for the time. It was a few minutes after nine. I searched around for my phone, and when I found it, I dialed Taylor’s line immediately.

"Hey, babe," she said, a bit groggy, and I could tell she was just rising up from slumber. "Did you get home safe? One moment I was dancing and the next I didn’t see you until a man in black showed up before me and offered to take me home."

"A man took you home? Was he recognizable?" I asked, a bit suspicious.

"No, but I think he’s Asian. Japanese, to be precise. But he wasn’t Renji." She yawned.

"Yeah, I know it’s not Renji because the damn asshole took me home last night." I groaned.

"Asshole? Wow, new. Spill, babe. What happened last night?" The sleep was cleared from her voice and she was ready for gossip. Typical Taylor.

"Well, we were dancing, like you said, and then all of a sudden Renji spawned in. Imagine the damned asshat ordering me around. Of course I gave him a piece of my mind too." After giving Taylor the rundown of my encounter with Renji Mori last night, she burst out into a fit of laughter.

"I can only imagine the kind of fierce woman Renji’s got on his hands now. You’re not easy fit," she said at the end of her laughter. "But you still... like him, right?"

My first instinct would’ve been to say no, but that would be a very obvious lie. As much as my husband-to-be was a big, controlling asshole, and as much as our first meeting last night wasn’t what I’d wished for us, it didn’t make my crush for him vanish. I was still as obsessed as the first day.

"You are hesitating. I think you still like him," Taylor concluded with my silence.

I sighed, laying back flat on the bed. "Well, I don’t hate him, yet."

Taylor snorted. "As though you could ever hate him," she said. "Are you going for classes today?"

"Yes. By two."

Taylor and I were graduates. She was aspiring to become a fashion designer, and I knew she would make it big. Her whole dress style and the unbranded clothes she made were everything to be said.

"Okay. I’ll pick you up. I still feel guilty for not knowing when you left last night."

I chuckled. That’s why I loved her. "Thanks, babe, I’ll be waiting."

She grumbled a positive response, then ended the call. I laid there, staring up at the plain pink ceiling with star decors on it, recalling yesterday.

Remembering him...

He was taller than he looked on social media. He was probably around six-five or six-six. And his accent... God, his accent. I’d never heard any Asian—particularly Japanese—speak English so damn perfectly, with no trace of the Japanese accent. He was so perfect through and through that even as an asshole, I was still obsessed with him.

I groaned, shaking the thought of him away and settling for a short nap until it was two p.m.

Two reached quicker than I’d liked. I called Taylor while dressing up. I knew she was going to be late—that girl could never be on time. I put on a pink, flowery sundress and pale pink sandals, tying my hair into a bun at the top of my head. I put on some light makeup—smoky eye and lip gloss—then finally carried my bag and left my room, waiting for her.

A few—more than a few, actually—minutes later, Taylor arrived. To say she was shocked when she walked into the house and spotted Cillian seated on one of the couches, manspread, was an understatement. She was flabbergasted.

"You didn’t tell me your brother is back, Ash!" Taylor exclaimed.

"You’re still friends with this little wild midget, Niamh?" Cillian glowered, glaring at Taylor.

"Midget... MIDGET?! I’m five foot eleven, you damned caveman."

"And I’m six foot four, you wild rabbit," he threw back.

Oh dear. I didn’t want to mention what I, a five-foot-nine, would’ve been if Taylor at five-foot-eleven was a midget.

"Ha! You little shit!" Taylor scoffed, taking it all in not to lash out at Cillian. This wasn’t new, at all. Their hatred had been going for a while now, and I enjoyed the little bickering, though neither of them ever told me why they hated each other so damn much.

"Oh guys, that’s enough. I wasted enough time already, I don’t think Mrs. James would let me in at this point." I sighed out. They finally stopped glaring at each other. Taylor rolled her eyes, then tucked her arm in mine, leading us out of the house.