Page 88 of The Villain

It was ludicrous. I’d never paid much attention to how other people looked at Cian, because we hadn’t been around anyone but his crew. But here, in this setting, I finally realized how easily he drew attention. It made my hackles go up. I wanted to clingto him like a barnacle. Snarl at everyone. Tattoo my name on his forehead. Pee on him.

He didn’t seem to notice that we were the hot new couple on the beach. With his ridiculous flowery straw bag, Cian marched down the sand to the top of the tide. He snapped open his chair with a flip of his wrist before plunking it into the wet sand. The second he sat down, it sank a few inches, and he turned around to find me still standing there with my folded chair.

“What’re you doing?” he said. “Sit.”

I looked up and down the beach. Teenagers were throwing a football in the surf nearby. An elderly couple walking together had to detour into deeper sand to get around Cian’s big-ass body blocking their path.

“Right here? Isn’t this where people walk and stuff?”

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” He turned back around to face the ocean and splayed his legs wide in the chair. Foamy seawater rushed over his feet. “They can walk around us.”

I sighed as I unfolded my chair and sat beside him. Because what other answer did I expect Cian to give? Of course he’d act like he owned the public beach.

He was still completely unaware people were looking at us, including a group of college-age girls in bikinis. But I was aware. I wasveryaware. I tried to focus on the sound of the waves and the feeling of cold water rushing over my feet. But the girls just kept looking at us and whispering to each other.

I could tell Cian’s eyes were closed behind his sunglasses as he lounged back in his chair, his hands folded over the LOYALTY tattoo on his stomach.

I leaned toward him on the arm of my chair. “Those girls are looking at you.”

He didn’t answer or move. Not even a finger twitch.

I wasn’t letting it go. “Don’t you wanna look?”

Cian exhaled loudly. “Why would I?”

“Aren’t you attracted to women?”

“Sometimes. They’re just not usually attracted to me.”

“Well, those ones seem interested.”

He didn’t even open his eyes. “Don’t piss me off at the beach, Dev.”

“Aren’t you even curious?”

He cracked open his eyes behind his sunglasses and stared up at the sky. “You are. You’re going to piss me off in front of the ocean and everything.”

“I’m just saying, one girl is basically wearing a total of two square inches of red fabric.”

He rolled his head to look at me. “What do you want me to say? I like tits? Jesus.”

“What if you decide you miss those parts?”

Cian whipped off his glasses and yanked my chair toward his so hard the armrests clacked together. He leaned into my space, eyes blazing. “I don’t know about anyone else, but that’s not how it works for me. I don’t just wake up and decide I’m jonesing for pussy and go find some. For me, bisexuality is that I either find people attractive or I don’t. Their gender doesn’t factor into it.”

He let out a harsh breath through his nose before leaning back in his chair and sliding his sunglasses into place. “And the only body parts I’ll miss are the ones attached to you. So don’t lose anything.” He thrust his hand out toward the ocean as water lapped at our ankles. “Can you enjoy the beach now? Like a normal fucking person?”

I rolled my lips between my teeth. “I think I might need therapy.”

He snorted. “You think?”

“Oh, like you’re the pinnacle of mental wellness, Cian.”

He shrugged. “Who is?”

“But if I go and I tell them about you, they’ll try to tell me we’re toxic. I don’t want that. I want ayour-father-was-a-piece-of-shittherapist. Not ayour-criminal-boyfriend-is-a-controlling-assholetherapist.”

Cian barked out a laugh before turning to me with a smile. “You’re funny when you’re not pissing me off.”