Damien (Slater Brothers #5)(18)

Bronagh crossed her finger over her heart. “Not a word.”

“Dante started out as an experiment,” I said in a rushed breath.

The admission took a huge weight I didn’t realise I was carrying off my shoulders.

Bronagh’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“Please.” Bronagh waved her hand. “Explain yourself.”

Where to begin?

“Okay.” I exhaled. “So, Dante has a long list of women he has bedded, he doesn’t do long-term relationships, he is outgoin’, charmin’, ridiculously attractive, carin’, loyal to his family ... who does that remind you of?”

Bronagh blinked. “Any one of the brothers before they settled, but I’m goin’ to go with Damien since he is your centre.”

I ignored her observation of him being my centre, and focused on the mention of him.

“Bingo.”

My friend furrowed her brows. “You’re sleepin’ with Dante because he is like Damien?”

“Exactly.”

“I know there is a point to this,” Bronagh said as she rubbed her temples, “but I have pregnancy brain, so go ahead and break it down for me, babe.”

My lips twitched.

“I always blamed me age, cluelessness, and stupid hormones for gettin’ tangled up with Damien, and I wanted to prove to meself that those trivial things really were the cause for how much I liked ’im. So, when the opportunity to bed Dante arose, I jumped at it, and him, and put me theory to the test.”

“And your theory was?”

“That I could have casual no-strings-attached sex with someone like Damien and not be affected like I once was.”

Bronagh raised a brow. “And how is that workin’ out for you?”

“Quite well,” I said proudly. “I have no romantic interest in Dante; it’s purely physical.”

“Your theory won’t exactly prove anythin’, though.” Bronagh paused then said, “Well, not unless ...”

“Unless what?” I asked.

“Unless Damien is the person you bed and then walk away from.”

I froze. “That’s stupid, Bee.”

She was suggesting I have sex with the man it took me years to get over?

Are you really over him, though?

I gritted my teeth at my thoughts as my friend deadpanned.

“You just told me you’re havin’ sex with Dante Collins because he is like Damien, and you want to prove you could lay ’im and leave ’im. It’s great that you can have casual sex with Dante, but it proves nothin’ unless you lay and leave the man who is behind this theory of yours in the first place, and that, me dear friend, is Damien Slater.”

I refused to allow myself to process any of what Bronagh said.

I scowled. “I thought you said you had pregnancy brain?”

She grinned. “I have me moments.”

Have them somewhere else.

“Can we not talk about Damien?” I almost pleaded. “I really don’t want to think about ’im right now.”

Bronagh watched me. “You hurt ’im, ye’know?”

The hurt that dwelled in his eyes when I told him about Dante flashed across my mind, and I tensed.

“What are you talkin’ ’bout?” I asked, my tone clipped.

Bronagh didn’t back down. “Damien’s being tryin’ with you, Lana. Ye’know he has.”

Alannah.

“I don’t know anythin’ of the sort—”

“Keela has you drunk off your arse on video acknowledgin’ that ye’know exactly what I’m talkin’ ’bout.”

I hugged the pillow in my grasp tighter. I knew damn well that Damien was tryin’ to build something with me; I just didn’t need everyone else telling me about something I already knew. It made staying angry with him extremely hard.

“I thought you were supposed to be my friend?” I demanded of Bronagh, my gaze hard.

“I am your friend, ye’eejit,” she bit back, her own eyes narrowing. “But I’m Damien’s friend too, and instead of hidin’ out ’ere and feelin’ sorry for yourself, you should get your arse ’round to Branna and Ryder’s place and talk to Damien. You both got yourselves into this situation, and only the two of you can get yourselves out of it.”

I shoved my pillow off my lap and angrily got to my feet.

“Maybe you should leave,” I told Bronagh. “I have work to do.”

“Lana—”

“Alannah,” I snapped. “Me name is Alannah.”

“What is your problem?” Bronagh demanded. “Why do you correct everyone when they call you Lana?”

“Because Damien called me it first, and every single time someone else says it, it reminds me of ’im! Now, like I said, I have work to do.”

She stood up. “Don’t toss me aside ’cause ye’don’t like hearin’ the truth, ye’gobshite. Seven days ago, you told Damien you were ready to deal with everythin’ between you two, so what’s changed since then?”

Everything.

“Nothin’.”

“Don’t bullshit me.” Bronagh glared. “I know you better than ye’know yourself, so cut this act and talk to me.”