She paused for a moment, then shrugged nonchalantly, climbing the stairs. “Not sure what’s wrong with the living room. Everyone else is downstairs,” she argued.
He didn’t reply, just kept his hand on the small of her back, guiding her up the stairs, then turning her toward his room once they reached the top. And she didn’t hesitate.
It spoke to their level of friendship, to the innate trust that existed between them, forged by thirty years of living within each other’s space. He and Kelli had grown up together, seen each other through every single awkward phase of their lives. They’d eaten hundreds of school lunches at the same table, played a million different games, gone to concerts and football games, and too many bars to count. They’d laughed and fought like siblings and enemies—and friends.
“Colm?” she asked, as they entered his bedroom. “What the hell did she say? Why are you so worked up?”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
It was Kelli.
It had been Kelli all along.
He shut the door and locked it.
She frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”
He walked over to his dresser and picked up her panties, swinging them nonchalantly on his finger.
She realized what he had—and blushed. “Oh damn. Yeah. It occurs to me I probably should have told you something that…I forgot. Paddy and I were in your bed Halloween night. Did you just find those?” She was grinning now, clearly thinking he’d brought her up here to give her a hard time about sleeping with his brother in his bed.
She couldn’t be more wrong.
She reached out, intent on taking them from him, but he closed his fist and held them away from her.
“Don’t be a perv, Colm. That’s my favorite pair of panties.”
“They’re mine now.”
“Don’t think they’ll fit you,” she joked.
“I took them off you Halloween night, Kell. Claimed them. They’re mine.”
“You…you didn’t take them off me.”
“Brooke wasn’t in this room with me. She was next door. With Robbie.”
“No. You were at Brooke’s apartment. I saw you leave.”
“We went downstairs to borrow a bottle of vodka from the pub because she was out. Told Brooke to meet me up here while I fixed the tap on the keg, but everyone was still playing that stupid game. Brooke didn’t hear me whisper second door at the top of the stairs. She went to Finn’s room.”
“Your beard,” she said, still fighting the truth. “It wasn’t there.”
“I shaved it off. It was the only way I could get the fake Hagrid one to stick to my face. You know me, in it to win it. I started growing it back the next day.”
“I just thought you’d trimmed it too much.” Colm watched her process what he was saying, and realized she was almost there when she said, “Paddy…”
“Spent the night happily passed out in his own bed. Think about it, Kell. He was way too wasted to do what we did that night.”
Her shoulders drooped and for a second, she looked like a balloon someone had stuck a pin in, all the air seeping out of her. Then a huge smile filled her face. “Oh thank God. This is amazing! I can’t tell you how relieved I am. I mean…when I thought I’d…with Paddy. This has been killing me. It’s like I can breathe for the first time in a week and a half!”
Colm leaned against his dresser and grinned, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
It didn’t take too long.
“Fuck,” she said, looking at him. “We had sex!”
“We had good sex.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Colm laughed. “Don’t be shy, Kell. You can admit every single one of those orgasms were real, and then tell me I rocked your world. It won’t be the first time I’ve heard it. I’m sure it won’t be the last.”
She gazed heavenward and closed her eyes. “Oh my God. Now I’m sorry I didn’t sleep with Paddy.” Then she started laughing. “And by the way, you owe me an apology. You said only I could manage to sleep with the wrong person.”
Colm chuckled. “I stand corrected.” Then, he couldn’t resist poking a little fun. “You know, I’m really trying to remember your exact words last Friday.” He tapped his lips as if thinking hard. “Think you called me a stud.”
“I never said the word stud. Not once. Ever.”
He shrugged. “It was definitely implied,” he teased, enjoying the way she blushed.
Of course, it was Kelli, so he should have known it wouldn’t take her too long to recover and manage to get in a dig of her own.
“Careful, hotshot. I was so good that night, you were ready to marry Brooke. Brooke, who never stops talking…about reality TV…and thinks throwing on a pink sweater and calling herself Regina George is a stellar Halloween costume. Think about that. Let it sink in. That’s how hot I am in bed.”
Colm didn’t bother to admit that was all he’d been thinking about since Brooke dropped the bomb that it hadn’t been her in his bed that night.
He walked over and sat on the edge of his bed, patting the mattress next to him. “Come here.”
“Fuuuuuck no.”
“I just want to talk to you.”
“We can talk just like this.”
“Chicken shit,” he said, throwing her own taunt back at her.
It worked. Just like he’d known it would.
Kelli crossed over to him, sitting on the edge of his bed with one leg curled beneath her as she faced him. “What?” Her tone was hostile, but he knew it was a defensive move, so he didn’t take offense.
He ran the back of his knuckles along her cheek, taking note of her soft intake of breath. “It’s going to be okay, Kell. We’re fine.”
The storm clouds gathering in her expression as she prepared to go to battle lifted. “Yeah. Right. I mean…it’s not like you and I are strangers to one-night stands. We’ll just chalk it up to alcohol and bad decisions and move on.”
He shook his head. “Nope. That’s not happening.”
“But you just said—”
“That we’re fine. And we
