“So you haven’t,” he pressed.
“I’m not discussing my sex life with you, perv.”
“That’s all the answer I need. Pity. I think you’d get off on a little bondage.”
She leaned toward him, lowering her voice, the sound surprising husky…sexy. “I think I would.”
Colm’s eyes widened, and he shifted closer as well, always ready to go tit for tat with her. “Oh yeah? Should you and I test that theory?” It wasn’t a serious offer, and Kelli knew it.
And her answer was exactly what he’d expected. “As long as I’m the one tying the knots.”
He chuckled. “Yet another reason why you and I will never hook up.”
“Jesus, Colm. Believe me, that has never been in the cards. Ever. Like never. Ever.”
“Agreed. Want a cup of coffee to sober up?” he offered, though he made no effort to stand.
She shook her head. “No. That will just keep me up all night, and I’m perfectly capable of not sleeping on my own.”
He saw her wince slightly before schooling her features, and it set his lawyer instincts on full alert. Kelli had clearly revealed something she hadn’t meant to.
And since it was his God-given duty as an attorney to question her, he did. “Something keeping you up nights? More than just cat puke, spilled coffee, and shitty pants?”
She shrugged casually.
Colm figured she’d brush his question off—but then she twisted on the couch and faced him more fully.
“I’ve been…thinking about something…and I…”
She paused, and he recognized the second she realized who she was talking to. “You and Paddy really do look alike with the beard. Keep forgetting he shaved his off.”
Colm chuckled. “Almost spilled your guts to me, didn’t you?”
Kelli didn’t share the laugh. Instead, she shocked him by asking, “Would you give me shit until the end of time if I did?”
Colm wasn’t sure how to respond. He and Kelli had a pretty solid frenemies schtick, something that had worked for them since they were kids. But there was something in her tone that…worried him.
“I won’t give you shit.”
She studied his face, but his tone must have convinced her he was sincere. “I considered talking to Paddy about this, but…this doesn’t feel like something I can…”
She kept stopping in the middle of her sentences, as if she was still debating with herself over opening up to him.
“There’s something you can’t tell Paddy?” Colm was fairly certain there’d never been anything in their entire lives that had been off-limits between Kelli and Padraig.
“You know how hard the holidays are on him.”
Colm nodded. Of course he knew that. Just like he knew there were several other times during the year that knocked his brother down as well, times that had been meaningful, special to him and Mia. March, the month they’d met, was particularly brutal for Padraig.
Padraig and Mia had only gotten to spend one Christmas together. One lousy holiday, but Padraig had done everything in his power to make it the greatest holiday season ever—from Halloween, to Thanksgiving, to Christmas, and New Year’s, he’d made every single day the perfect celebration, the perfect memory.
And he’d paid for it the last two years. The holidays never failed to kick his brother in the ass. Hard.
“So it’s just the holidays holding you back from talking to him?”
Kelli considered the question, then shook her head. “No. It’s the subject matter too. I don’t know if…I’m not sure he’d understand. He’s kind of a romantic.”
“Kind of? Jesus. That’s the understatement of the year.”
“Yeah. It is. So there’s no way he’d get what I’m planning.”
Colm turned on the couch, resting his arm against the back cushions. “What the hell are you going to do? Shave your head? Join a cult? Marry your cat? Now you have to tell me.”
He expected her to flip him off. Or even to rise and walk upstairs. They weren’t confidants. Not even close to that.
Once again, she didn’t follow their usual pattern.
Instead…she answered. “I’m thirty-four.”
“I’m well aware. We’re the same age, remember? I was the one who cut your Barbie doll’s hair off in kindergarten.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Forgot about that. Damn, you were a dick right from the cradle.”
“The Barbie haircut was retaliation for the hole you poked in my soccer ball.”
“Ohhhh yeahhhhh.”
Colm scowled. “It was a brand-new ball.”
“You pulled my hair. It hurt.”
“Bet you wouldn’t bitch about getting your hair pulled these days.”
She blew out an exasperated breath. “Oh my God. Get your mind out of the gutter, Collins.”
He and Kelli were almost exactly the same age, he and Padraig only five weeks older. They’d all three celebrated their birthdays together last summer. “Fine, so you’re thirty-four. What’s the problem with that?”
“I’m out of time.”
Colm tilted his head, totally confused. “For what?”
“Children. My clock is ticking.”
Colm shook his head. “I’m sure a woman’s clock doesn’t start ticking until—”
“Thirty-two.”
“I thought it was thirty-five.”
Kelli shook her head. “Nope. It starts at thirty-two.”
“Oh. Well. Shit.”
“Yeah. Oh. Well. Shit,” she repeated.
He tried to minimize her concerns, certain things weren’t as dire as she thought. “Come on, Kell. You’re hardly ancient. I’m sure…”
“Did you know fertility drops rapidly after the age of 35?”
Colm winced, hoping to make her laugh. “Do you have to use words like fertility around me?”
She turned away from him, flopping her head back against the couch cushions. “I have no idea why I started this conversation with you.”
Damn. It was no wonder the two of them didn’t spend time alone together. After so many years of teasing and insults, he was saying all the wrong things simply because it was too hard to break the pattern.
Feeling guilty, he took a deep breath and tried again. “You know, there are a ton of kids in the foster care system who are looking for good homes. You could talk to Aunt Lauren about it.”
His aunt Lauren, Uncle Sean and Uncle Chad had taken in a few foster kids over the years, including Gavin, who was now sharing this apartment with
