As Dust Dances (Play On 2)

He shrugged. “I’m persuasive. And anyway . . . he’s a coward who thought he’d found someone he could manipulate in my sister. When she proved him wrong by breaking up with him, he tried to scare her into doing what he wanted. As soon as he realized he’d messed with the wrong sister, he practically pissed his trousers.” He shook his head. “Autumn knows how to fucking pick them.”

Feeling indignant on my friend’s behalf, I snapped, “It’s not her fault guys have been assholes to her.”

Killian threw me an impatient look. “I didn’t say it was. She’s openhearted and too trusting for her own good. Unfortunately, she’s had the bad luck of meeting only men who want to take advantage of that.”

“Well, hopefully, next time will be different.”

“It needs to be,” he replied. “I’m afraid meeting another arsehole might change her.”

“You won’t let that happen.”

This time his lips parted in surprise when he looked at me. Killian O’Dea was many things, including imperfect, but I believed in his love for his sister. That belief seemed to unsettle him and it was the last thing said between us until ten minutes later (it felt like ten hours!) when my curiosity prompted me to ask where we were going.

“Jaconelli’s. It’s a favorite of Autumn’s. She thought you might like it. It’s kind of a fifties American diner throwback.”

“Okay.”

And there was that damn silence again. When were we going to “talk”?

Killian cleared his throat. “It was in the film Trainspotting.”

“Huh?”

“Jaconelli’s. It was in Trainspotting.” He gave me a brief, questioning look before returning his attention to the road. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen Trainspotting?”

“Nope, I have not.”

“Please tell me you’ve at least heard of it?”

I chuckled at his disbelief. “I’ve heard of it. Ewan McGregor, right?”

“Oh, well, if it’s got Ewan McGregor in it, of course you’ve heard of it.”

I sniffed haughtily at his sarcasm. “I know it’s based on an Irvine Welsh novel.”

His lips twitched. “That’s something at least. Maybe I’ll forgive you for having not seen the film.”

“I thought it was set in Edinburgh?”

“It is. Little known fact: most of the scenes were shot in Glasgow.”

I smiled. I liked him like this. Chatting about nonsense. This was how he was when we were songwriting. My smile disappeared as I remembered his unkindness at the label. It was like he became a completely different person as soon as we walked into that place.

Just like that, silence fell between us again.

Five minutes later Killian parked off the main road in Maryhill but walked us back toward it. It was a typical fall day here, the rain falling hard and fast and slickening the sidewalks. It would all have been a mass of gray if not for the many vehicles passing by, the typical red sandstone architecture, cigarette stubs, and the multicolored blobs of chewing gum and trash that had cemented itself to the sidewalk over the years.

I’d never been to this part of Glasgow before and tried to take in as much as I could from beneath my umbrella. It seemed to be a busy thoroughfare for the city, with lots of traffic passing through. Businesses stood arm and arm below red sandstone apartments and offices. We strolled past stores on the street and stopped beneath a white sign that said Café D’Jaconelli. It was still early for lunch, so when we walked in, lowering our dripping umbrellas—or “brollies,” as Autumn called them—there were a couple of booths open.

I saw exactly what Killian meant by a fifties American diner throwback. The red-leather booths along one side of the wall, the curving stainless steel counter with the ice cream and old-fashioned candy jars behind it, and the essential jukebox in the back.

It was cozy and smelled amazing.

Killian gave me a searching look.

“I like it,” I assured him.

“The food is good,” he promised, and gestured for me to follow him to the empty booth by the jukebox. Drops of water that had lashed in under his umbrella glistened on his wool coat and I couldn’t help but admire the breadth and strength of his shoulders. He had what I’d call a swimmer’s build, which made sense because Autumn told me Killian swam every morning before work. It was a part of his life I wasn’t privy to: his workout routine. I guess I wasn’t privy to much of his personal life at all. And doubtful ever would be.

I slid into the booth opposite him, right next to the silent jukebox, grateful I’d be able to hear him when we eventually got around to our talk.

We ordered, and although I wanted a cheeseburger, I was trying to stick to Brenna’s recommended meal plans. She had me eating a whole lot of kale and fish and other healthy, protein-packed stuff and since my weight and energy levels were back to normal, I didn’t want to mess with it. So I ordered a baked potato with tuna and a salad.

“You’re being good?” he asked, surprised. “This place has the best burgers.”

“And it’s very tempting, but my meal plan is working for me. I feel great.”

He nodded and didn’t press any further. Killian ordered an omelet and a salad after that and I had to wonder if it was in deference to me so I didn’t get lunch envy.

“You wanted to talk?” I asked after the waitress left.

He nodded. Then sighed. Then shifted as if uncomfortable. This progressed to him playing with the tongs of the sugar cube bowl. Finally, he glanced around the diner, back at me, and then back to the tongs. I’d never seen him so unsure and I realized why as soon as he opened his mouth.

“I spoke to Autumn. She, uh . . .” His eyes flicked up to mine and then back down to the table. “She said that you told her . . .” He exhaled slowly and again lifted his gaze. There was a quiet intensity in his dark eyes that held me captive. “I hurt you. You told me some very personal things. I acted like a friend and then I was hurtful at the label. I hurt you.”

I didn’t reply. My expression said it all. Yes, you hurt me.

Regret softened his gaze. “I don’t like that I hurt you, Skylar. I’m sorry.”

Grateful for his apology, I replied, “I forgive you. I’m sorry for being rude to your uncle but not for his sake. For yours.”

Killian smirked. “Well, I forgive you. And if you must know, I want to punch him every time he calls me boy.”

I grinned. “I knew it.”

The smirk fell; the warmth bled from his expression. “I acted like an arsehole because of him. It’s not the first time. It’s just the first time anyone has called me out on it.”

Since he was being so honest, I decided to test the boundaries of that honesty. “Why do you need to prove yourself to him?”

Anger flashed across his face. “It’s not about proving myself. It’s about beating him. He’s held the fact that he took Autumn and me into his home over our heads for years. Every failure was our own but every success belonged to him. I want to surpass him. I want him to know that everything we have we have because we earned it. That we’re better than him. That we don’t need him.”

God, I truly disliked James Byrne. “He holds the fact that he took in two kids over their heads? So what? He had one tiny bone of decency in his body and that makes you forever in his debt? Fuck that.”

Killian’s eyes danced at my anger.

I realized I’d cursed quite loudly. “Sorry. It’s just . . . you don’t see it.”

“See what?”

“Why he calls you boy when you became a man long before other boys had to. You became a man the moment you realized you were all that Autumn had left.”

His eyes flared and he sank into the booth like I’d knocked him off balance.

I nodded. “You did, Killian. You’ve been a parent since you were eleven years old. You’re not perfect. We both know that. But you’re one of the most passionate, determined men I’ve ever met. And your uncle, who is a typical bully, calls you boy because he knows you’re more of a man than he’ll ever be. You’re there for your sister to protect her, love her, in a way he’s probably never been there for anyone. And he knows what you’ve done for that label and I have a feeling it scares him. Maybe you tap into his insecurities. Maybe he’s afraid you will surpass him because he knows you can, and so he does what he can to make you feel small and worthless—knowing it affects you makes him feel powerful again.” It all came out in a rush of sympathetic frustration.