Free Wild Irish Envy (Copperline #2) by Sibylla Matilde

then she shook her head slowly from side to side.
    “No, because you weren’t a dick at first and then you were. And then, out of the blue, you aren’t again.”
    “Fliss—” I warned. I didn’t want to go there. I didn’t even want to think about it, much less talk about it. Especially with her, of all people.
    “At first,” she softly said, “when we first met at Tech, those first few times, it was like you weren’t even the same person. You were so different. And that’s the person I saw on the plane. The person who took care of me and came back to the hotel to check on me.”
    My gut twisted with her words. She was right. Self-preservation had made me a complete arse. My dedication to a friend and my own helpless feelings for a girl I couldn’t have.
    It was hard to talk about with her because it had affected her the most. She had affected me the most, right from the start with her sweet smile and jailbait body. Always just out of my reach.
    I wondered how it might have been different, had I gotten her number that day. Told the guys about her, despite the shite they’d throw at me for it. Kept in contact. Just enough to keep Trent from laying claim.
    But I hadn’t. And Trent had. He’d made her his.
    And that thought shut my mind down. It was far too easy to sit with her and feel comfortable. To get lost in her eyes and her smile and all the sweetness that her simple little touch on my arm promised.
    I leaned away, doing my best to ignore the pained expression that lit on her face and the uncomfortable weight that suddenly filled the air. I let my defensive indifference wash over me, making me cold and glazing over my eyes. It numbed the longing and the humanity in me.
    “There he is,” she murmured sadly.
    “Who?”
    “That other Denny,” she said with a dejected tone. “The one I usually see. The asshole one. I was wondering when he’d show up.”
    “There’s only one of me, Fliss,” I frowned. “It’s more likely you’re projecting a nice guy onto me where there’s not one.”
    “No,” she shook her head and leaned forward, “I’ve seen a few glimpses of someone truly remarkable. That first Denny I met… he was remarkable. That Denny who kept me from getting busted at that party, he was remarkable.”
     

 
     

    April, four years ago
     
    The party…
    A few weeks after seeing her at the Copperline, and I was doing my best to stay away.
    I couldn’t have her, but didn’t want to sit around watching her with Trent. And seeing the look on her face when that Jillian scrubber had kissed me had sorta left a mark. It had clearly hurt her, which had hurt me.
    However, it was Drew’s birthday, so it would have raised too much suspicion to skip out. I stayed, my wanting of her eating away at my resolve.
    The cops had shown up, and Fliss had jumped out a window, trying to avoid a minor in possession charge. Since the drinking age in Montana was twenty-one, those of us who were legal appreciated when the minors bailed because we would get nailed with contributing to the delinquency of a minor if we were caught together.
    However, when she jumped out the window, she’d twisted her ankle. It was a pretty fair drop from the top floor of the split-level house, not quite two usual stories high, but well more than a typical ground level window. I was standing by the window she leapt from and had heard a whimper of pain as she hit the ground. Without even thinking about it, I’d gone after her, almost landing right on top of her. She had scrambled into the juniper bushes alongside the house and was holding her ankle.
    “You alright?” I asked in a low voice.
    “I fucked up my ankle,” she whispered. “God, if I get busted, my dad’s going to kill me.”
    “Hop on my back,” I said without even thinking twice, turning my back to her and kneeling. “I’ll get you out of here.”
    She hesitated only a moment before I felt her slight weight and her arms wrap around my shoulders. I tucked