Finn

Chapter Twenty-Three

I was surprised Cillian wasn't waiting for me the second I walked in the front door of the house. A couple pack members milled about in the living room, enjoying the free time of the weekend. Rory squeezed my arm, giving me an encouraging smile as she nodded towards the stairs. She pushed me in the direction gently before disappearing to talk with a group of people on the couches.

Cillian's office was on the second floor, and I'd never been inside. If he wasn't on patrol or training, he was in meetings or doing work in his office, and that meant he didn't want to be disturbed. So I had never tried bothering him when he holed himself up inside. But I figured he was most likely to wait for me there over his bedroom, so I headed in that direction.

I dragged my feet down the hall, my brain running through every possible scenario. If he was angry, what would he say? What would I say?  Is he still mad at Turin? Is he mad at me? What if he was hurt by what I had said? I know I was a little harsh with him, but I stood by what I said to him. We would never work if he continued trying to control me and treat me like an object.

My feet stopped in front of his door, hesitated as I sucked in a sharp breath. I considered running away, but I knew he probably heard me and smelled me coming. He was being polite letting me knock on the door. So I lifted my shaking hand, and tapped lightly on the thick wood. It wasn't loud, but I knew he would heard it.

The door swung open before I could finish knocking, and I stumbled forward at the loss of contact. Cillian reached an arm out and steadied me, his palm hot on my arm. I felt the familiar tingles of his touch, and hated how instantly relaxed it made me feel.

"Finley, thank the goddess." Cillian breathed as he pulled me into the office and shut the door. I followed him cautiously, watching as took a step back and looked me over. I cleared my throat, preparing to say something, but he stopped me by stepping towards me again and pulling me into a bone crushing hug.

He wrapped his arms around my waist, squeezing until I could barely breathe. I yelped in surprise at the sudden contact, my legs flailing beneath me as he lifted me off of the ground. My arms rested awkwardly on his shoulders as I steadied myself. I waited for a moment, and when I realized he wasn't going to let me down I gave in and wrapped my arms around his neck. I let my head fall, propping my chin on his shoulder while he buried his head in the messy curls I'd left down today.

"I am so sorry..." Cillian mumbled into my hair, his voice so quiet I almost missed it. I pretended I hadn't heard him anyway, staying silent and unmoving in his arms. He loosened his grip slightly, pulling back so he could look at me as he repeated himself, "I'm so sorry, baby."

I resisted the urge to make a face at the pet name. He'd never called me that before, and I felt like a fight wasn't the best time to try it out. I made a mental note to ask him about it later.

"What are you sorry for?" I asked him, tilting my head as I studied his face. I had been fully prepared for him to be angry or hurt, so his apology caught me a little off guard.

Cillian didn't answer me at first, taking his time to stare at me. He slowly placed my feet back on the ground, but kept an arm wrapped around my waist. With his other arm, he moved his hand up to my face and brushed my hair out of the way and over my shoulders.

"I'm sorry for forgetting about our date." Cillian told me, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. He was so close to my face I felt his breath as he spoke. A shiver ran through me when I felt him lean forward and brush his lips against my forehead.

"I'm sorry for being controlling."

He moved to kiss my cheek.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you."