My Pulse

Chapter 27: Quinn Keane

I don't open my eyes until I hear the seatbelt sign ding off, signaling we've leveled out. A dull headache pulses in my temple, and my body feels sore. I pull out my phone to check my calendar, confirming what I already suspected—my period is on the horizon. I must be ovulating right now because my breasts are tender, and my body feels hypersensitive.

My thoughts drift to our unprotected sex, and anxiety creeps in. I'm never this reckless, especially considering how religious I am about taking my pill. 

I feel eyes on me. 

When I glance up, I catch Cian watching me intently. He doesn't even look away when our gazes meet. 

"Are you feeling alright?" he asks softly, reaching for my hand. 

"I'm okay," I reply, though the tension in my voice betrays me. "Just some woman pains. It's almost that time for me." 

Cian nods, offering a small smile. "Let me know if you need anything. We have painkillers." 

"That would be great, actually. I'm always hurting around this time," I admit. 

He rises without hesitation to retrieve them, and I feel a pang of guilt. 

I'm so nervous about seeing Kieran in front of Cian that my thoughts spiral. My mind keeps drifting back to the other night with Kieran. The memory of his touch makes my cheeks flush, and I clench my fists, trying to push it away. If Cian ever found out, there would be no mercy. 

When he returns, he hands me the painkillers along with a glass of water. 

"Here," he says, his voice warm but watchful. 

"Thank you," I reply, swallowing the pills. I need a distraction from my spiraling thoughts. 

"How about that drink?" I ask with a grin. 

He gives me a matching smirk and stands. "I'll be right back," he says, disappearing behind the curtain. 

The sound of Kieran's voice hits me like a freight train. He's talking to Cian. 

My stomach knots, and I bang my head softly against the headrest. *What the hell am I doing?* These men are driving me insane in their own ways. Kieran's slow, calculated charm has won me over piece by piece, while Cian's raw dominance has consumed me entirely. 

As much as I try, I can't stop my thoughts from returning to Cian. His energy radiates danger, yet it pulls me in. He doesn't judge me for the darkness in my soul because his is just as deep. 

Cian returns, interrupting my thoughts, holding a Jack and Coke. I greedily take it from him. 

"You really don't like flying, do you?" he asks, taking his seat. 

I shrug. "It's not my favorite thing." 

I glance nervously at the curtain behind him, but he catches my eye. His expression hardens slightly, suspicion flickering in his gaze. 

"Is there anything else going on?" he asks carefully. 

"Yeah," I respond, my tone sharper than I intended. "My best friend's dad is in a hospital bed, and no fucking painkillers are going to fix this." 

Cian's expression softens, his gaze shifting toward the front of the cabin. 

"I'm sorry you don't feel well, baby," he says gently. "What can I do? I'll get you back as soon as I can, but I had to ensure it was safe for us to return." 

"Tell me more about the deal with the FBI," I say, steering the conversation in another direction. "Will everything go back to normal?" 

He leans back in his seat, his expression cool. "I'm not sure about *normal*, but yes, essentially, we have immunity."