Lads like Kian

Mallory

Kian's house was quiet when we walked in, the usual tension that lingered when his dad was around nowhere to be found.

"No one's home?" I asked, slipping off my shoes.

"Nah," Kian said, tossing his keys onto the kitchen counter. "Mam's probably work, and God knows where the aul' fella is."

He didn't say it with much care—just a fact. His dad being gone was always better than the alternative.

I followed him into the sitting room, dropping onto the couch as he grabbed the remote. Instead of heading straight for his room like we normally did, he flopped down beside me, stretching his legs out on the coffee table.

"So," I said, leaning back, "what's the plan?"

He smirked. "You tell me, princess."

I rolled my eyes but didn't bother hiding my smile. "You invited me over. Shouldn't you be entertaining me?"

Kian scoffed. "Like I don't already do that just by existing."

I grabbed a pillow and smacked him in the chest. "You wish."

He caught it before I could pull away, tugging me closer by the wrist. "I know."

I huffed, but my heart was already speeding up. We'd been like this before—close, teasing, always toeing the line—but now there wasn't a line anymore.

He was mine. And I was his.

His hand slid down my wrist to lace our fingers together. "Wanna watch a film?"

I raised a brow. "Are you actually suggesting we watch something, or is this just a setup for you to get your hands on me?"

Kian smirked, eyes darkening just slightly. "Can't it be both?"

My stomach flipped. "You're insufferable."

"And yet," he said, tugging me even closer, "you love it."

I rolled my eyes, but I let him pull me into his side, resting my head against his shoulder as he flicked through Netflix.

For once, we weren't sneaking around. No risk of being caught. No expectations.

Just us.

Kian

Mallory was curled into my side, legs draped over mine, fingers tracing absentminded shapes on my forearm as some film played in the background. I wasn't paying attention. Not when she was right there, warm and soft against me, her perfume in my lungs, her body molded perfectly to mine.

Every time she shifted, my grip on her tightened. I needed her close.

And when she tilted her head up, looking at me like she was thinking about something—about me—I didn't hesitate.

I leaned in, brushing my lips over hers.

She hummed, eyes fluttering shut as she kissed me back, her fingers curling into my hoodie. I deepened the kiss, tugging her into my lap properly, hands slipping under the hem of her hoodie to rest against her waist.

She sighed into my mouth, hips shifting against mine, and a low groan escaped me. My grip tightened, fingers digging into her skin.

And then—

BANG.

The front door slammed shut.

We froze.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, and I already knew who it was before he even opened his mouth.

"That little girlfriend of yours in there with ya, Kian?!"

Mallory stiffened against me, pulling back just as dad stepped into the doorway.

His gaze landed on us instantly, a smirk curling on his face as his eyes dragged over her lazily.

"Well, well," he drawled, leaning against the doorframe. "Knew you were seein' someone, but I didn't know it was her."

Mallory's shoulders squared. "Hi, Mr Holland."

I knew what she was doing—keeping her voice even, controlled, like she wasn't affected by his presence. But I could feel the way she tensed beside me.

Dad let out a low chuckle. "Christ, didn't think I'd see you around here again after the last time." His gaze flicked to me. "She know who she's dealin' with, son?"

My jaw clenched. "Go to bed, Da."

He ignored me, eyes back on Mallory. "Joey know you're slummin' it down here?"

Mallory's expression didn't waver. "I'm not slumming anything."

Da let out a low whistle, grinning. "Spunky, ain't she?" He looked at me. "You got yourself a firecracker, boy."

I saw red.

I stood, subtly shifting in front of Mallory. "You've said your peace. Go sleep it off."

Da's smirk faltered just slightly. But he didn't push it. He shot Mallory one last glance before turning back toward the hall.

"I'd watch yourself, sweetheart," he threw over his shoulder. "Lads like Kian don't come with happy endings."

I clenched my fists. Mallory didn't move.

He disappeared down the hall, his bedroom door slamming shut a moment later.

Silence.

I turned back to Mallory. "You okay?"

She nodded, but her arms were still crossed tightly over her chest.

"I hate him," she muttered under her breath.

I exhaled, reaching for her hand. She let me take it, squeezing tight.

"I know."