Page 46 of My Craving

“Why?”

“I’m a clinical psychopath.”

Nash stares at me. “You’re a fucking what?”

The question doesn’t offend me. Most people hear the word and immediately think of serial killers.

“I experience emotion differently than you do. Some of it is muted. Guilt and remorse in particular don’t affect me the way they affect most people, and there are times when I recognize a physical response before I can identify the emotion behind it.”

His attention stays fixed on me. “So you do have emotions.”

“Aye. I never said I didn’t.”

“What about this?” He gestures between us. “Because you’ve spent a lot of time telling me you want me, and I’d really like to know whether that means the same thing to you that it does to me.”

“It means I want you in my life.”

His gaze searches mine.

“I didn’t bring you here as part of some plan, Nash. I had no idea Kieran and Alessia were going to tell us any of this tonight. I brought you because I wanted you beside me.”

“That’s something you should understand about this family,” Alessia says. “The men may experience some emotions differently, but when they love someone, there’s never been anything casual about it.”

Nash glances toward Kieran.

His arm is resting along the back of Alessia’s chair now, his fingers brushing absently against her shoulder. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s doing it.

“When Kieran decided I was his,” Alessia continues, “there was no convincing him otherwise. Then I watched the same thing happen with the boys. Once one of these Murphy men decides someone belongs with him, subtlety tends to disappear.”

Nash looks back at me. “That explains so fucking much.”

Kieran snorts. “Wait until he starts following you.”

Nash gives him a flat look. “We’re well past that.” My brother laughs. “And apparently he has a secret nickname nobody will translate for me.” Nash points at me. “Although I did just learn there’s a Ducky story you’ve been keeping from me.”

I glare at Kieran.

“Oh, no.” Nash’s grin appears. “That reaction means it’s good.”

“Ollie calls him Ducky,” Kieran says.

Nash turns slowly toward me, visibly fighting a laugh. “Ducky?”

“Forget you heard it.”

“Absolutely fucking not, Ducky.”

I tighten my hand around his. “Careful, brat.” The grin stays on his face, but when I say, “A Sholas,” some of the teasing leaves his expression.

“You still haven’t told me what that means.”

“You thought I was calling you a brat.”

“I assumed it was a safe bet.”

“It means my light.”

He goes quiet. I run my thumb across the back of his hand. “You asked why I want you. Before you started coming to my office, I never ate lunch at my desk every day. Then I started changing my routine without realizing why. Ronan noticed before I did.”