by Allison Parr
It became a lot more difficult to breathe. I tried a smile. “Why? Have you hallucinated me before?”
He raised his brows and my throat tightened. I should’ve thought more carefully before I spoke.
I cleared my throat. “If this is too weird, I could get a place in Cork—”
“No.” He spoke so quickly I was silenced, and a hint of color streaked across his cheekbones. “I just meant—I’ve spent a solid week touring Ireland with only my mother and younger sisters.”
It struck me as a little odd that he hadn’t come straight to Dundoran after a death in the family, but I skipped over that in favor of the family itself. “That’s right. Eileen—the innkeeper—said your family was here with you.”
“Yeah. They’re staying in one of the cottages out back. I’m staying in this main house, though—I needed space.”
I nodded two or three times more than necessary. “She also mentioned our rooms happen to be facing each other.” I let a beat pass to acknowledge the situational irony and ridiculousness of that. “What a coincidence.”
The crooked smile that curved his lips made me feel incredibly odd and self-conscious. The way he looked at me made me think he was imagining exactly what nearby rooms might mean.
Time for a topic change. “So! I saw that lateral touchdown pass in the AFC title game last year. Pretty badass.”
Shock crossed his face, and he stared at me like I’d started spouting Greek. Well, at a non-Greek spouting appropriate time. Greek spouting did occasionally happen at academic conferences. “You watched that?”
“Well, yeah. I’m a Leopards fan.”
He cocked his head slightly. “No, you’re not.”
What was that supposed to mean? “Am too.”
He flashed a sudden, wide grin at me. “So you knew about me. The day you walked into my office.”
I shrugged. “What’s to know? You’re shockingly fast. Two years ago you had the single season record for yards-per-carry. You’re theoretically charming.”
He shook his head, still smiling. “You ever come to any of my games?”
I swallowed. “A couple.”
He leaned closer, and I mirrored him. When our knees brushed energy jolted through me. “Wow. But you treat me with so little respect.”
A new voice rang out. “Oh my God.”
I automatically straightened away from Mike and glanced toward the doorway, and stared in shock. A girl with deep red hair stood in the frame—a younger, female version of Mike. She’d gathered her hair up in a huge messy bun and stabbed it through with lacquered chopsticks, and the red seemed even more vibrant compared to her all black outfit. Black lined her narrowed eyes, while heavy, expensive jewelry dangled off her ears around her neck. She scowled in my direction. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
I glanced at Mike with rounded eyes to see if that was directed at me.
Slight color rose on Mike’s cheekbones. “This is my sister, Anna. Anna, this is Natalie.”
I waved. “Nice to meet you.”
Anna tilted her head. “You’re an American.” She pursed her lips together, and then I watched as suspicion visibly entered her mind. Her eyes flickered back and forth between us. “Wait. Wait.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Mike said levelly.
She started shaking her head. “Do you two—do you two know each other?”
Mike and I exchanged a glance. “Um,” I hedged. “We met once—twice—in New York.”
“Oh my God.” Now she spoke directly to her brother. “I can’t believe you. Are you serious?”
Mike finally sounded exasperated. “Anna, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Anna raised one hand and pressed another to her heart like she was about to place an oath. “God forbid you want to spend any time with your actual fucking family.” She turned and stomped off.
Mike and I watched her go, and her comments slowly fell in place for me. I looked at Mike. “Did she think...that I came here with you? Like as a...girlfriend or something?”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “I think so. I’m so sorry.”
“That’s okay,” I said on autopilot. “I mean, it makes sense why she’d be mad at you then, if she thought she had her brother to herself and then he’d brought some random girl with him.”
He let out a deep breath and leaned his head into his hands. “Before this week, I’d forgotten how much teens talked in italics.”
That startled a laugh out of me. “I don’t know, sometimes I think I talk in italics a lot. Or all caps.”
Two more women walked through the door, at a much more sedate pace. One had the same bright hair as Mike and Anna, and looked my age. The other, a pale brunette, wore jeans and what everyone else called a mom haircut, though my mother would never be caught dead like that. She smiled, and I saw an echo of Mike in her.
She kissed her son on the cheek. “Hello, dear.” She angled herself at me and smiled, clearly expecting an introduction.
Mike provided it, gesturing my way. “This is Natalie Sullivan, an...acquaintance from home. She’s—interested in local history.”
The second sister snorted. When we all turned to look at her, she covered it with a cough, looking a little red. “Sorry. Something in my throat. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Lauren.”
“And I’m Kate,” the mother said. “It’s so nice to meet one of Mike’s friends. Won’t you join us for dinner?”
“Mom—” Mike began in a low voice.
Kate blinked. “Unless you don’t want to, of course.”
I felt caught. I wouldn’t mind eating with a family, but not if Mike didn’t want me there. “I’d love to,” I said a little uncertainly, and then glanced at Mike. “I mean, if it’s okay with you?”
It only took half a second before he had that charming smile back on his face. “Yeah, of course.”
* * *
We ate in a comfortable, well-appointed dining room, where the wide windows let in the last of the day’s light and the other tables were filled with the rest of the inn’s guests. Eileen and her granddaughter brought out greens, a beet salad, hearty brown bread, beef stew and mashed potatoes.
Kate smiled as we all served ourselves. “So how did you two meet?”
Mike smoothed butter across his bread. “Natalie’s...considering working in the area.”
Lauren propped her chin on her hand and looked skeptical.
“Oh, I see.” Kate frowned into her food. “So where are you staying, Natalie?”
“Here, actually.” I pointed at the ceiling. “Third floor.”
Kate nodded. “Mike, isn’t that where you are?”
I glanced at Mike, who looked equally guilty. He cleared his throat. It was kind of charming to see a celebrity cowed by his mom. “Yeah. That’s me.”
Anna snorted.
“Hmm.” Kate paused to let a spoonful of stew cool. “I’d been hoping Michael was finally introducing us to a girlfriend.”
I started coughing on my salad.
“Mom!” Mike and Anna chorused. Lauren just let out a long, beleaguered sigh.
“What?” Kate didn’t sound embarrassed at all. “I was married by the time I was Lauren’s age. I don’t think it’s so unreasonable to want the same for my children.”
“Thank you, Mom, for pointing out your marital status at twenty-three again,” Lauren said.
“Natalie is just a friend, Mom,” Mike added. “We’ve barely even known each other a month.”
Kate raised her brow. “If you insist,” she said, in much the same way my brother Evan said the lady doth protest too much.
Something hit my shin. “Ow!”
A horrified expression crossed Lauren’s face. “Oh my God, I am so sorry, I was aiming for Mike.”
Mike leaned his head back and groaned.
Anna laughed.
Kate held out the breadbasket in my direction. “Would you like another piece, Natalie?”
“That sounds great,”
I said, and took one.
Mike pulled himself up out of his embarrassment to look at his mom. “So what’s the schedule? Did you see Patrick’s wife?”
Kate stabbed more forcefully than necessary at a beet, sending it skittering across her plate. “We’ll swing by Friday morning. Tomorrow we need to go shopping.” She directed a pointed look at her youngest. “Anna, despite bringing a wardrobe entirely in black, doesn’t have a single appropriate outfit for the—what’s it called?” She turned to her eldest daughter.
“The month’s mind.” Lauren looked at me when she explained. “It’s like a month after someone dies, family and friends go to mass and have a meal to remember the person. We missed the funeral, so we’re going to it instead.”
“He’s already buried,” Anna said. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”
Lauren rolled her eyes. “It’s a matter of respect.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? How is it respectful to skip out on the funeral and then run around town?”
Kate frowned. “Anna. Do not swear.”
She slammed her fork down. “For Christ’s sake, Mom. What are you going to do about it? Ship me away from my friends and my boyfriend and my job for the summer? Oh, wait. That already happened.” She shoved back the chair and stomped out of the room, her combat boots heavy on the pale wooden floor.
Wow. I wished I’d been that ballsy at her age.
Kate turned to me. “I’m sorry. I wish I could say she wasn’t always like this...”
“Is she?” Mike sounded surprised. “She definitely had an attitude when she visited New York, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”
Kate smiled flatly as she raised her drink again. “That, dear, is because you don’t live with her.”
Family politics were above my pay grade. With a smile and a flurry of pleasantries all around, I left them to their squabbling.
Chapter Six
Back in my room, I video-called Cam, and to my shock and delight she answered. I could see her bed and posters behind her. She stared squealing immediately “You’re there! Oh my God! How is it?”
“Ireland’s gorgeous. Haven’t seen the village yet. As for the inn—well. I’m staying across the hall from Michael O’Connor. I met and then had dinner with his entire family just now.”
She started laughing and flailing her arms about. “Ahh! I’m so excited!”
I couldn’t help grinning. “It’s so awkward. I actually like him as a person, but I feel weird about the whole Kilkarten excavation disagreement thing. How are we supposed to act?”
“You could try to get him to reconsider.”
“If only.” I paused, and then rushed my next words. “I did kind of have a thought.”
She raised her brows and gestured regally. “Do go on.”
“He has two sisters. And I kind of wondered... What’s their take on the excavation? Maybe they just have great poker faces, but when I said I was an archaeologist interested in the area, they acted like they’d never heard of me. Shouldn’t Mike have talked to them about the dig before he rejected it?”
She shrugged. “Maybe he owns the land outright and didn’t need their agreement.”
“Maybe,” I agreed, but that sounded dubious. I sighed. “It probably doesn’t even matter. Anyway. How are you?”
“I sat through a three hour meeting and listened to people argue about a color scheme. I was like, what does this have to do with anything? Why am I here?”
“How very existential.”
“Oh, but then I was thinking about the color red, and did you know it’s a biological turn on? Like, people are more likely to say they don’t like red lipstick or find red dresses too much, but they actually find it hot. So your football player is scientifically more sexy than others!”
“In Ancient Greece they thought redheads were vampires.”
“Well, that is a great tidbit that you should never mention again.”
I groaned. “His family’s also super nice. They invited me to have dinner with them. Who does that?” I sandwiched my nose and mouth between my palms and pulled them down. “I think I’m going to go knock on his door and try to de-awkwardize this situation.”
“Because going over to his room late at night isn’t awkward?”
I glanced at the clock. “It’s only eight-ten. And won’t admitting this is strange be better than saying nothing?”
She shook her head. “There’s no avoiding awkwardness. You just have to muddle through it until everyone’s made peace.”
Despite that, I still headed across the hall after disconnecting from Cam. I collected my half eaten bag of Reeses, and glanced quickly in the mirror. The reflection wasn’t impressive, but I wasn’t supposed to care about that. I made a face and then stepped out through my door, closing it firmly behind me.
Mike’s door loomed ahead. Well, the bird decal and light green paint kept the looming from being too impressive, but still. I stared at that bird for at least a minute, breathing shallowly, before I took two quick steps across the hall and banged loudly on his door.
It swung inward almost immediately. Mike stood there, ruffling his gleaming curls with a towel. He’d slung another around his waist. It dipped dangerously low. “Hey.”
Instead of answering, I watched water trickle down his neck, tracing down his bare, tan chest, and slipping over his well-defined abdomen.
“Like what you see?”
I dragged my gaze up to his grinning face. “Shouldn’t you not open your door half naked?”
His grin widened and he shrugged nonchalantly.
My gaze slipped down again, and I yanked them up as my cheeks burned. “Uh. Sorry. I can come back some other time.”
His eyes danced. “Just give me five.”
I nodded as I backed away, but once I’d closed my door I leaned against it and let out a moan.
Apparently not quietly enough, because I heard a low chuckle through my door. I tossed the candy on the dresser and then flung myself onto my bed, this time using my pillow to muffle my embarrassment.
For five impossibly long minutes, I tried to make myself breathe deeply and think of something calming and non-sexual. Unfortunately, I was having a hard time coming up with non-sexual objects. Or not just straight up picturing Mike’s body.
I had the worst timing in the history of the world.
Then again, he could have thrown a shirt on. Who answered the door practically naked? I could have been room service. He could have scarred someone.
Then again, he hadn’t seemed surprised to see me, and my door had a peek-hole. So maybe he’d chosen not to put a shirt on.
Okay. I had to stop overthinking everything.
Over five minutes had passed, so I picked up the goods and went back to his door. This time, Mike wore jeans and a Leopard’s T-shirt when he opened the door.
“Sorry,” I said automatically. “About—earlier.”
“No worries. What’s up?”
I lifted the Reeses. “I brought peace offerings.”
He stepped back and I moved inside his room. It had the same set up as mine, but there were already marks of his presence, sneakers and shirts tossed carelessly about. A set of weights lay in one corner, a football beside them. I wondered if he had anyone to practice with here.
The door clicked shut behind me and I turned back to Mike. He cocked his head at the half-eaten bag of candy. “That’s a pretty paltry olive branch.”
“I know. I was munchy earlier.” When he sat on his bed, I took it as my cue to curl up in an overstuffed mint-green armchair several feet away. He didn’t look away from me as he leaned against the headboard, his long legs sprawled out before him.
I took a deep breath. “Look, I know it’s a little awkward, me being here. Especially when I’m sort of a work problem and this is your personal life, and your family’s here... If it bothers you, I can get a room in Cork.” The bus ride would take an hour to get to the village, but that would be preferable to dealing
with Mike if he didn’t want me here. “So, I don’t know, I just of thought if you had any issues you wanted aired, we could air them. Now. Until we’re cool.”
He stared at me.
I sank my head into my hands. “I’m sorry. I’m not a very eloquent speaker. Which sort of sucks, because I have a speech to give in September and I’m already freaking out about it.” I sighed and looked up. “How are you so together?”
He popped a Reeses in his mouth. “I’m not together.”
I scoffed.
“Didn’t you see my family down there?”
His warm, entertaining family that was so comfortable with one another that they could pick and snap at each other without fear of damaging their relationships? “Yeah. They’re wonderful.”
“Wonderful in moderation.”
“I mean it. They’re great.”
He cocked his head at my tone. “What’s that mean?”
All right, maybe I’d been a little too emphatic. I lifted my shoulders in slight embarrassment. “They were great.”
His eyes widened. “Are you kidding? Didn’t you notice my little sister storming out?”
I dismissed that with a wave of my hand. “She’s seventeen.”
“Yeah, old enough to know better. Were you like that at seventeen?”
I’d been president of National Honors Society, president of the French club, vice-president of the Sobriety Council, junior member of the Rotary Club and a choir member. For my seventeenth birthday party, my parents’ friends’ children and several members of my class had come over for a catered dinner by a local celebrity chef.
That year, like the sixteen before it, I had spent almost every day wanting to gouge my eyes out in the few moments I didn’t feel numb.
“At least she has a personality,” I said firmly.
“What, and you didn’t?”
I shrugged. “I had personas.” The perfect daughter, the perfect student. “Pretty boring. I’d take cursing goth kids any day.”
He groaned. “She’s dating some baby biker dude. Instead of going to college she wants to work in his sister’s tattoo parlor.”
“Well. I guess she won’t have to worry about student loans?”