"Why don’t you come and finish your drink with us? No, on second thought, introducing you to my mates, really bad way of getting your number."
"Are you always like this?"
"What, Irish, devilishly handsome and in a pub?" He shrugged. "Mostly, yeah. Oh, Leo, by the way."
"What?"
"My name. It’s Leo." He held out his hand. "So you know what to put in your mobile." It came out mow-boil and made me want to lick my lips again.
"You’re very forceful." I switched the bottle to my left hand and took his. Warm. And... I wanted him to touch me more.
"But you’re not offended."
"How do you know?"
"You haven’t kicked me in the nuts. That’s always a good sign."
I couldn’t help it; his shameless flirting, overt chat-up lines and cocky confidence made me laugh. Or maybe that was the nerves.
He ran his thumb over the back of my hand before letting it go and my fingers flinched. Touch me again.
"Can I be honest with you?" He frowned momentarily, bit his lip.
"Sure. Go ahead."
"I think you’re very attractive and I didn’t want to let you leave without asking for your number, that’s all. I didn’t think to ask if you were with someone or even if you were single. If you’re not, then fair enough, but you can’t blame a guy for trying."
Amusing and flattering. A stomach-churning combination. I took a deep breath. Don’t do this, Piper. This is such a bad idea. You’re in a mess, and— "Yes I am." I really shouldn’t have said that.
"What the hell is wrong with the guys in this town?"
"I finished with someone a few weeks back." Or that.
"I always did have excellent timing." He winked. "It’s a cliché, but the luck of the Irish really does exist."
"And I met you in a pub. You’re a walking, talking caricature, aren’t you?"
He dug into his trouser pocket, pulled out a mobile phone. "Well before you go, then..."
Heart pounding, I had to look away for a few seconds. This felt like a bad move and an exciting one all at the same time. But what was I supposed to say to him? You’re gorgeous but don’t fall in love with me; I’ll only break your heart? We’d only just met. Then again, he was a fast mover, so the rules of appropriate social behavior probably didn’t apply with Leo whatever-his-surname-was.
"I’ve just realized, I don’t even know your name."
"Do you often ask for women’s numbers without finding that out?"
"Only the best-looking ones."
I choked on my drink, and he laughed while I came back down to Earth. "Piper."
"Shit, sorry, love, I— What?"
"Piper." I pointed at his mobile. "That’s how you save me. That’s my name." What the heck am I doing?
"Piper?"
"Yeah, I know. I get that reaction a lot."
"It’s nearly as unusual as my name. My full name, I mean," he added before I could enquire. "Okay, shoot." He stared at me and it was a wonder I could remember my own name, let alone my number, but his accent, his deep, dark eyes and that smirk broke down my resistance. At that moment I’d have given him my PIN if he’d asked for it.
"I’d best be off." I drained my bottle and set it down on a nearby table.
"Wait, wait, just a sec." Leo took my arm and though his touch burned, it made me shiver. Twenty-four years old and I’d never reacted to a man that way before. "You got your phone on you?"
"Yeah, always. Why?"
He hit a button on his phone. "Show me."
When I pulled my mobile out of my handbag, it was alight and a new number had appeared on its screen.
"Good. You didn’t fake me out, then."
"Why the hell would I give you a fake?"
"Now you can save my number and you’ll know it’s me when I call."
"We’ll see if you do."
"Course I will. I don’t go to the trouble of putting down a pint of Guinness to chase after a woman unless I really want her number. I’ll definitely be in touch."
I cleared my throat. "Well. Have a wonderful evening, Leo."
"I already did." He winked.
Laughing as I exited, I failed in my attempts to ignore the devil on my shoulder whispering in desperation, please let him call, please let him call.
Before the crowd swallowed me up I looked back and couldn’t help smiling.
Leo whatever-his-surname-was saluted me with his mobile phone and grinned.
Yep. He’ll call.
Five
The following Monday evening, my customary sigh of pleasure as I sank beneath the bubbles morphed into a groan of annoyance. Impatience too, perhaps. Usually I loafed in the bath until the water wrinkled my skin but Gray had called me on the mobile as I’d left work, uttering those immortal words, "We need to talk."
Unsettled due to his upcoming visit, I covered my face with my hands, getting soap bubbles in my eyes. "Oh bloody hell, Piper Holt, how do you manage to get yourself into these situations?"
But the quiet of the bathroom, temporarily disturbed by the distant echo of my own voice, was my only reply. Maybe I should have had a shower after getting home instead. Quicker. Less temptation to relax and make feeble attempts to block out the world.
I scrubbed the day’s sweat and grime away, pulled the plug and got out. Once dry, I dressed in a vest and pair of jeans, the simplicity of which showed I hadn’t gone overboard in my efforts to be presentable. To think I’d gone to such lengths to impress Gray the night I’d been out with him and Matthias and yet now, here I was, dressing down so it wouldn’t look like I was trying to seduce him.
Time slowed as seven o’clock neared but eventually Gray arrived. "Hey you!" I said with fake cheerfulness, as he crossed the threshold and bent down to kiss my cheek. "How’s it going?"
"Not bad." He smiled.
"Cuppa? I was just about to make one."
"Sure. Coffee would be great."
As I busied myself with the kettle and mugs, Gray leaned against the kitchen doorframe. He made no move to take off his coat or make himself at home.
"Aren’t you staying?" I asked, nodding at his jacket.
"What?" He looked down at himself. "Oh, this? Well..." A casual shrug, and I wondered if it was truly casual. "That kinda depends, doesn’t it?"
"Oh?" I turned back to the cups. "Just milk for you, isn’t it?" Thank goodness I’d remembered. It gave me something to say to fill the silence.
"Look, I wanted to see you tonight to see if... well, we’ve hardly spoken since we..."
Blood pounded in my ears as I waited for him to finish the sentence.
"...slept together. And I know I’m only a bloke and sometimes we get it wrong but I get the feeling there’s something up. It was my fault, wasn’t it?"
"Your fault?" I spun round, amazed at his unwarranted mea culpa. "How do you mean?"
He rolled his eyes, looked to the ceiling, into the middle distance, down at the floor. Anywhere but straight at me.
"What I said. In the morning. The morning after? I scared you off when I said I loved you."
"Oh. That."
At last he was able to meet my gaze with his own. "Yes." He raised his eyebrows as he stared at me. "That. It’s not every day a bloke says something like that you know. Well, not this bloke. Maybe guys say that to you all the time, but..."
Damn it. I could have kicked myself. Do excuse my callousness while your declaration of affection goes in one inattentive ear and out the other.
"No, they don’t." In fact, only a handful had. None of them had meant much to me, except Gray. "I didn’t mean it like that. I just wasn’t sure if... if you..." I bit my lip. "Look, can I be straight with you?"
"Please do."
"Given that you said it... in the heat of the moment, I wasn’t sure if you meant it. So I thought I’d better back off, just in case you didn’t, so... oh no, I didn’t mean back off. Hell, I’m not making a very good job of this, am I?"
"You th
ought maybe I said it because I was drunk?"
"The thought crossed my mind, but I figured the alcohol hadn’t affected you in...uh...other ways..." I paused for a moment to gather my thoughts. "Look, you’re right. Men don’t say that sort of thing easily so I figured it was the drink talking, or the heat of the moment and it was best to leave it be so you didn’t get embarrassed. I’m not the sort of woman to leap on everything a man says and analyze it. So there it is. That’s what I thought. Thunk. I mean think."
He nodded slowly, not saying a word, but his brow wrinkled in the merest hint of a frown and his irritated expression became disappointed. In me. Even hurt.
"Well? Aren’t you going to say something?"
"Yes, you’re right...all of the above are possible explanations. I could have been drunk. I wasn’t, mind you, especially after spending the entire night here, which gave me plenty of time to sober up. But that was a possibility I could see you entertaining."
"Oh."
"And getting carried away. In the heat of the moment and all that. Yeah, I could see that too. I mean, it was pretty hot, wasn’t it?"
"Yeah." I smiled. "Hell yeah."
"So there’s the drink, or getting carried away because I was inside you and just about to come." His emphasis on certain words startled me; he’d sounded unusually cold. Not like himself at all. "But there’s one other reason you seem to have forgotten. One other excuse for me telling a woman I loved her."
"Oh? Really?" I cleared my throat, knowing he wanted me to ask. "Uh, what’s that then?"
He looked me straight in the eye. "I could have meant it, Piper. I could have said I loved you because I meant it."
I looked at the floor in shame, unable to meet his gaze. I’d hurt him. That was all I knew in that moment. I’d hurt Gray.
The kettle clicked off but I made no move to see to the drinks. I wasn’t in the mood for coffee any more and assumed Gray wasn’t either.
Thank God for him; he broke the agonizing silence.
"Yeah. I might have meant it," he muttered. "The fact you’ve gone quiet says a lot. Let’s face it, Piper." As he said my name I forced myself to meet his gaze. "If you appreciated what I’d said, or believed I meant it, or in any way reciprocated those sentiments, you wouldn’t just have taken an eternity to look at me, would you?"
A need for honesty welled up from my stomach and took the place of my embarrassment and nerves. Earlier on that evening I’d promised myself I would do the right thing and I took a deep breath, prepared to give him that honesty he deserved. "You’re right. I shouldn’t have gone silent on you. I was..." Invisible hands still held my head straight up but they couldn’t stop me squeezing my eyes shut momentarily while I gathered my thoughts. "I was uncomfortable with what you’d said. What I’d done to warrant it I don’t know..."
"Piper. You don’t have to do anything to deserve it, it just...it just is. And you don’t have to apologize for not feeling the same," he said in an even tone. "Which I now realize you don’t." He shrugged and gave a thin lipped smile.
"I thought... I believed you..." God, the way he looked at me made me feel guilty and unworthy at the same time.
"You believed I what?"
"That..." Hell, this was going to sound sleazy. Here goes. "I believed you were only after something casual."
"I guess it didn’t work out that way."
"No."
He still leaned against the doorframe, his lips a straight, pale line. He inhaled deeply through his nose while staring at me, concentration etched on his face like a death mask. Eventually he spoke, in a stilted tone. "At least it’s out in the open now."
"Yeah. I should have said something sooner."
He shrugged. "Awkward situation. Neither of us wanted to be the first to blink. I’ll take a rain check on the coffee, Pipes."
So he was choosing to go early. I couldn’t really blame him. And rightly or wrongly, his presence made me uncomfortable. It reminded me of the fact I’d hurt him. Unintentionally, yes, but I’d done it all the same.
He didn’t kiss me on the cheek to say goodbye as was his custom, which told me a lot.
As did his final words to me before he left.
"Thank you for not saying sorry."
~ * ~
When my mobile rang around an hour after Gray’s visit I assumed he’d forgotten something and wondered if the leap in my chest at Leo appearing on the screen was relief at who it wasn’t, or excitement at who it was.
"Hello?"
"Is that the girl who claims to be called Piper?"
I smirked. "Uh...yeah."
"Some hesitation there...?"
"Sorry. I was—"
"In the middle of something?" A quiet laugh. "Are you alone?"
"Of course. It’s a work night. No late night parties for me. Now, what can I do for you?"
Again he laughed. "Now there’s a loaded question. Listen, I was going to suggest..." He dropped his voice a level and I pressed my phone closer to my ear, as if this would help me hear him more clearly. He sounded conspiratorial. Up to no good. "What are you doing this weekend?"
"What have you got in mind?"
"How about we hook up this weekend, maybe on the Saturday? I expect neither of us will be working on the Sunday so we can afford to have a lie in."
I wondered if he’d see shock on my face were he with me at that moment, or a sparkle of anticipation in my eyes. Possibly both.
"Not that I’m jumping to conclusions, of course. I meant ‘hooking up’ in the sense of going somewhere for a drink... maybe...?" Leo’s voice trailed away.
I bit my lip. I’d been grateful to see his name on my mobile screen and not simply because it was him or not Gray; also because he wasn’t Andrew, who’d sent a number of texts. But too, guilt plagued me as if I shouldn’t even be contemplating telling Leo that "Saturday’s good."
"Excellent. We are going to have so much fun together this weekend. I can tell. I could pick you up around eight and take you somewhere. Then again, you don’t know me. You’ll want to meet up in town, won’t you? I don’t like to leave a lady waiting on a street corner or in a pub on her own, though. Hmm. Any suggestions? I’m not too familiar with this city yet. You know the better places to go, I’m guessing?"
I suspected he’d deliberately left the ball in my court to allow me to choose a place in which I would feel comfortable. This, together with his realization I wouldn’t want him picking me up at home and his insistence I not wait anywhere for him on my own, reassured me that underneath his dirty exterior there beat the heart of a gentleman.
Gallagher’s? No. It was an Irish pub for people who weren’t Irish; natives would be insulted at the twiddly diddly bogtrotter atmosphere although they might be fond of the endless supply of Guinness. A bit like covering a pub in tartan, nailing a haggis to the wall and calling it a Scottish bar.
"It depends on what sort of place you like." He didn’t strike me as a spit and sawdust kind of guy. Sure, he’d had his shirtsleeves rolled up on Saturday but they were immaculate shirtsleeves, pressed and gleaming white under Kelleher’s lighting. "A wine bar?"
"A wine bar! I’m not going to one of them puffy places."
"There’s Cole’s I suppose..."
"Oh yeah, that one right next door to Kelleher’s?"
"That’s the one. It gets pretty crowded later on, though, that’s the trouble."
"Oh, I don’t think we need to worry about that. I meant, we could move on somewhere else. Another pub that is," he added and I wondered if that was genuinely what he’d meant. "And, you know, it depends on if eight is okay for you. I usually start early. Get the first round in."
"So it’s true what they say about Irishmen?"
"If you’ve heard something that makes me sound good, then yeah, it is. So eight’s okay for you then, darlin’?"
I loved the endearment, right down to his glottal stopped ‘g’. "Eight’s perfect."
"I don’t want you waiting outside or loitering arou
nd in a bar on your own so don’t get there early like women always do."
"Leo, I’ve been going to bars for years. I’ve been in some rough places."
"Yeah, maybe you have, but not on my watch."
"Not on your—?" My voice cut off, halfway between insulted at his attitude and flattered by the attention.
"Humour me. If you’re spending the evening with me I at least want to make sure you keep yourself safe before we hook up."
"Promises, promises."
"Don’t be early. Aim for five, ten past and I’ll wait outside for you."
"You’re being very solicitous."
"Humor me. It’s the way I was brought up, to show good manners—at least on the outside—but cut me open and you’ll see... Well, I’ll leave that to your imagination. For now, that is. But you go get some sleep and keep your strength up. Saturday, then?"
"At eight."
"I’ll look forward to it."
Six
What the hell am I doing? I asked my reflection but the damn thing came up with no answers. You shouldn’t be here. All the trouble you get in with guys and...
I stood on a street round the corner from Cole’s, contrary to Leo’s wishes, but he wasn’t to know. I pinched my cheeks despite the fact I’d dusted on some blusher, smoothed down my eyebrows and double checked my appearance as best I could in the compact mirror for the umpteenth time.
Well, you’ll just have to do. I snapped the mirror shut and put it back in my bag.
My mobile phone told me I was bang on time for my date.
Bracing myself against the last minute or two of my walk, the thought of which filled me with trepidation, I pulled my short black jacket more tightly around me. Clearly a fashion item rather than made for convenience or comfort, its three quarter length sleeves and three huge inch-diameter buttons undid any good done by its woollen thickness.
But it looked good and that was the main thing.
Leo wasn’t a complete stranger. Okay, nearly so, but we’d met before, had a bit of banter. And we were meeting in a public place. So my nervousness mystified me. Perhaps it was the thought of what it might all lead to—probably would lead to.
Long Time Coming Page 5