by Liz Gavin
He almost ran out of the bar because he needed a breather. Instead of going to the kitchen, Declan went to the employees’ restroom and splashed some cold water in his burning face. There was another part of his anatomy that was also burning like hell, but there was nothing he could do about it. He studied his reflection in the mirror, unable to understand what was wrong with him. He wasn’t a simpleton, a naïve country boy. He had met beautiful women before Keira. Jesus! He had had gorgeous women. Running his fingers through his short dark hair and taking deep breaths, Declan regained control over his treacherous body. Then, he went to the kitchen, got her food and returned to the bar.
“Here you go, miss. Enjoy,” he said in the most professional tone he managed to muster.
“Thank you,” Keira was bewildered by the sudden radical change in his attitude.
Declan read the confusion, and even a little hurt, in her blue eyes but ignored them. There was no point in doing anything other than that. It was just his luck to finally meet a girl who made him feel alive again, only to find out she was leaving town the following day.
Keira finished her meal in a confused state of mind, made worse by the alcohol she had drunk earlier. The food was excellent but she paid little attention to it, as she tried to understand what she had done wrong. Replaying the conversation in her mind, she concluded she hadn’t done anything wrong.
You must have read the signs wrong. He was just being nice and friendly, like most Irish people are, her annoying inner self pointed out to her. Did you seriously think a guy like Declan was interested in a girl like you? Get over yourself, Keira!
She forced the last mouthful down her throat with a sip of water. The drunken fog had lifted, allowing her to think straight. As depressing as it sounded, her inner self was right. What could he possibly see in her? She wasn’t stunning like Megan. She was the smart one, not the pretty one in the family. At least, that was how she had felt her entire life.
Declan remained safely behind the counter, where he felt more in control of his own reactions, watching Keira closely. He noticed she had leaned forward, hunching her shoulders. He also saw she ate slowly and had some difficulty swallowing the last couple of mouthfuls. His conscience scolded him as he observed her posture. Knowing he was responsible for her withdrawal, made him feel like a big asshole. He shouldn’t have gone bi-polar on her. He should have managed his emotions better, in the first place. It wasn’t her fault if he had had a shitty love life. She hadn’t ripped his heart to pieces, had she? And it was absolutely not her fault if he couldn’t keep his damn lustful body in check, right?
That train of thought didn’t help Declan calm down because it caused a new rush of graphic scenes to invade his mind. For a while, he let himself indulge in the possibilities. If Keira were to stay, he would find a way to know her better.
I’d love to spend hours getting to know her - every little inch of her.
He closed his eyes imagining her small, perfect body under his, feeling her silken skin under his fingertips. He wanted to kiss her until they were both breathless and try all his moves to discover her secret spots, what made her tick, and moan, and shout his name.
“Hey, Declan!” her clear voice yanked him from the daydream. He looked at her, still in a daze, and she smiled. “Can you bring me the check, please?”
He was mortified to notice there was a huge bulge in his pants, which prevented him from going to the table without making a bigger fool of himself than he had already made. So, he pretended to study some papers on the counter.
“What is your room number, miss?”
“It’s 305.”
“I’ll add the check to your room bill.”
“Don’t I have to sign it?”
“That’s not necessary,” he said to her, then, added to himself. I’ll have to sign it myself because there’s no way in hell I can stand up right now, you little bewitching thing.
Keira felt a pang in her chest at the cold treatment she thought he was giving her. So, she gathered up the shreds of her pride and stood up to leave. At the doorway, she stopped and looked over her shoulder. He was staring at her with an expression she didn’t understand. He looked in pain. That couldn’t be right, right?
“Goodbye, Declan,” she managed to say in a thin voice.
“Goodbye, Keira,” he replied, using her name for the first time. It sounded so different in his accent she felt like throwing caution to the wind and asking him out. She turned around and went to her room instead.
Watching television turned out to be impossible for Keira because the news programs focused mainly on Bono’s accident and the canceled concerts. Besides, the lively sounds coming in through the windows from the Temple Bar pubs made it hard to concentrate on the small screen. She gave up pretending to pay attention to it, changed into a pair of jeans and a clean T-shirt, and went out, bound to enjoy her last night in Dublin.
She left the hotel through the backdoor and found herself smack-dab in the middle of the bustling Temple Bar scene. There were hundreds of people all around and countless pubs to choose from, so she decided to walk around and find the one more appealing to her.
She walked further down the road until a crowd gathered around a bright red building on a corner called her attention. There was a large window through which she could see a band performing on a small stage. She stood across the street, watching the people singing along with the band, until she noticed someone inside the pub was waving at her. She recognized the redheaded Brazilian she had met at the ticket line. Her two friends were with her and they were inviting Keira to join them.
Oh, what the heck? I’ll go in and get drunk. Maybe then I’ll forget about stupid concerts and even dumber –but drop-dead-gorgeous - bartenders, she decided, as she tried to find a way through the crowd.
Carla, her new Brazilian friend, met her at the door, “Hey, Keira, right? Are you by yourself? No U2 fan should be alone tonight. It’s not safe,” she slurred a little but Keira got her point.
“Damn right! I want to get as drunk as I possibly can without passing out on the street.” Keira agreed as she followed Carla to the table.
“Hey, you’ve made it!” Doni, who was obviously very drunk, didn’t seem to know who his friend Carla was anymore.
“I’ve been here the whole night, sweetie. Come on! You can’t be that drunk,” she laughed and looked at her other friend. “Can he?”
“Yes, he can and he is,” Fábio said. He turned to Keira and smiled. “Sorry.”
“No worries. You seem sober,” she stated the obvious with a playful smile.
“I’m driving,” he shrugged. “Can I get you anything? I’m going to the bar.”
“Another pint!” Carla asked showing her empty glass of Guinness.
“Me, too,” Doni joined her.
“Yes and no,” Fábio pointed at each friend as he answered. “Would you like one, too, Keira?”
She hesitated for a fleeting second then nodded in agreement as he pulled a chair for her.
“Sit down. I’ll be right back,” he said and disappeared in the middle of the crowd surrounding the bar counter.
“This place is awesome, isn’t it?” Carla asked her.
“Yes, it is. How long have you guys been here tonight?”
“Oh, we’ve just got here,” Doni offered.
She looked at him in surprise but turned around when she heard Carla’s laugh.
“Don’t mind him. He’s lost track of time. We’ve been here a while. Enough for him to get that wasted, anyway.”
They all laughed and told Fábio the joke when he joined them with a fresh round of pints for Carla and Keira. He brought water for Doni.
“Wow, that was fast. I thought it would take you forever, with all those thirsty people hanging around the bar,” Keira observed.
“A little Brazilian charm does wonders,” he winked at her and nodded towards the counter.
She got his meaning when she saw a beautiful bar maid stretching he
r neck to look at their table over the customers’ heads.
“I see,” she laughed and raised her glass to her new friends. “Sláinte mhaith!”
“Sláinte!” they answered before drinking their smooth and strong black beer.
Keira was surprised at how at ease she felt around them. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t be comfortable in that kind of situation but they were very friendly. The pints of beer that kept coming to the table certainly helped her relax. After a couple of hours, she was laughing at their jokes and funny stories until her jaw hurt. They had many stories to tell. They had traveled around the world, met the strangest people, and seen the most amazing places. She had a great time with them, which definitely took her mind off the depressing thoughts that had plagued her earlier. But, eventually, it was time to go.
“Sorry, Keira, but we’ve got to go. We need to get back to our hotel, near Croke Park, of all places,” Carla rolled her eyes and made a funny face. “We have a long day tomorrow.”
“That’s fine, guys. I’ve got to go, too,” she replied and they left the pub.
Fábio was the only one who could walk straight. They made a hilarious picture and laughed hard at that.
“Are you sure you can get these two to their hotel rooms?” Keira asked him.
“Don’t worry. I’ve done that before,” he guaranteed.
“As have I, mister!” Carla slurred, in feigned annoyance, pointing a shaky finger at him, which he grabbed and kissed.
“Yeah, right! Whatever,” he laughed.
“Bye, friend,” Doni waved in her general direction and she waved back.
“Goodbye, Keira. Remember to have fun,” Carla said blowing a kiss.
“Goodbye, Carla,” Keira laughed and blew her another.
Fábio shook his head at his two drunken friends and stretched his hand out to greet her, “Goodbye, Keira. Are you sure you can walk back to the hotel? We can drop you off there.”
“Thank you, I am fine. Walking will help clear my head. You drive safely now,” she waved at them and turned towards the Clarence, which wasn’t far, but her legs didn’t obey her and her feet seemed to drag.
After what felt like an eternity, the yellow backdoor of the hotel appeared in front of her and she climbed the few steps to the glass doors. She did so a bit too fast and felt dizzy. When she entered the hotel, Keira leaned against the wall, while the room spun around her, and she promised herself never to get drunk like that again.
CHAPTER 2
Declan got out of the bar and stopped dead when he saw Keira, looking pale and about to faint, leaning against the wall. In two long strides, he was beside her, gathering her in his arms to avoid her collapsing to the floor, but he startled her.
“What are you doing?” she shouted, looking angrily at him.
He smelled alcohol in her breath and knew she was as drunk as she could be. He thought she might fall if he let go of her, but her indignant expression left him no other choice.
“I’m sorry. I thought you were going to faint,” he apologized and released her.
Her body swayed, but she looked at him over her glasses and stuck her nose in the air.
“I am perfectly fine, sir. Thank you very much,” she stated, trying not to look too drunk, despite the fact that she needed to put a hand on the wall to steady herself, when she had lost his support. That gesture dampened her remark a bit but she pretended it didn’t happen and just stared back at him with a stern expression.
He wanted to laugh at her expression, kiss her pouting lips and scoop her up in his arms, and never let her go. All at once. But he did none of those things. He just nodded at her.
“Are you sure? You look a tad tipsy,” he offered her the understatement of the year, because he knew that, in her drunken stare, she wouldn’t get his sarcasm.
“I told you I’m fine. In fact, I’ll just go inside and have a drink,” she let go of the wall and stepped towards the bar.
“Maybe that’s not a good idea. The pub is full. You’d have to stand up at the counter,” he told her as he discreetly held her arm when she stumbled.
“I don’t mind it. That’s how most people drink, isn’t it?” she replied and managed to enter the bar.
In fact, it wasn’t that crowded and there were two or three empty stools. She chose one and frowned at him as she plopped herself down on it.
“I’d say somebody doesn’t want to work tonight, huh?” she raised an eyebrow at him.
Declan rolled his eyes and went back behind the counter. His two colleagues looked at him but he just shrugged and muttered under his breath. “It’s a long story.”
They smiled and gladly put him in charge of the drunken American.
“We’ll take care of everything. You take care of her. I think you’ll have your hands full, anyway,” the tall red-haired woman said, laughing.
“You got that right, Màire. He already seems to be in trouble. She doesn’t look too happy with him, does she?” the dark-haired older man replied.
“Oh, fuck off, Harry. You’re jealous, that’s all,” Declan laughed and pushed the man playfully.
Keira watched their exchange but got so caught up in their Irish accent that she lost half of their meaning. She laughed because everything seemed amusing.
“A pint of Guinness,” she ordered when Declan turned to her.
“Maybe you should drink some water, first.”
“You should mind your own business and pour the ale, sir” she answered, smacking her hand on the counter for emphasis.
“It’s actually a stout,” he replied as he filled a glass with the black beer.
“What’s the difference?” she asked.
“If you have to ask, you shouldn’t be drinking it,” he was losing his good mood and temper fast. Declan took a deep breath to calm himself down. “I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to be rude. You are right. It’s none of my business what you do with yourself. I apologize.”
Keira felt suddenly sad at the hurt in his voice. Maybe she was too drunk. Maybe she was going mad but she didn’t want Declan to be angry at her.
“Please, Declan, don’t apologize. I’m the spoiled brat here. I should have noticed you were just looking out for me. I’m sorry,” she reached over the counter and grabbed his hand. But the sudden charge of electricity that ran from his hand through her arm and down her body was so intense she practically jumped back and let go of it.
He looked at her in surprise. He too had felt it and was astonished by their reactions to such a simple touch. He told himself not to think too hard about it. He shouldn’t think of what might happen if he touched her more intimately. He needed to remember what had happened earlier that day.
But it was too late. He had already imagined it as he leaned over the counter and trapped her cool hand between his warm ones. He looked her in the eyes and saw conflicting emotions in their blue depths – desire, surprise, curiosity, and insecurity. The last one was the strongest and the one he couldn’t understand - why a beautiful, intelligent young woman, such as Keira was, would harbor so much self-doubt.
Keira stared back into his eyes and went totally speechless. His already dark green gaze seemed darker and more dangerous. She felt like walking into an enchanted forest. His eyes were alluring and frightening at the same time. She wanted to get lost in them but was terrified of the possibility. His stare seemed to connect to something buried deep inside her, some basic instinct, or primal feeling, she didn’t know she had. She felt her body tingle in the strangest places as that feeling raised its head and threatened to smother any rational thoughts the beer had left intact. There weren’t many.
She was alone in a foreign country, holding a stranger’s hand, looking into his eyes and dreaming of all the dirty things she’d like to do to him, with him, or let him do to her. She must be out of her mind. Those thoughts made the butterflies somersault in her stomach and she felt sick.
Declan noticed her discomfort and let go of her hand.
“T
ell me why you wanted to get drunk tonight, Keira. I’m a bartender, remember. It’s my job to listen to the customers,” he winked at her.
“Is that right?” she laughed and thanked him for breaking that dangerous spell she had been under since he had taken her hand in his. “Well, let me see. Where should I start telling you about my tribulations?”
Later, Keira would blame the beer for having opened up her heart so completely to Declan that night. The truth was, though, she felt comfortable talking to him like she had never felt with another man. She told him about her grandfather and her childhood dream of visiting Ireland. She talked about her hardworking days and how she had saved money for the trip. She found it harder to convey her expectations about the concert and the disappointment at its cancelation. That kind of feeling could only be understood by another fan. Preferably, one who had gone through something similar. Normal people didn’t get it.
“But your trip is only beginning, isn’t it? You still have a couple of weeks ahead of you to enjoy yourself,” Declan said. He was definitely a normal person.
“You don’t understand it,” she was feeling very sorry for herself, like any other drunkard. Her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve always wanted to watch a U2 concert in Dublin. Now, I can’t do that. I won’t watch a U2 concert in their hometown,” she whined and sniffed.
“Please, don’t cry. I don’t know what to do around crying women,” Declan begged her.
It was useless. Once the flood gates had opened there was no turning back. She crossed her arms on the counter, rested her forehead on them, and cried like a little girl. He looked at Màire and Harry in panic. They shrugged back at him.
“What do I do?’ he mouthed.
A few customers were looking at them as her sobs grew louder.
“Take her upstairs,” Màire mouthed and gestured in reply.
He rolled his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Come, come, Keira. I know you like the guys, but missing one little concert doesn’t seem that bad,” he whispered, softly in her ear.