by Laney Powell
That made sense to my head. Why it wouldn’t settle into my heart was beyond me. It was just going to have to. Because I wasn’t going to relive all the family drama and make my life miserable. At least I didn’t have kids to drag through it. The problem was, for the first time in my life I almost felt sympathy for my mom. This Declan thing threatened to be a big fat hairy drama deal. Was this what it was like for her?
Then I shook my head. Our situations weren’t the same. Which made all her shit worse. She had my dad and us kids to think about. And she hadn’t.
I ordered an obscene breakfast from room service, watching the gardens as I finished off the strawberries I’d had sent along with it. Then I packed all my stuff, shoving the silver sparkly dress into the bottom of the dirty clothing bag. I didn’t want to see it, and it made it tougher for my heart to accept the truth.
I never ran from the truth. It didn’t do anyone any good. But that didn’t mean I had to rub my own nose in it. I was well aware of the truth.
Getting ready for the interview took on a new level of pressure. I wasn’t a big name reporter or anything; this interview had come at the good will of Janie. But I wanted to do a good job and impress both my editor and Janie. So I made sure everything about me looked perfect—knee high black boots, dark jeans, a black tee shirt, and my oversized cardigan. A long silver necklace and dangly earrings completed the look. Trendy casual.
Janie had arranged for the interview to be here, in one of the conference rooms. So as I walked down, I went over the details of the band, and patted at my notebook in my bag. I was as ready as I was ever going to me.
Janie answered when I knocked on the door, and she gave me a big hug. “Jyn! I’m really glad you were available for this,” she said. “And that I get to see you just a wee bit more.”
I laughed. “I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
Her business mode switched in. “You remember the guys from last night?”
At my nod, she continued. “Then let’s get to it. They’re all yours for the next half-hour.”
There was no table in the room, but a couch and a number of chairs. All the band members sat on the couch and in the easy chairs in a sort of half-circle. Janie sat off to the side, and there was a small loveseat across from them, obviously for the press person interviewing them. I sat down and ran one hand through my hair as I crossed my legs. Casual. I needed to be casual. My heart felt like it was pounding out of my chest. I’d only glanced at Declan once, and he was staring a hole through me.
You know, he needed to ease it back a little.
Seamus, one of the brothers who’d started the band, glanced between Declan and me, but didn’t say anything.
“So what led you to this? Did you start in a garage? I looked at your bios. There’s not a lot about your beginnings.” I put on a smile. I liked to ask the things that weren’t in the bios. And I had to keep it cool. I could feel sweat breaking out all over me. I didn’t want my face to get all red and splotchy. Then it would be obvious to all that something was wrong with me.
And other than an amazing shag with a big liar, there was nothing wrong. Not one thing. I shifted in my chair, determined not to look at him.
Sean laughed. “We couldn’t stand each other growing up. But after we got out of school, he,” he jerked his thumb at Seamus, “Came in one night, sighed, and said, ‘You might as well come to practice with me. You’re no worse than the wanker who’s been on guitar.”
All the guys laughed. They’d apparently heard this story.
“What about the rest of you who don’t have the in of being related?”
They launched into how they’d all met. I’d read some of this, but I liked to hear it for myself. I made notes of things that weren’t in the bio, nothing major or scandalous, avoiding Declan’s gaze until he spoke. Which wasn’t often.
“Yeah, this one,” Liam said, smiling at Declan, “He was the hardest to pull in. He was happy just playing in pubs and the like.”
Declan finally smiled, releasing me from his laser gaze. “Well, I was. But you lot aren’t bad.”
The rest of the guys and Janie laughed.
“High praise,” said Seamus.
“So what’s with the feud with Conor Byrne?”
They all stopped smiling. Janie looked at them with a ‘I’m not getting you out of this,’ look.
Declan spoke. “Two different styles, and two different ways of looking at the business. It’s been blown way out of proportion. It’s nowhere near the big deal all you press think it is.” He crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair and looking at me with one eyebrow raised.
I let my own brows go up in slight disbelief. Polite disbelief, if you will. “That’s a good point, but we press can only go with the information we’re told,” I said. “If we’re given bad information, or worse, no information at all, it makes things worse for the person trying to hid the info when it all comes out.”
Oh, shit. That was a little pointed. OK, a lot pointed.
“That’s true, but these things are easily cleared up. You know, if the press is willing to listen,” Declan added with emphasis.
Janie was watching us with more than normal interest.
“That’s true,” I smiled brightly at Declan. “It’s a shame it’s so hard to get the truth out here. It’s your chance now. You’re going on the record with the idea that there’s no feud?”
Declan shook his head. “There’s a difference of opinion. No feud.”
I glanced at each of the band members, and they all nodded. “Well, then it’s on to more personal questions about all of you,” I said.
They all laughed. Even Declan smiled.
The last ten minutes were taken up with talk of what was next. Janie gave me a nod, and I stood up. “Thanks for seeing me today. I loved the concert, and I hope you all have a great rest of the year.”
I shook hands with everyone and when it came to Declan, he held my hand longer than anyone else. I pulled my hand away and turned my back to him.
Janie threaded her arm in mine as she walked me to the door. “Let’s talk later this week.”
I could tell she was dying to ask me what the hell was going on, and I could only nod. She hugged me, and we said goodbye.
Then I walked out the door.
Declan
I watched the door shut behind her. She’d walked out on me again, and I didn’t do a damn thing to stop her. You could have cut the tension between us with a knife. Janie had noticed as had Seamus.
Which meant I was in for it.
To my surprise, however, Janie said, “Thank you for doing that one. She’s a personal friend, based in the States, and it’s not a local paper. But she’ll do a good write up for you.”
Sean shrugged. “She was nice. No worries, Janie.”
“What’s next?” asked Fergus.
“We have two more and then we’re done,” Janie said, looking at a sheet of paper on the table in front of her.
“Excellent,” Liam said, stretching his arms over his head.
Seamus got up and went over the table the staff had provided that had snacks and coffee, tea, and water. I joined him because my mouth was dry after having to try to keep it cool with Jyn. I couldn’t stop staring at her as she sat across from me. She looked fabulous, her hair down and her whole demeanor casual.
But she was angry at me, and it came out in the end. I hoped no one else other than Seamus had noticed. Maybe I’d get lucky and he wouldn’t say anything.
“So what’s up with you and that Jyn?” He asked, not looking at me as he stirred his tea.
I sighed.
“Fucked it up already, did you?” He looked at me then.
“Yeah, I think I did.”
“You like her?”
I nodded. “I do. And it’s stupid, because I don’t even know her. But you know when you meet somebody and you just know about them?”
He didn’t answer right away, then nodded. “I do. The question
is, what are you going to do? And does it matter? She’s American.”
“I don’t know if it matters—but I don’t want to just let things go, not find out,” I said, scrubbing my face and hair with one hand.
“Then you’d better get on it,” Seamus smiled, clapping me on the shoulder. He walked back to the couch and sat down.
I stood, staring at the wall a bit longer. I was being honest—I had no idea if this was some kind of thing. It felt like it could be—but I didn’t know. What was true was that I didn’t want to let her walk away again.
I’d already watched it twice. There wasn’t going to be a third time, I decided. Not this time.
A knock on the door made Janie shoot out of her chair. “All right, break time is over. Let’s get this going.” She opened the door, and one of the reporters of a large music magazine came in.
Show time.
It was almost over, but until then, I was Declan McManus, a member of Blackthorn.
Two hours later, Janie declared us done for the day. I lingered as the other guys filed out. “When is your friend Jyn leaving tomorrow?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because we had a misunderstanding. Before she goes back to America, I’d like to clear things up on my end.”
Janie gave me a searching look. “The only reason I’m telling you is because I know you’re not a creep. But if you hurt my friend, I will have your ass,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Understood.”
“She leaves on a flight at ten-thirty out of Dublin tomorrow morning.”
“Thanks, Janie,” I kissed her cheek and grinned at her, feeling better for the first time today.
“You’d better tell me everything,” she warned as I practically ran from the room.
“I will,” I called over my shoulder. I headed for Jyn’s room. I’d gotten it out of the concierge, saying she’d left something in my room.
As my hand knocked on the door, my heart was in my throat. What would I say? The truth. Nothing more. No excuses. She was right. I had omitted who I was, and that wasn’t cool.
No one came to the door.
I knocked again, bouncing on the balls of my feet with impatience and nerves. No answer, again.
“Jyn?” I called, not wanting to look like a fool or be told off for standing here yelling at the door. “Jyn? It’s me, Declan. Can I speak with you? Please?”
No answer still.
I knock once more. As I stand there, my heart is sinking. Is she ignoring me?
After the silence becomes nearly unbearable, I go back to my own room. There’s stationary in the desk, and I sit down and try to write something. Maybe I can slide it under her door. She doesn’t leave until tomorrow.
Two hours later, there is a pile of crumpled paper in the waste basket, and I’m no closer to any kind of solution. On the surface, this doesn’t seem like a big deal. But I didn’t tell her who I was when she told me why she was here. And if I were her, I’d be pissed, too. I’d just write the person off who did this as not worth the trouble.
It’s not like we knew each other well, or had some major investment. But I liked her, and I wanted to get to know her better. There was something, a spark, or connection—it made me feel good to be with her, and not just because we got on in bed in a most spectacular fashion.
I wanted more. I wanted to see if it could be more. I’d never felt a connection to anyone else like I had with her.
Finally I gave up and went to bed. I’d need to try to speak with her again tomorrow. If she told me to piss off, at least I tried.
The next morning, I rolled over and looked at the clock. “Oh, shit!” I scrambled out of bed and reached for my clothes. It was nearly eight, and her flight was at ten. I didn’t have a lot of time.
Thankfully, Janie had a car service on standby and I threw myself in. “The airport, man. As fast as you can.”
He nodded and took off. I was glad to see that the driver understood ‘as fast as you can’. He dropped me off, and I raced to the boards listing the departures. Janie had told me she was flying Aer Lingus back to Chicago, so I checked. Then I ran for security.
Which was a wall of people when I got there.
Holy Mary Mother of God. How in the name of Hell was I going to find her?
Not to mention, there were people starting to notice me.
There had to be a better way—I looked around and saw a security stand. The female guard looked bored. I hurried to her.
“Excuse me, miss?”
She looked up, then she did a double take, and her mouth fell open. “You’re Declan McManus!”
I gave her a brilliant smile. “I am indeed, and I am in desperate need of your help.”
Her eyes fluttered. “You are?”
“Do you have a microphone system there?” I nodded down at her stand.
“Yes, but—"
“Could I trouble you to page a passenger?”
“That’s not really—”
“Look, this is a matter of the heart. I can’t let this woman go back to America without telling her how I feel,” I said, deciding that honesty was the best policy. “And there are front row seats for you and your mate at our next show.”
“What do you want me to say?” she asked.
A moment later, she spoke into the microphone. “Paging Aer Lingus passenger Jyn Lyle, Aer Lingus passenger Jyn Lyle. You are needed at the security podium outside the security checkpoint. Please come to the security podium immediately.”
Then we waited.
If she was already through security, this was not going to work. But I had to start here.
The guard was watching the crowds, and she nudged me. “Look, there’s someone coming back through the line over there,” she pointed to indicate where people were moving.
It was Jyn.
She walked back out of the line, her face creased with worry. She looked tired, and it made me feel like a shit that I might have contributed to that.
I turned around. I didn’t want her to see me right away.
“I’m Jyn Lyle. Is there some sort of problem?” She sounded irritated.
“Well, miss, your presence was needed,” the guard said.
I turned to face her. “Yes, it was.”
Jyn’s frown deepened. “This is completely unnecessary.”
“No, it’s not. I tried to come and see you last night, but you didn’t answer the door.”
Her expression didn’t change. “I wasn’t there. I wouldn’t have ignored you. I face things.”
“Great,” I said. “Let’s face them now.”
“There’s nothing to face, Declan. We had a nice time, and I’m going home.” She began to move away.
“Wait, please.”
Something in my voice must have caught her attention because she stopped.
“I was an ass. I know this. I should have told you who I was. But… “ I stopped, aware of the guard and a growing interested crowd. Then I decided, fuck it. I hated the lack of privacy, but this was my one chance. “I have never been comfortable with how much we’re exposed to the public. It’s part of the gig, but it’s not comfortable. My last girlfriend, she was too comfortable with it, and it caused problems. It felt amazing to meet someone who didn’t know who I was, and was interested in just me, just Declan. I didn’t want to spoil that. I wanted to tell you, and then I… “
“Chickened out?” Jyn asked. Her expression hadn’t changed.
But she was still here, still in front of me.
I nodded. “Yes. I completely fell down on being honest, and any sort of brave. I figured I’d be able to explain it away, and then I saw you at the after party, and realized I’d screwed it up. And I didn’t know how to fix it. This may be awkward as ass, but now I’m trying.”
“What is it you want, Declan?”
“You,” I said, not mincing words. “I don’t know what will happen. I’ve never felt the kind of connection we had with anyone else. I don’t know wher
e it will go, or what will happen, but I want to see. I don’t want to lose the opportunity because I was a weaselly dumb ass. Please stay, Jyn. Please don’t go. Let’s spend some time together.”
“No more lies,” her voice was stern.
“None. I promise.”
She stared at me so long, I could feel sweat on the back of my neck. God, was she going to tell me to piss off? But I didn’t say anything.
“Yes,” she said.
The surrounding crowd cheered.
I walked to her, cupping her face in my hands. “Please tell me I can kiss you,” I whispered.
“It’s going to be all over the internet,” she whispered back.
“I don’t care,” I said, and I pulled her to me, kissing her fiercely.
The sense of rightness washed over me like a wave. This was right. She was right. We were right. Nothing else mattered.
Jyn
I walked outside into the gardens at Castle Glenkerry. Declan had reserved a room for us on our one-year anniversary. I loved these gardens—we’d come back to them several times over the past year.
I stayed with him for almost a month after he made a complete scene in the airport. That first week, we spent a lot of time in bed. He was very open and into trying all sorts of things, so the night usually found one or the other of us tied to a bedpost. It was fucking glorious. Glorious fucking, too, I thought with a snicker.
I went with him to all his concert dates, and the moment the shows were over, we were back at the hotel, or his place, or wherever. While he worked, so did I. For the paper, for my classes.
At first, the band was wondering what had happened. But gradually, Declan and I came up for air, and they realized this was more than a groupie gone wild situation.
And during that time, we talked. We talked all the time, in bed, in the bathtub, over dinner—we never seemed to run out of things to say.
I told him about my mom, and for the first time in years, I’d cried. I cried when I told him about how hurt I was, and how I’d protected myself ever since. And how he’d pierced my heart and made me break all my rules.