“I’m sorry, I really am.”
“You hurt me, too.”
“I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Don’t do it again,” she says in a whisper, her eyes flooded with tears.
“I won’t. I promise.” Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pull her close and press my face into her neck. When she puts her arms around me in return, I close my eyes and breathe deeply. “I do have to confess something more, though.”
She pulls away to look at me, her face a mask of worry all over again.
“It’s the breakfast you made me. I can’t stomach it.”
We both look at the plate gone cold on the kitchen island. The egg yolk has congealed into something truly repulsive.
“I don’t think even Roscoe would eat it,” she says.
I look at her and laugh. And when she smiles at me, I feel like I’ve won a prize—something wondrous that I haven’t earned. I suppose that’s what my relationship with her is. In any event, I’m going to hang on to her for dear life.
31
Danny Boy
* * *
When I cancel plans with Conor for a motorbike ride because of my ankle, he’s annoyed but comes round to see me anyway.
“She’s not here,” I tell him at the door as his eyes move past me and into the foyer.
“Good,” he replies. Leaning down, he gives Roscoe a pat before letting himself in.
I’ve gotten skilled on the crutches and keep pace with him as he goes straight into the Man Cave and stands by the snooker table. As usual, his very presence brings out a sense of inadequacy in me. His absolute confidence, comfort in his own skin, good looks, and easy style would be envied by most. And I’m no different, despite how I give him hell on all manner of things.
“So? What’s the story with the ankle, then?” he asks, a gleam in his eye.
It only now dawns on me that this could be the thing to lose Shay his bet. If Quinn knows I pulled one of my stunts, then he won’t have to pay up with a bikini carwash. And I desperately want to see him forced to follow through on it.
“Eh, I just tripped over my own feet, really,” I say.
He watches me for a moment, no doubt focusing on the way I’m picking at my cuticles.
“Don’t lie to me, Danny Boy.”
“I’m not. It was just a silly accident.” I don’t let him have a second to challenge me further. “How’s Felicity? And the kids?”
“They’re all fine. But, I—”
“What about all of us getting together? Amelia included?”
Though I know he can see I’m trying to distract him, he has no choice but to get into a new topic now.
“That’s probably too soon. You two are really together, then?”
“Yeah, I told you.”
“And how is it?”
“You mean, how’s the sex? It’s amaz—”
“No, you idiot. I don’t want to get anywhere close to knowing about that,” he says. “I’m just wondering if you get on okay, what with the fact that she knows your fucked up self so well.”
I laugh. “Yeah, we get on grand. Better than that. She’s really the perfect match for me.”
“Better than Julia, then, I suppose?”
“Bloody hell. Did you come here to interrogate me? Nothing better to do?”
He laughs. “I was ready to go for a motorbike ride with my mate, but turns out he mysteriously injured himself.”
“Fuck off, already.”
“I’ll find out, you know. I’m not one to let something like this slide. Especially not when I have a vested interest.”
I ignore his taunt and hop on one foot to the bar. “Do you want a drink?”
“I’ll take a beer,” he says, letting me off the hook for the moment.
I grab a bottle of Heineken from the mini-fridge, open it, and hand it over.
He takes it and raises his eyebrows. “Nothing for you?”
“Nah, I’m taking a break from drinking.”
With a tsk, he shakes his head. “More evidence, right there, Danny Boy, that you did something stupid to earn that sprained ankle.”
I scramble to think of some other way to explain why I’m suddenly abstaining from alcohol. “Nah, Amelia just thinks it’ll be good for both of us to have our heads on straight for a bit.”
He nods skeptically before saying, “Gavin did say she’d been a bit emotional when you were over to dinner.”
“Emotional? What does that mean?”
“Eh, guess it was something to do with when she was talking with Sophie.”
I have no idea what he’s getting at. But I don’t like the idea that they’ve been using Amelia as good craic. “Maybe you fellas can keep your gossiping to yourselves, yeah? I don’t want that bullshit getting back to Amelia. She’s super sensitive to all this, man. I’m telling you, she’s still beating herself up over it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“Well, fuck’s sake. I’ll have a chat with Felicity and see if she’ll think about working it out with her, yeah?”
“You’d do that?”
“Sure.”
“Wait a second. You’re not just trying to get out of paying what you owe for losing that bet to Shay, are you?”
He smiles. “Nah, I don’t have any motives other than wanting us all to get past this thing and be on good terms.”
“Oh. Well, that’s grand.”
“Besides, I already know I won that bet.”
“You know no such thing.”
“Oh, but I do. Yep, I’d say I clutched that one right out of the jaws of defeat just in the nick of time, thanks very much.”
He’s almost giddy with the idea that he has one over on me. But I’m not particularly keen for Shay to know what I got up to the other night. It would only stress him out, thinking the minute he was no longer supervising me I lost all control.
“Come on, man,” I moan. “I don’t need to disappoint Shay. Not again.”
“What’s one more time in the grand scheme of things, Danny Boy?” he asks with a laugh.
“Con, I’m asking a favor. Please.”
Leveling his gaze upon me, he lets me linger in limbo for what feels like ages. Finally, he sighs.
“You’re a lucky bastard, you know that? All right, I won’t let on I know. That is, if you admit to me that the ankle is because of some stupid stunt you should have known better than to do. A real Danny Boy spectacular, right?”
I don’t hesitate to give him what he wants. “Yes, it was. I got what I deserved for making some shite decisions.”
He claps me on the back. “We’ve all been there.”
“So, you’re actually going to do the bikini carwash thing?”
“Fuck no.”
“What do you mean? A bet’s a bet.”
“It is. But your brother would never really call that one in. He just likes the idea of it.”
“You wanker. Had me thinking I was really about to cost Shay his due.”
“It’s all in good fun.”
When I scowl at him, he adds, “And I wouldn’t have collected on him if I’d won, either.”
“Wait, what was the payout in that case?”
He gives me a meaningful look as if that will tell me the answer. Of course, I don’t know what it is I’m supposed to know.
“What?” I ask, exasperated.
Hesitating, he finally says, “That you’d never be allowed into our group. Not for tours, not for studio time, not for all the other stuff we do as an extended family of sorts.”
“Oh.” Thinking of that alternate reality makes me go cold. Because it reminds me of all I still have to lose if I don’t keep straight.
“But,” he says, “you know we quickly moved past all that. Right, Danny Boy?”
I lock eyes with him, trying to fight against the negativity that is threatening to take over and make me question his assurances—and my own sense of what is real.
“Right, man? You gotta know that. Y
ou gotta know that I let go of a whole lot of legitimate shite. And when I did, that was it. No turning back since then.”
I force myself to think of the times he and I have had, the mutual slagging and the laughs that come with it, the motorbike rides, the time he kept Jules from fucking with me at the studio, and I realize he’s right. I’d be an idiot to let my mind run away with some other version. For once, I’m not going to let that happen.
“Yeah, I know. And I appreciate that, Con. I do.”
He nods and then grabs one of the balls from the snooker table, tossing it in the air and deftly catching it. “Up for a game or is that ankle gonna hold you back?”
“The ankle is no problem. In fact, I could beat you one-handed if need be.”
Laughing, he says, “Save that one hand for beating yourself off.”
I make the universal sign for jacking off with my fist and add a wet suction sound using my tongue in my cheek. He rolls his eyes but can’t stop a small smile. And just like that, we’re back on our old terms of friendship and I breathe easy again.
32
Amelia
* * *
I’m nervous and there’s no hiding it from Moira. She’s watching me out of the corner of her eye, an amused smile on her face as she works away at the dinner she’s making. Meanwhile, I’m distractedly sorting Legos with Max, anxious for Daniel to arrive.
I’ve avoided this moment for as long as possible. Daniel and I have been together here in Dublin for almost a month and Moira has insisted that I stop coming up with excuses to keep us all from getting together, and so now we’re doing dinner at her house.
It’s not that I’m embarrassed for her to meet Daniel, it’s just that he can be so unpredictable. Spending time with his friends is one thing, they all know him for who he is. But he is sort of an . . . acquired taste to those who don’t know him, so I haven’t yet introduced him to my friends. Instead, I’ve seen them a few times on my own and he hasn’t seemed to mind not coming along.
He and I haven’t been spending a lot of time with his friends, either. That dinner with Gavin and Sophie was a one-off. He went on his own to see Martin once or twice. And he’s met up with Conor a few times. But other than that, we’ve spent the last few weeks since the night when he sprained his ankle in a fairly low-key way. Abstaining from alcohol hasn’t seemed to have been a problem for him, although I suspect he’ll have a harder time resisting it once he comes up against some sort of conflict he’d rather not deal with.
“And just what are we making with them Legos?”
I look up to find Nolan, Moira’s husband, coming toward us. He’d come home from work and gone straight to the shower to freshen up.
“That’s a very good question,” Moira says with a laugh. “She’s so distracted wondering when her man will be here that she can’t even build so much as a single tower.”
“Hush now,” I say, though I can’t deny her assessment. Max and I have finished sorting the primary colors of the Legos and he’s now gleefully mixing them all up again.
“This is an exciting time for us all,” Nolan says. “The very first time Amelia brings round a man.”
“Don’t make this into too big of a thing,” I say. Kissing the top of Max’s head, I then stand and move closer to the kitchen bar to join Moira.
“He’s just your lover, is that it?” Moira asks with a grin.
I groan. “Oh, that word.”
Nolan laughs. “And you should know by now how much your sister likes to antagonize you.”
“It is the job of the younger sister,” I concede.
Moira rolls her eyes and then dumps a packet of dried pasta into a pot of boiling water. “Is your Daniel the younger or older brother?”
“He’s older. By five years, in fact.”
“Then it’s his brother who gives him a hard time?”
“Eh, well, not exactly.”
Before I’m interrogated about that response, there’s a rapping at the door.
“I’ll get it,” I volunteer, rushing to be the one to greet Daniel first.
Swinging open the door, I’m pleasantly surprised by how put together he looks. He’s had a haircut, shaved, and dressed in an outfit that looks straight out of Conor’s closet. The black and red motorbike leather jacket, dark-wash jeans, and recently shined dress shoes are a notch above his normal style. In fact, I even see him sporting a pocket chain and worry he has actually raided the guitarist’s wardrobe.
“So, this is it, then?” he asks.
I can tell by the way his eyes bounce from me to just beyond my shoulder that he’s nervous. This explains his extra effort at his appearance. He modeled himself after the most confident person he knows, hoping to somehow glean some of that for himself. It dawns on me that this scenario of meeting the family of the woman he’s dating isn’t something he has experience with. There are so many traditional, banal, things he’s never done.
“This is it,” I reply and take his hand. “Come in and meet everyone.”
“You must be Daniel,” Nolan says. “I’m Nolan. Oh, is that a bit of a limp? You all right?”
“I’m grand,” Daniel says. “Just about over a little ankle injury.”
Moira joins us, wiping her hands on a tea towel. I make the introductions and include Max in the mix when he toddles over to us.
When Daniel drops to his knees and offers his hand to Max, I almost swoon. Having seen him with Gavin and Sophie’s children, I knew he was good with kids. But the way he interacts so easily with Max shows me he’s a true natural. And that is a very attractive trait.
I’m smiling ear to ear when I meet Moira’s eyes. She raises her eyebrows and nods at Daniel as we watch Max lead him by the hand over to the Legos pile. Daniel follows him, walking the short distance on his knees to keep up with Max.
“And here I thought I might have a new pal,” Nolan says with a laugh.
“Sorry, mate,” Daniel says, “but I can already see who runs things here.”
We all laugh, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Things have started off perfectly well.
“Now, what is it you do, exactly, Daniel?” Moira asks, once we’re all seated at the dining table.
We’ve all helped ourselves to the pesto pasta and salad and rolls. I’d warned Moira that I’d be joining Daniel in not drinking this evening, so only she and Nolan have glasses of red wine in front of them. Max sits in a booster chair between his parents, eating buttered noodles and steamed broccoli while watching cartoons on a tablet set up in front of him.
“I work for my brother’s band,” Daniel says.
“Rogue, is it?” Nolan asks with a bit of wonder in his voice.
“That’s them.” Daniel has lost his earlier nervousness. The pride he has for Shay and Rogue is obvious. He’s straightened up in his chair and his gray eyes have a spark. “They’ll be touring again soon, and I’ll go out with them to do the stage lighting. Just came from a meeting about all the prep work we’ll be doing, in fact.”
I feel Moira’s eyes on me but refuse to look at her. I know what she’s thinking. It doesn’t matter that I don’t give her my attention, anyway, because she says her thoughts aloud.
“Touring with them means you’ll be away for months at a time, does it?” she asks.
“Normally, it mightn’t be so rough,” Daniel says, “but they’re keen to get the tour done in about a year, so yeah, it’ll be long periods before a break.”
“Must be madness, that,” Nolan says. “Being on tour with a band like Rogue. Jesus.” He shakes his head in undisguised envy. “The crowds and the parties and the groupies, yeah?”
Daniel laughs. “It’s a scene, for sure. Only, the groupies are pretty much kept away. All these sorry sods are basically married with kids. The wild times ain’t what they used to be.”
I grit my teeth at this. Once more Daniel is romanticizing the past that he had no part in. I know better than to speak my mind on this subject, though.
“You shou
ld see Gavin and Sophie’s children,” I say. “They’re so beautiful. They have a little girl named Daisy. She’s only two and a half. And her younger brother, Hale, he’s just so precious.”
“How old is he?” Moira asks, warming to the subject just the way I knew she would. She and I have something in common: we’re both anxious to have a baby. Whereas she is hoping to expand her little family, I have, for the last year or so, felt the intense desire for a child of my own. She’s the only one I’ve confided in about this, and she loves to indulge me in the subject.
“Em, he’s—” I start.
“Nine months,” Daniel answers.
“Aww, are you uncle Danny, then?” Moira asks with a grin.
He laughs. “I guess so. I’m surrounded by kids. Gavin’s, Conor’s, Martin’s. And now my brother’s joining the ranks.”
“Oh, that’s fantastic. Congratulations to him.”
“I don’t think that he’s ready to share the news with the world,” I say carefully. “You’ll keep it quiet for now, won’t you?”
“Oh, shite,” Daniel says. “Yeah, could you both keep that under wraps?”
“Don’t worry,” Nolan says, “we know how to be discreet. It’s an occupational requirement, in fact.”
“In what way?” Daniel asks.
“Moira is an emergency room nurse. There’s all kinds of privacy concerns with that, of course. And I work for the Garda.”
“Garda?” Daniel asks quickly.
Nolan laughs. “Don’t worry, I’m not the police. But I do work dispatch for them. And boy, I hear all kind of things with that job.”
“Ah, surely you can spare us a story,” Daniel says with a mischievous grin. “No names means it’s all anonymous.”
“Well, I dunno,” Nolan says. He looks at Moira and they share a silent moment where it’s clear she’s giving him the permission he wants. It releases him to lean over the table conspiratorially. “So, once there was this old timer who rang up to complain about his toilet.”
“His toilet?” Daniel laughs.
“Yeah, see, he says some local kids must be pulling a prank on him because every time he sits down, his bollocks go splash into the toilet water!”
Problematic Love (Rogue Series Book 8) Page 16