‘I did—but the fact I might see you helped make up my mind.’
It makes me happy. Tom thought about this. He wanted to see me. He didn’t just rock up and happen to find me here, like Dillon.
‘I’m glad you did.’ I smile at him.
He doesn’t smile back. ‘You let him kiss you.’
‘You never tried.’
As if my words have unleashed him, Tom snatches up my face in his palms and kisses me. His lips open and the kiss intensifies. I press into him and he makes a deep guttural growl which makes me push against him harder. We stagger backwards until his back hits a tree, still kissing hungrily. It’s been so long.
‘Olive.’ His voice rasps. ‘I don’t have …’
I pull away. ‘No. This is not …’
He pulls me back into him. ‘Okay.’ He keeps kissing me, turns us, so he’s pressing me into the tree. His hands are in my hair. It feels so good but something is bugging me. Tom tips my head back to kiss my neck, and my eyes find the sky.
‘This isn’t me choosing you,’ I have to tell him.
His lips freeze against my throat. Cac.
‘It’s not me choosing him either,’ I add quickly. I sigh. ‘I just don’t know.’
Tom pulls away, his eyes dark pain. ‘Do I have a chance?’
‘What? Of course you have a chance,’ I say, taking his hands and placing them back on my waist. ‘You can’t blame me for having doubts. You remember how difficult it was.’
His fingers hold me tight but he can’t quite look at me. ‘I don’t want it to be difficult anymore.’
‘Neither do I but it’s not like anything has changed. The curse still exists. My problems still exist. You can’t just pretend everything is suddenly going to be fine.’
‘Something has changed though, hasn’t it,’ Tom says, jerking his head up and looking me in the eye. ‘Him. Dillon. He sees you. Why?’
‘I don’t know.’ I’m suddenly frustrated. ‘But I don’t want it to be about that. I want to be with a guy because I like him and he likes me—not because of some curse.’
Tom traces his finger down my cheek. ‘I like you, Ol.’
‘And I like you too.’
‘So what’s the problem?’
I take a breath. ‘I like him too.’
Tom drops his hands. I miss their presence immediately.
‘It’s easy with Dillon,’ I say, desperate for him to understand. ‘He gets me. I don’t have to be perfect for him.’
‘You don’t have to be perfect for me.’
‘But you get so frustrated by me. It’s not your fault—I know most normal people would. It’s just I don’t have to try with Dillon. He likes my … prickles.’
My head starts to pound. Am I kidding myself? Dillon doesn’t know my prickles. He doesn’t even know I’m invisible!
‘So it’s him,’ Tom whispers miserably.
‘No,’ I say. He looks at me and I have to turn away. ‘I don’t know.’
‘So I just wait until you do know?’
‘I can’t ask you to do that. I mean, I want to. But I’m not. You don’t have to stay. I understand if you—’
‘You don’t want me here?’ He looks shattered.
‘Of course I do!’ I smooth the creases from his forehead. ‘I love that you’re here, but this is his home. If you can’t handle Dillon …’
His jaw clenches. ‘I can handle Dillon.’
He cannot handle Dillon. What should I do?
Tom snorts a mocking laugh. ‘It’s going to be a great Christmas.’
‘Tom—’
‘No. I get it. Just go.’
Tom turns his back on me in dismissal so I plod back towards the house, feeling wretched. Why does it have to be this way? Tom has just been so sweet and I have to walk away? When I reach the top of the steps I turn back to look at him. He’s got his hands thrust in his pockets, staring up at the stars. Before I can stop myself I’m running back to him; he sees me, opens his arms and I run into them.
‘Thank you for coming,’ I say breathlessly. ‘It means so much to me. And the kiss …’
‘Did it help or hinder my cause?’
‘Oh helped. Definitely.’
I get a tiny glimpse of the Tom I used to know, the relaxed confident one. ‘I might have to try it again sometime.’
I hope so, I think. But I can’t say it. Not until I figure this out.
‘I never planned on pushing you into anything, Ol. I just wanted to see you again. See if we both still felt …’ he peters off.
‘Like killing each other?’
Tom chuckles. ‘Yeah. Like killing each other.’
I drift back to my bedroom with Tom happily wedged in my thoughts and creeping more and more into my heart but when I open the door to the Lilac suite, Dillon is sitting cross-legged on my bed, reading The Catcher in the Rye.
CHAPTER
28
‘You can’t stay in here,’ I tell Dillon.
‘Ya don’t want me to?’
Of course I want him to. I want to stay up all night hearing what he’s been up to since he left New York. It would be wonderful to keep exploring what we started. But we can’t. Not now. Not with Tom here.
‘No,’ I say. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
My tone must convey my lack of conviction because Dillon lays the book aside and stretches out on the bed, fluffing the pile of pillows behind his head. ‘Come here. Look, there’s a space exactly yer size,’ he says, pointing to the crook of his arm. ‘Come on. Just for a minute.’
I look, at the spot. It’s irresistible.
‘One minute,’ I mutter, crawling up the bed to lie beside him. I curl into his body and he runs his fingers through my hair.
‘There. That’s better.’
And it is better. I never thought I’d see Dillon again, and here he is—one hot Irish man lying on my bed.
But it’s also worse. I don’t want to be feeling so attracted to two people two minutes apart. What is this, the Bachelorette Shewthrop? It’s ridiculous.
‘You’re reading The Catcher in the Rye,’ I say.
‘Trying to impress a girl.’
‘She’d be an idiot not to be impressed. Even without Salinger.’
‘Aw sweet.’ He plays with my ears. ‘I knew there was a reason I missed ya.’
He missed me. God.
‘Dillon?’
‘Mhm?’
‘You understand why I can’t let you stay.’
‘Yer getting back with him then?’
It hangs there. There is only the honest way to answer. ‘I don’t know.’
‘You’re confused. It didn’t work before, why would it work now?’
‘Exactly!’ I say, but I’m thinking, at least Tom knows I’m invisible. He knows what he’s dealing with. Dillon has no idea.
‘Woeful though, isn’t it?’ Dillon says. ‘I mean, if you weren’t considering it, we could … you know …’ He leans over and takes my earlobe in his teeth.
It hits me then, how Dillon isn’t interested in me long term. He didn’t travel from the other side of the world. He’s just happy he lucked out. He walked in and I was here.
‘Are your underpants on inside out today?’
He chuckles against my ear. ‘No,’ he says. ‘Unbelievable, isn’t it? Maybe I’m luckier than I thought.’
I push him away. ‘Yeah. You’ve got your own disposable girlfriend to fling aside when the holiday is over.’
‘Hey now!’ Dillon jolts back, offended.
I look up at him. ‘Well, it’s true. You said it—you’re no one’s boyfriend!’
It’s surprising how much the words hurt me. They shouldn’t because he warned me. But I can’t help feeling resentful—he could be my true love!
‘Aye. I did say that,’ Dillon says. He’s not quite ashamed of himself but he’s not proud either.
‘So you shouldn’t care.’
‘Aye. But—’ He stops.
‘But wha
t?’ I snap.
‘I do,’ he says softly.
What?
And then I realise I asked him a direct question. It’s the truth.
‘I’m sorry I asked you a question,’ I say. I don’t want to force him to say anything.
He kisses my hair like he knows it.
We lie there in silence. I know I should probably ask him to leave now but his beautiful fingers are playing across my shoulders and it feels so good.
‘This is hard for me too, ya know,’ he says after a while.
I want to scoff—obviously he has no idea how hard it is for me—but I try to sound reasonable. ‘I know.’
‘Do ya?’ Dillon says. ‘I like ya, Olive. But we’ve only spent a few days together. I can’t declare an undying love for ya so that ya don’t go back to yer ex. It’s damn unfair. Maybe we do have a better chance than you and him, but who knows? It’s not like I can prove it.’
Oh cac. He’s got a point.
‘The other fella knows exactly what he wants because he’s had time to get to know ya. I can’t promise ya anything.’ He looks at me. ‘I want to promise you—but I can’t.’
I bury my face into him. ‘Oh god.’
He pokes me. ‘Ya could be a complete mad cow for all I know.’
‘I am.’
‘I know. And I still want to be with ya.’
‘Today,’ I say.
‘Aye. That’s my point. I can’t say I’m going to marry ya or anything. I can’t even say I’ll want to see ya next week. All I know is I missed ya the moment I left. And it scared me. That’s never happened with other girls.’
I look up at him, annoyed at him for bringing up other girls, but the sincerity in his eyes just about kills me.
‘Not even close,’ he says all quietly.
‘I missed you too.’
Our lips meet and we kiss, short and sweet. It’s Dillon who moves away first.
‘That’s new,’ I say.
‘Got to give the other lad a fair shot.’
I laugh then turn serious. Dillon needs to know that I’m invisible. It will change everything he feels about me. I don’t want to lose him but at least it will end this drama.
‘I have to tell you something.’
‘Sounds grim.’ Dillon readjusts his position so I’m resting on his chest.
‘It is. It will change us,’ I say, playing with his shirt. ‘Actually there won’t be an “us” after I tell you, I pretty much guarantee it. It’s bad.’
‘Not if yer going to tell me yer invisible,’ Dillon says. ‘That’d be dead brilliant, I’ll win fifty quid off Simon.’
I sit bolt upright. ‘What?’
‘Ah shite!’ He shakes his head, then points a finger at me. ‘Don’t tell him I brought it up.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Simon bet me tonight that ya wouldn’t tell me at all. But I had every faith in ya. Twenty-four hours to twenty-four years I gave ya.’
I’m so gobsmacked my mouth is just hanging open like its hinge is broken. ‘Simon told you I was invisible?’
‘Course not. He’s a gentleman.’
‘So how do you know?’ I demand. ‘And since when?’
‘Ahhh …’ He studies the ceiling, his tongue shoved in his cheek as if he’s considering it. I’m flabbergasted he’s so flippant. ‘I think the first time I saw ya, ya were tipping sand in someone’s drink.’ He looks down at me, smug. ‘I definitely saw ya drooling over me as Dieber.’
God. Mortifying! ‘I was not!’
He pretends to look thoughtful. ‘Worked a treat on ya for some reason.’ He looks back at me. ‘Was it the hat?’
I slap him on the chest. ‘So you knew I was invisible the whole time? At the Boathouse?’
‘Aye, that was cruel. Worth it to see ya in yer knickers but.’
‘Oh my god.’
Dillon is laughing. ‘Did ya want me to be more shocked and outraged? I can do that for ya.’
We’re both sitting cross-legged by now, opposite each other. I hang my head in my hands. ‘How are you so cool about this? I don’t understand …’
He takes my hands away from my face. ‘Olive. How do ya not get it by now? Yer tinker, I’m tinker, we’re both cursed—it’s plain as day.’
‘What?’ I grab his elbows and shake him. ‘You’re cursed too?’
‘Aye. The lying thing.’
I shake him some more. ‘Why. Didn’t. You. Tell. Me!’
‘We seemed to be having a perfectly nice time.’
‘But I’ve been thinking I’m damned and alone my whole life! Is this a common tinker thing? Is everyone …’
‘Mad? Aye. But not cursed. Just us luckies.’
I push my fingers back through my hair. And then with horror I think of something. ‘We’re not related are we?’
‘Jaysus, Mary and Joseph, no!’
‘Thank god!’
‘Aye.’
‘I’m going to Ireland after Christmas,’ I tell Dillon. ‘To try and find my grandfather and see if he knows anything about my curse.’
‘So you know how it happened?’
I explain the story to Dillon, who nods, sage-like, at each turn of the tale.
‘Aye. Yer grandad would be in the thick of it then,’ he says when I’ve finished. ‘Magic stays close to its cause. No doubt he’d be dancing in hell with it.’
I look at Dillon sitting so coolly on my bed as if we’re discussing something as innocuous as the weather as opposed to curses and invisibility. It seems inexplicable. ‘Yer going to love Ireland,’ he tells me. ‘I’ll come if ya like. Not that I have any idea where to start looking. We’ll have to drift around and start asking. It’ll be a laugh though.’
It sounds amazing. I have no idea about getting around Ireland or how one tracks down a tinker family, and doing it with Dillon would be so much fun. But there is something far more pressing. ‘I’ve got a question—do you mind?’
‘Do yer worst.’
‘You seem okay with me being invisible. Are you?’
Dillon shrugs. ‘Seen stranger things to be honest with ya.’
Unbelievable!
‘And the true love thing. You’re totally cool with that?’
Dillon’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘I’m sorry, what?’ He’s scrambling now. ‘Wasn’t that two questions?’
Ah. He didn’t know that part.
‘The curse says that only my true love can see me. So far that’s Tom and …’
Dillon takes an extremely long intake of breath through his nostrils.
‘Yes,’ I say, actually quite enjoying it because he’s been abhorrently smug about the whole topic. ‘You.’
Dillon swallows. Swipes his brow. He’s so uncomfortable. ‘So, true …’ he tries.
‘Love,’ I finish for him, grinning.
‘You and me?’
‘And Tom.’
‘Jaysus.’
‘You still want to stay the night?’ I tease him before I realise it’s another question. ‘Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.’
But it’s already out there. He looks at me, bashful. ‘Aye.’
I pretend I don’t notice and lie back against him, my heart hammering. He does like me. Even invisible. Even knowing it could be true love. It’s the last thing I expected.
‘Can I stay?’ he asks after a moment.
‘I do have a lot more questions,’ I admit.
‘Blimey.’
‘This is the first time I’ve met someone else who’s cursed! You can’t blame me for being curious.’
‘All right,’ Dillon says. ‘But can we at least get a little more comfy?’
I raise my eyebrows. ‘You want me to slip into something more comfortable?’
He holds up his hands, all innocence. ‘Ya don’t have to get completely naked.’ He tugs at the sleeve of my jacket. ‘Just get out of this. It stinks to Jaysus.’
‘Fine.’ I roll off the bed and throw my jacket over an armchair by the corner
stone fireplace.
‘Take off more, by all means,’ Dillon encourages me as he tugs off his own shirt.
‘I thought you wanted to give the other guy a chance,’ I say, nodding at his chest. ‘That’s not fair.’
He grins. ‘All right, I’ll admit I don’t like the lad. I wouldn’t give him the steam off me piss if he was dying of thirst.’
I shake my head at him. ‘He’s so much nicer than you.’
‘Just take yer pants off and get over here.’
I walk over and snatch up the T-shirt Dillon just took off. It’s green with Superman’s big S on the front as if he’s some kind of Irish superhero. ‘Killer shirt’s getting a bit manky.’
He looks amused. ‘By all means, help yerself.’
‘I will.’ I jump onto the bed in his shirt and my undies, making a point of not getting under the covers.
‘Okay, I’m going to ask you questions. But I’ll try not to make them too personal, okay?’
‘Have I told ya yer a doll?’
‘Yes,’ I say, pretending I’m bored with it when really I could listen to him compliment me all night. ‘First question, how did you know I was invisible if you could see me?’
‘It’s part of my curse,’ Dillon says. ‘I see things.’
That’s odd. ‘What sort of things?’
‘The truth.’
I suck in an excited breath. ‘What? You’re a soothsayer?’
Dillon laughs and shakes his head. ‘No. I don’t see the future.’
‘Soothsayers don’t always see the future—they see the truth,’ I tell him. ‘That’s the original definition anyway.’
‘Well, I don’t like the name. It makes me sound bonkers.’
‘I think it’s spectacular!’
Dillon laughs. ‘Does it make you horny? Now that would be useful.’
I frown at him. ‘Does Simon know? And Prue, the whole family?’
‘They know I can’t lie but they think it’s a quirk not a curse.’
‘A quirk?’
‘“Psychological scar” might be the term bandied around.’ He rubs the flesh of my arms; it’s goosebumpy with the chill. ‘Yer cold.’
‘I’m fine,’ I lie. ‘It sounds more like a gift than a curse.’
One side of his mouth lifts. ‘You sound like my Ma.’
‘Well it does!’
The Implausible Story of Olive Far Far Away Page 19