“You need to come. Otherwise we’ll just terrorize you here,” Esther ordered, but then she softened a tad. “If you hate it, we’ll bring you home.”
I looked at all their faces. They had used this same formation on me when the pub needed painting and when they bullied the paparazzi into buying Christmas concert tickets. It worked then. It worked now.
“Fine,” I said. “But I’m not wearing heels.”
“Who wears heels anymore?” Cherise asked. “We’ve earned our comfort, dear.”
They got me into the dress. Cherise did a quick updo that didn’t make me look like I’d tried too hard. Shannon swiped on a lipstick that made me look like I had a pulse. Esther watched the clock and texted furiously.
“Who are you texting?” I finally asked.
“Daniel. If he’s not dressed and ready, he’s going to be in trouble,” Esther said with a sniff.
Piling into two cars, I ended up in the passenger seat of Esther’s small car while Meredith and Shannon argued quietly about whether Mr. Darcy would have worn a kilt to a Scottish ball. We left the village and took the road skirting the fields that wound along the sea. It was one of those clear nights where the air bit your nose and the stars looked like ice chips against the inky night sky.
I had lived in Kingsbarns my whole life, and I knew most of the houses, but we turned down a gravel lane I didn’t recognize and rolled up to a set of stone pillars and a gate that looked like it had opinions. Beyond the gate, a drive curved through trees and delivered us to a long whitehouse with a slate roof and a view that fell away toward the sea. It was elegant without being posh. Large windows spilled light out onto the front drive and twinkle lights threaded the bushes. Smoke curled from the chimney and disappeared into the wind.
“This is new,” I said. “Or is it? I’ve never been down this way before.”
“It was renovated a few years back. I think it’s been used as an Airbnb for a while,” Esther said. “It went through a few hands. It’s been empty more than it’s been loved.”
We got out and the cold slapped me in the face, sending a shiver down my back. Something shifted inside me as I looked up at the house, an awareness, and then the door swung open.
“Skye! Don’t you look lovely?” Daniel asked, looking adorable in a waistcoat and bow tie. “Here, let me take your coat.”
Esther leaned in and gave Daniel a smooch before sashaying into the house like she owned it. The others followed, and I was surprised to see several people from around town already chatting away with drinks in their hands.
The room was beautiful with tall windows that faced the sea, a fire roaring in the fireplace, and done up in earthy tones that I imagined would look lovely with the ocean as a backdrop during the day.
“Did you rent this house for the party?” I asked Daniel.
“No,” Daniel said. “Oh, Skye, be a dear. Can you grab Esther a Coke from the cooler? It’s through there.”
I turned to a door where Daniel, his hands full of coats, nodded at.
“Aye, no problem. Anything for anyone else?” I asked.
“Maybe another Coke for Cherise, as she drove.”
“On it,” I said, happy to have a task, as voices and music swelled around me. I wasn’t ready to make idle chitchat, I’d need a drink first for that.I really didn’t want to be here.I wanted to be at home, nursing a gin and tonic, and doing my best not to think about what Noah was doing. Turning the knob, I pushed the door open and the cold hit me once again.
“Oh, this must be a garage?—”
I pulled up short to see Noah sitting in a chair, guitar on his lap, a cheap bottle of the only red wine we could afford back in the day on the table. Another chair sat empty next to him.
My heart slammed against my chest.
It was exactly the setup, albeit in a far fancier house, that we’d sat in all those years ago when we used to write songs shivering in the cold garage, our hearts open and our future before us.
He looked incredible.
I wanted to go crawl into his lap and never let go.
Instead, I let the door fall closed behind me with a definitive click, uncertain of what to do.
Noah quirked that half smile I loved so much and then my stomach twisted as he strummed the opening chords toSkye, his most famous and my most-hated song. I wanted to leave. To just turn around and stomp out of the house and forget that Noah Byrne ever existed.
But when he began to sing...
