“What?” I ask.
“You’re smiling at your phone like a feckin’ eejit,” Declan says. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Oh piss off.”
“No, seriously.” He leans forward, genuinely curious now. “What’s she like? The real her, not the version from school.”
I consider not answering. But they’re my family, and if I can’t talk to them about this, who can I talk to?
“She’s…” I search for the right words. “Brilliant. Funny when she’s not overthinking. Honest to a fault. She knits, for fuck’s sake. Sits there with these intricate patterns and makes jumpers while listening to audiobooks.”
“That’s kind of adorable,” Daire says.
“It is, isn’t it?” I realize I’m smiling again and force my face into neutrality. “She’s also stubborn as hell. Doesn’t back down when she thinks she’s right. And she’s terrified of crowds, but she went into The Craic anyway because her sister wanted to.”
“Sounds like you’re actually into her,” Declan observes.
I grunt and rub my chin. “Suppose I am.”
“Good.” He stands, then claps me on the shoulder. “You deserve someone good, Cav. Someone who’s not in this life by choice. Someone who can remind you there’s more to the world than blood and business.”
After they leave, I try to focus on work, I really do.
But my mind keeps drifting back to her. The way she smelled—something floral and clean. I bet it’s just her soap. She isn’t the perfume or body-spray type.
The way she fit against me in that driveway. The way she looked at me when I apologized at St. Albert’s, like she was seeing me for the first time.
There’s another knock at my door. Ashland, looking uncomfortable.
“What?” I ask.
“Need to talk to you about something.” He closes the door behindhim, which immediately puts me on edge. Ashland doesn’t do private conversations unless it’s serious.
“Spit it out.”
He shifts his weight. “Look, I don’t like being the bearer of bad news, but I heard something at the club last night. About your girl.”
My blood goes cold. “What about her?”
“Couple of drunk eejits talking shite, probably nothing?—”
“Ashland. What did they say?”
He meets my eyes. “They said she’s been seen around town with some lad. Someone who’s not you. They were… laughing about it. Saying things.”
“What things?”
“The usual bollocks. That maybe she’s not as innocent as she seems.” He stops, clearly uncomfortable.
I’m out of my chair so fast it nearly tips over. “Who said this?”
“I don’t know. Bar talk. I shut it down, told them they were full of shite. But, Cavin…” He pauses. “I thought you should know. In case there’s truth to it.”
“There’s not.”
“But you don’t really know her, do you? I mean, you knew her in school, but that was years ago. People change. And she’s been forced into this marriage. Maybe she’s got someone she actually wanted, someone?—”
“Get out.”
