I swat him with a pillow. “Fuck off with that crap.”
“You can’t deny the truth. You had writer’s block for months, and from the second Vivien showed up, you’ve been writing up a storm. It’s your best work, Dillon.”
I lean back against my headboard, reaching for my smokes on autopilot. “I won’t deny she’s inspiring me, but don’t call her that. Yoko Ono was the bomb that detonated The Beatles. Vivien could never be that.”
Jay smirks. “Defensive much?”
“Fuck off.”
“It’s cool, mate. I like her for you.” He props up on one elbow. “I never thought you’d have a girlfriend before me. You were always destined to be the eternal bachelor.”
My fingers wrap around my lighter, stalling just as I’m about to light up. “Vivien is mine for now, but it won’t last.” I toss the lighter and smokes back on my locker. I want to quit, and I’ve got to start breaking the habit.
“Wow, does she know you’ve already written off your relationship?”
“I’m being pragmatic.” I glance at my watch as I swing my legs onto the floor. “She’s returning to L.A. at the end of the summer.”
“Maybe.”
I stand and stretch my back out. I’ve been holed up on my bed all day writing lyrics, and I’m a little stiff now. “There’s no maybe about it.”
“She might change her mind.”
“I don’t want her to change her mind.” I level him with a sharp look. “I’m not long-term relationship material, and we both know it. This will be fun while it lasts. Then she’ll go home, and I’ll go back to how things were.”
“Sounds so easy.” He climbs to his feet and claps me on the back. “Hope it all works out for you, lad.”
“Sorry, how much?” I’m sure my incredulity is evident in my tone as much as the disbelief is written all over my face.
“Eighty-five euro,” the woman behind the counter in the florist’s says.
“For twelve fucking roses? Are you shitting me?”
I have lots of plans for things to show Vivien this week, and I can’t afford to do all of them if I blow this kind of money on a bunch of flowers, at least not without making a considerable dent in my savings.
“That’s what they cost.” She folds her arms and purses her lips. “Are you taking them or what?”
I grind my teeth to the molars, beyond pissed off. “I’ll leave them.”
“Cheapskate,” she murmurs under her breath, and I glare at her as I stomp out of the shop.
I’m fit to kill someone as I storm down Grafton Street, trying to push the images of those roses Reeve sent her from my mind. There were at least thirty in that bouquet, and it enrages me he can buy stuff for her on a whim and I can’t.
I recall the shite Aoife said that first night Viv showed up, and her words actually help. Aoife got it all wrong. Vivien isn’t the kind of girl who demands expensive things. Far from it. She’s generous with her money, but it’s never extravagant, she never brags, and she usually doesn’t want to draw attention to it.
Vivien seems to appreciate the little things I do for her, like washing her shirt, making sandwiches for our picnic, and showing up yesterday with ice cream and wine and cooking her dinner when she was feeling low.
We fed one another ice cream, in between kisses, and it was so fucking hot. I’m addicted to her lips and the way she feels under my hands. I didn’t even mind enduringThe Notebookagain because she kept me distracted. Just holding her and spending time with her soothed my soul. She fell asleep before me on the sofa, and I snapped a few sneaky pics because she looked so fucking beautiful. I might have stared at those pics one or a thousand times today.
It took huge effort to remove myself from her gaff last night after Ash woke us up because I could barely tear myself awayfrom her. I didn’t want to go home to my empty bedroom, and I’ve been dying to see her all day. Which is why I’m planning to show up outside the gates of Trinity tonight to take her to dinner. I’ve been suffering withdrawal symptoms all day, and I refuse to go any longer without seeing her.
There’s a nice Italian place just off Dame Street that is good quality food and reasonably priced. I walk into Spar, trying not to feel like a worthless sack of shit when I buy a bunch of cheap lilies. Hopefully, Vivien will appreciate the gesture more than the expense.
“What are you doing here?” Vivien asks when she finally appears thirty minutes later. I’ve been freezing my bollocks off waiting for her. Ash said her last class ended twenty minutes ago, but she was obviously held up. Although she’s all bundled up in a coat and scarf and I can’t see much of her, she’s still a sight for sore eyes. The tip of her nose is red, and her cheeks are flushed, and though her hair is pulled back in a ponytail and she has no makeup on, she’s still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.
“Waiting for you, Hollywood,” I confirm. “I’m taking you to dinner.” Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Cat frowning, but I ignore her, keeping my focus on my girl. Gulping over the lump in my throat, I hand the flowers to Vivien. “These are for you.” I shove my hands in my pockets to stop myself from grabbing her like I want to.
All my anxiety disappears the instant her face lights up. Viv buries her nose in the petals. “I love them. Thank you.” She leans up, pressing her mouth to my ear. “You’re always so thoughtful. It means a lot,” she adds before brushing her lips against mine.
