“Please don’t feed their egos.”
“How’s it going?I’m Ryan.”
“Liam.”
“Do we know each other?”Ian asks.
“He’s Liam O’Reilly from Four Reasons To Die.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”Ian exclaims.
Liam smiles, a bit sheepish.
“The missus adores you — I probably shouldn’t be telling you that, now.”
Liam laughs.
“Could you hide somewhere?Because she’s here, and I don’t think she’ll be able to contain herself if she spots you.”
Liam laughs again and shakes his head.
“Tell me the rest of the band isn’t here, too,” Ryan adds.“My missus dotes on the drummer.”
“I’m on my own.”
“Oh, thank God for that, I’m safe.You’re on your own with that one,” he says to Ian.
Liam laughs in amusement at the O’Connor invasion as I grab my beer and turn on my stool to scan the room.When my eyes land on him, I’m sure there’s an earthquake going on, or a flood, or some kind of natural disaster.Because my world has just been shaken to its core, and I can only hope that his magic hands can keep it together.
Chapter32
Martin
Iknew it.I shouldn’t have come.I don’t belong here.I don’t belong with him.
I’m so stupid.What was I even thinking?Showing up to surprise him?
He’s the one surprising me, like a Christmas present you’d rather leave sitting under the tree till New Year’s.
Jamie’s at the bar with a man.They’re chatting away, and from the way they’re smiling at each other, you’d swear they’ve known each other for years.And he’s fucking gorgeous.All scruffy, with a long, messy beard, he’s got the look of someone who’s been living in a hedge, but I suppose the Captain has a soft spot for lads like him.
You’re a loser, Doctor.Don’t even bother trying to be someone else.
I watch from a distance as Ian and Ryan approach them.They talk, and Ryan immediately makes an idiot of himself.I shake my head in resignation as an unpleasant, familiar feeling creeps over me: jealousy, of course.And disappointment.For a moment, I had believed it — I had fallen for it.
Jamie turns and scans the room.His eyes land on me just as I’m about to slip away.
He goes still, staring, whatever the others are saying to him fading into the background.
I stay where I am, letting him look at me, shutting out the noise in my own head.
Suddenly, he stands, and the room falls silent.He moves confidently towards me, weaving through the crowd, while I do my best not to collapse; if I do, my son will never let me hear the end of it.
When he’s only a step away, I realise he’s breathless.I’m half-tempted to take his wrist and check his pulse, but what I really want is to grab him by the collar and pull him in, to give him all the air he needs.
“You’re here.”
I shrug, a bit on edge.I can’t tell if that’s an accusation or just a fact.
