Jude is older than us, likely in his midforties if I had to guess, and he just takes the joke in stride. “Relax, Leona, I knew what you meant. Unfortunately I don’t have a car here, or I would be happy to. But you’re right, it’s too late for the train. When I went, it took me nearly an hour to get there with the different routes you have to switch between.”
I feel like I might vomit, a result of the combination of embarrassment and nerves swirling in my gut. The landlord, Ainne, is giving me two more weeks to get settled and pay rent. I can’t do that without a job, and I can’t work without that number.
“Ahem.”
The sound of Callum clearing his throat draws my gaze reluctantly back to him. How is it that ten minutes ago I couldn’t look away, and now the thought of facing him fills me with self-consciousness?
The edges of his eyes are still crinkled in amusement, but he’s managed to get the cocky smile under control. He crosses his arms over his chest, impressive biceps fully on display. “I have a car.”
Desperation overrides any self-preservation telling me riding in a car with a strange, albeit gorgeous, man I just met is not the wisest decision. Besides, I’m not exactly in a place to turn down the favor. “Would you mind? I’d be happy to pay for the gas.”
He shakes his head at my offer while he retrieves a set of keys from his jacket pocket, swinging them around his index finger. The universe continues to shift under my feet, making me wonder if I’ll ever stand on solid ground again.
“Don’t worry about it. I’d be honored to give you a ride.”
Padraig’s amusement quickly sobers when he sees the look in my eyes. Callum, meanwhile, seems to have seen a ghost.
Does he remember that first moment as I do? With fondness, despite all that has happened. Or does he regret ever making that tongue-in-cheek offer, knowing what became of us as a result?
I tear my gaze away from him, letting it flit about the bar without settling too long on anything in particular. The lighting is dim and seemingly powered only by gas lanterns hung haphazardly throughout the room. The walls are exposed stone in various shades of brown and gray. The old bar is made from weathered barnwood, if I had to guess. It’s a cozy place that feels a bit like stepping back in time.
The elderly gentleman behind the counter tips his flat cap at me, smiling beneath his scraggly white beard. I offer him a grin in return that doesn’t reach my eyes. Like everything else about me, it’s become an echo of the joy I was capable of the first time I stepped foot in Ireland.
“Ah, Leona, I’d be happy to give you a lift,” Padraig says, drawing my gaze back to him. I scan the pint glasses on the table, counting two empty and two just getting started. He catches me looking. “It’s taken me an hour and a half to drink those two; I’m good to go.”
I nod, and Padraig rises from his seat. Callum starts, reaching out, and grabs his friend’s arm so tightly his knuckles turn white.
“Are you sure you’re good, man?” Callum asks, a fierceness in his eyes replacing the disgust I’ve been getting since I arrived.
Padraig’s eyebrows furrow at his friend, and he yanks his arm out of Callum’s grasp. “Yeah, why would you even ask that? You know I’d never drive if I weren't right as rain.”
Realization dawns on Callum’s features as he glances at me before training his gaze on the tabletop. “Right. Sorry.”
Padraig is still studying him, and I can practically see the moment the lightbulb goes off over his head. “You wouldn’t be wanting to drive her, would ya? Since all you’ve had is a sip.”
“No,” we say in unison, twin vines of panic lacing our vocal cords.
Padraig glances between the two of us before nodding once. “All right then. Just checking.” He claps a hand down firmly on Callum’s shoulder, who is still focusing hard on a drink ring staining the table. “Sorry to bail on you, but duty calls.”
“Thanks, Podge,” I murmur. He grins at me and rests a hand gently against the small of my back to turn me toward the exit. The last I see of Callum is his gaze, hollow and unreadable, finally lifting to meet mine. Just determined to see me out of his safe haven, I suppose.
The brisk, early evening air does wonders for my blood pressure, cooling my feverish face and bringing me back down to earth. Padraig escorts me over to his cab and opens the passenger door for me to climb in before jogging around to the other side. He’s wearing an identical tracksuit to the one I saw him in that first day. I’m convinced it’s the only type of clothing he owns. Or a self-imposed uniform.
“Sorry about him. I didn’t realize quite how badly you got under his skin,” he says, shifting roughly into gear before pulling onto the street.
I scan the passersby on the sidewalk, all bundled up against the incoming chill of night. I’ve never been here in the winter, but I remember Callum telling me that the temperature isn’t what gets you. It’s the wind that cuts right through your clothes.
“I told you we weren’t friends,” I mumble.
We roll to a stop at a red light. As some pedestrians cross in front of us, Padraig taps on my leg, dragging my attention away from the window. My hot breath leaves a foggy circle behind on the glass.
“D’you know he wasn’t always this way?” His face has grown as serious as I’ve seen it, and he watches me intently for a reaction to his words. He must find what he’s looking for, because his eyes soften at the edges and his eyebrows lift, opening his expression up. “Who do I think I’m talking to; of course you know.”
Something sinks inside me when I realize Callum must’ve explained our history to Podge. I couldn’t have expected him not to, but the shame is there all the same. Still, curiosity gets the better of me. “I’m not sure what you mean by that.”
The light changes and we start rolling forward again. I can already see the sign for Aldi up ahead, and I start to feel a bit stupid for even asking for a ride—lift—in the first place. Then I realize Siobhan knew how close it was when I asked, and still sent me to crash her son’s guys’ night.
She’s a determined old bird; I’ll give her that.