Page 41 of Promise Me This

He snorts, and I crack a relieved smile.

“Don’t you be worrying about me, now. Dermot here keeps me in check. He’d deliver me right to rehab’s door if I ever got out of hand.” He and the bartender exchange a respectful nod. “So, Siobhan gave me the outsider’s rundown, but do you want to tell me what happened with your man?”

“Not my man.”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s just a phrase.”

“I know,” I say flatly. “I just wanted to be clear.”

He puts his palms out in a display of innocence. “Sorry. What happened with not your man?”

I glare, and he snickers. I’ve surprised myself by drinking half the pint glass already, and the warmth of the alcohol has reached my veins. My shock has melted, and along with it the desire to keep everything tightly wound inside. It would be so nice to finally unravel, even just for a moment.

“I went to McDonough’s yesterday for lunch, and the guy working there made what could be interpreted as a pass at me.”

Padraig swallows the last sip of his beer before signaling Dermot for another. “Colin?”

“Yeah.”

“It was definitely a pass at you, then.” He thanks Dermot for our refills, and the older man tips his cap at us. He has kind eyes, and it makes me feel safe here, in his bar. Like I can set a bit of my armor down.

Oh God, the alcohol’s already making me sappy.

“Anyway,” I groan. “Siobhan made a comment about it in front of Niamh that she repeated—”

“As she does.”

“—and Callum took that some type of way. I don’t know how to explain it really. He told me I could date whomever I wanted. Then he told me to go home.” The words come out in a rush, and I realize as soon as I finish saying them that I feel like a weight has been lifted off me. I giggle, and it feels so good to laugh. “It’s ridiculous, honestly.”

Padraig studies me with a quirked eyebrow. “It is.”

“I’ve never seen him act that way before. It was so unlike him.” My voice sounds whiny even to my own ears. I down another glug of alcohol, trying to drown out the noise.

“He’s sensitive when it comes to you, and it makes him act like an idiot.”

My stomach drops and I level him with a hard stare.

“I’m not making excuses for him, if that’s what you think. It was just an observation.”

“That’s not why I’m staring at you.”

“Then why are you staring at me?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. The silver strands woven into the dark ones catch the low light of the bar lanterns, shimmering softly.

“You said he’s sensitive about me.” I swallow thickly. What did Dermot do, mix syrup into my drink? “What do you mean?”

Padraig gives me a look that says, Don’t play dumb. “It’s clear that he cares about you. No one reacts that way to someone they don’t have strong feelings for.”

The harrumph that escapes my lips is a bit harsher than I intend. “Well, considering he told me that what happened between us back then was nothing, that we were just stupid kids, I’d say you’re probably mistaken.”

“Sometimes the lies we tell others are really just the ones we’re trying to believe ourselves.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “That was surprisingly insightful.”

He tips his half-empty glass at me. “I’m smarter when I’m buzzed.”

I swallow the rest of mine. “Ironically I only get more stupid.”

He laughs, and my stomach gurgles, and I feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away.

---