Page 8 of Kick Out of It

“That sounds grand, maybe I’ll do the same. Want to split it?” I glance up, finding Nora studying me curiously.

Leo’s eyes light up briefly, then nervously sighs, “Oh. I guess I could get mushrooms.”

“You better not!” I insist. “I hate the texture. They're slimy and I want them nowhere near our pasta.” I turn up my nose like I did as a kid, making Leo chuckle, and ask Nora, “What are you having?”

“I ate on the plane, so I’m having a pint.” She lifts it in a cheers. “I hope you don’t mind that we ordered drinks without you?”

“That’s codswallop, and you know it.” I nod to the anxious waitstaff behind the bar, and they rush over. “I think we’re ready.”

Nora sips her pint as I gesture to Leo to order for us. He clears his throat dramatically and attempts an Irish accent as he orders. Though, it sounds more Scottish than Irish. “This is Mr. O’Leary, the greatest striker in the league. And we’ll be sharing the pasta withnomushrooms.” Nora shields her face inembarrassment, stifling her giggles, and I let out a full laugh. His accent is abhorrent at best, but I can’t stop smiling. “Did I do it right?”

“Grand. You sound as if you’ve lived here all your life, mate. But you can call me Ronan, if you like.”

“He said I can call him Ronan,” Leo whispers to his mum.

“I’ll have a stout, when you have a moment,” I order.

“Of course, is there anything else I can get ya in the meantime?”

“No, thanks a million, Clara.”

“You know her?” Leo asks as Clara makes her way back to the bar.

“No,” I chuckle. “I’ll admit, I do know a lot of people. But it’s on her nametag.”

I’m trying to be present for Leo, but I can’t help my focus on Nora. We have spent hours upon hours talking about everything from celebrity gossip to favourite recipes, but she’s looking at me as if she doesn’t know me at all. Our stare down ensues, until she takes a sip, hiding a small smirk behind her pint glass. I must’ve hit a nerve at some point and, for the life of me, I can’t figure her out. Messaging back and forth this past year, conversation has always flowed freely. It’s as if she’s put a wall up, and I want none of it, and now am on a mission to tear it down. Brick by brick. This has nothing to do with Keith, and everything to do with how I’ve been pining after a woman on the other side of a messaging app for far too long.

Nora hasn’t said much since I sat down. Yet, I can’t help grinning at the amusement now dancing across her features. “So, Nora, I didn’t have a chance to ask earlier, how was your flight?”

“It tookforever,” Leo answers for them with an exasperated groan.

Eyes twinkling, she replies simply, “He’s right. How was yours?”

“The club takes care of us. We have a private plane, so I have no complaints.”

Leo’s smile widens. “Private plane?”

“Aye, the only way to travel.” I offer a wink, which only adds to his excitement. “When the new league formed, they made sure every team had one.”

A different waiter from before delivers my stout to the table, scurrying away as quickly as he came. I’m not used to the shy behaviour, I’ve signed everything from a business card to a tit. I’m only briefly confused by it, until I notice a journalist from a match last week in the corner.

Is he watching us?

Awkward silence settles at the table, and I can’t stand it. “So, Leo, your mum mentioned you play footie.”

“I did back home. Mom had me in a soccer rec league, and I was supposed to try out for comp but…” His face falls.

“But, what?”

Leo looks to Nora who also has sullen eyes. “It’s my new job,” she replies quietly.

Fuck. Me.

“Well, you’re in Cork, home of the best football club in the world.” I gesture around me with a wide sweep of the room.

“I thought that was England?” Leo counters and I wave him off.

“My nephew plays on a team and he’s about your age. Would you like me to check if my sister can send over the contact information? Maybe we can see about you playing late this season?”

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