Page 31 of Power Play with My Brother's Irish Friends

16

MIRANDA

Charlie’s kiss stuck with me all the way through the airport, during my flight check-in, and even as I sank into the stiff chair and watched the board for my flight loading time to arrive. Every heartbeat threatened to strum the organ right out my chest and onto the sad blue carpet. I rubbed my eyes and tried to concentrate on the book I’d downloaded to pass the time. Nothing helped. Hours passed as I waited while staring at the wall.

Nothing made sense, especially not Charlie’s kiss. He’d made it clear he wanted no part of a relationship with me. He’d admitted our night together was a mistake…a night I still did not truly remember. The shame of it kept me from asking for clarification, especially when Charlie continually pushed me away.

When my flight began to board, I filed onto the plane along with everyone else, that stiff, robotic feeling anchoring every step until my feet dragged across the floor. I sank into the window seat and dropped my elbow onto the narrow rim, staring across the tarmac but seeing nothing beyond the look in Charlie’s eyes as he backed away from me. The disappointment I’d fought down over and over again during my time with the team rushed in, swamping me with grief I’d not felt in years. Even Luther’s betrayal hadn’t hurt this much. What did that mean? What did it mean that Charlie consistently said he didn’t want a relationship but then kissed me with enough passion to light me on fire?

People filed past me, the constant noise a necessary backdrop to my spinning thoughts. By the time the plane took off, lifting us high into the air and taking me home, I’d found no resolution, only more confusion. It hit me then, the realization that New York no longer felt like home. The empty apartment waiting for me held no joy. All the memories I’d made there were tainted by Luther’s deception. Thinking about him put a rush of bitter bile in the back of my throat.

My family lived in Washington. Austin. The team. Charlie, Duncan, and Patrick. They’d ingrained themselves in my heart and soul. Leaving Austin behind felt wrong. Even worse, leaving the three men who’d treated me so wonderfully that first night squeezed every drop of joy from me. Tears crashed from my eyes and splattered on my lap.

“Oh dear.” A wispy voice croaked from my left. “Here.” A white, linen handkerchief was stuffed into my hand and a trembling hand patted my shoulder. “It’ll be all right, dear. No need to worry.”

I dabbed at my eyes with the handkerchief. “It’s not the flight.” That was as far as I made it before the sobs shaking my shoulders drove me forward at the waist. The smooth flight continued as I worked to regain control.

“Well then it must be love.” The voice returned, coming from the thin woman riding beside me.

I wiped my eyes and made myself look her way. White hair curled around her head in a smooth fifties style that she fluffed with her fingers. She peered at me through wide blue eyes, her face a mask of wrinkles. “Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s always love, dear.” She patted my knee. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

I hiccuped and scrubbed the tears from my face. “You don’t really want to know.”

“Oh?” She leaned in and winked. “Is it a juicy story? I love a good story. And I’m a good listener.” She waved a hand around her head. “And I’m all alone in this world. Nothing better to pass the time than the chance to offer a bit of conversation.”

True. And I needed advice from someone with life experience. Maybe she didn’t have the exact experience I needed to understand my situation, but I’d kept all this bottled up so long it burst out of me in a rough series of events that I painted in broad strokes to keep from revealing the true depth of me having feelings for three men at the same time. “I’m going to miss them.” Again, I kept it generic, but the knowing look in her eyes spoke volumes.

“You’ll see your brother again. And the rest of the team. It’s natural to feel so connected once you’ve spent so much time together. They’ve become like family to you. And now that you’re going back to the place where you have no connection to anyone, you’re feeling lost and alone.” A slow nod brought the scent of hairspray and powder across the space. “Why not move to Washington? Surely you can work from there as easily as New York.”

I could, but did I want to put myself in the position to be rejected over and over again? Charlie made it clear we would never be together. I loved Austin more than any other person in the world, but even that love could not counter the rejection.

They all had turned away from me. Duncan, who made me feel safe and protected, had kissed me and walked away.

Patrick made me feel beautiful and desirable even though my mental injuries flared hot and bright between us. He’d offered to begin a relationship behind Austin’s back. I’d not taken him up on it, expecting he didn’t mean it beyond a few nights in his bed.

And Charlie. Sweet, dependable Charlie, who I respected so much I’d hidden my real feelings from him for years.

The plane jolted as it touched down. I wrapped the handkerchief up in a tight grip. “Thanks for listening.”

“Of course.” The woman–whose name I’d learned was Mary–patted my shoulder. “Keep your chin up. You’re a brave, classy woman who can do anything you set your mind to.” She stood and stretched a bit once the plane stopped and the seatbelt light clicked off. “Good luck, dear.”

I nodded around the lump in my throat and disembarked with my carryon bag in hand. The typical rush of the airport usually invigorated me. Not today. Today, all I wanted was to grab my bags off the carousel, grab a cab, and go home. Home where things made sense and I had the freedom to cry my eyes out or scream into a pillow without judgment. I tucked my chin to my chest and barreled my way through the airport. People jostled and bumped me, but I’d expected that and braced for each impact. Lines of cabs sat outside the airport. I leaped into the first empty one, dragging my bags in with me and rattling off my address in a rapid-fire set of instructions.

The driver left me alone the entire drive, and I’d never been more grateful for a New York cabbie who respected my space. He helped unload my bags from the car and left them stacked on the sidewalk in front of my condo. I tipped him with a smile and a soft thanks that he accepted before driving away. I breathed in the concrete and steel atmosphere, for a split second feeling the welcoming embrace of home. It dissipated the second I wrapped my hand around the suitcase handle and my boot heels clicked on the sidewalk. No one rushed out the front door to meet me. No one cared that I had cried all the way from Washington to New York. Even the doorman I’d come to call by name barely looked up from his spot inside the building as I passed. It was like I’d ceased to exist in this landscape.

My steps echoed all the way across the polished foyer and into the elevator. I bit down on the flash of anger that always grabbed me by the throat since I’d entered the condo and found Luther with another woman. He’d desecrated my space, but I did not have to let him win by running away.

“Is it running?” I watched myself in the stainless wall, taking note of the dark rings around my eyes thanks to a sleepless night that even makeup had failed to cover. “It is if you’re leaving because of him.” I refused to say his name aloud. The doors opened and I pushed my way into the hall. My red door beckoned, and the sting of tears reappeared. Groaning, I unlocked the door and rushed inside, slamming it closed and locking it behind me.

My phone pinged, and I lunged for my shoulder bag with enough force to topple all my cases. Austin’s name popped onto the screen: You should be home by now. Miss you already. Come see us soon.

The smiley face emoji, along with the picture he’d sent me of him helping Samantha with her car, did me in.

“Come on, Miranda.” I scolded myself and flapped my hands at my face, trying to ease the rising heat. “Calm down. There’s no reason to be so emotional.” If a man said that to me, I’d claw his eyes out, but it didn’t count when I said it to myself. “You need food. A good movie, and a nap. In that order. Unpacking can wait.” Everything about my condo was meant to be welcoming. From the new, frilly drapes over the windows leading to my narrow balcony to the plush blanket spread across the back of my couch. I’d created this space for myself as a haven to compensate for the chaos of my career. Leaving the suitcases by the door, I kicked off my shoes and removed the clip from my hair, shaking my head to free the tightness in my scalp.

I started with food, digging into the freezer for a bowl of my favorite homestyle chicken noodle soup from a local shop. I bought it by the gallon and froze it for occasions like this. Food secured, I carried the steaming bowl to the couch and sank into the welcome comfort. A click of the remote brought the TV to life, and I settled in for a rewatch of my favorite romcom. Romance might not be the best option, but I loved the cheesiness that brought as much comfort as the familiar food.

A man with broad shoulders and green eyes appeared on the screen. I choked on my soup and jabbed my finger onto the button to change to another movie. A flicker on the screen and a man who looked remarkably like Patrick appeared. “What the hell is wrong with me?” I changed to another favorite, this time finding a dead ringer for Charlie in the background. “Ugh.” Every movie, every show, reminded me of them, the men I’d left behind. I set the half-eaten bowl of soup on the glass table beside me and curled into a ball, welcoming the bliss of sleep.

Austin messaged me again, sending me a photo of the entire team standing in the middle of the rink. I read the message out loud to help beat back the loneliness. “The guys say hi.” I ran my thumb over the photo and zoomed in on Charlie, Patrick, and Duncan bunched up together right behind Austin.

“I miss you.” I tapped the photo, shrinking it back to normal size and closed my eyes.

Darkness coated the room when I jolted awake. Nausea gripped my stomach and rose up my throat.

The room spun when I lurched to my feet and bolted for the bathroom.

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