Page 58 of The Escape Plan

Not only because I’m beyond curious to know his side of the story and learn more about my Gran and her past, but also because Keeley wants to introduce me to someone so important to her.

I get the feeling that she doesn’t allow people into her inner circle very often. It’s an honor I don’t take lightly.

“You didn’t tell me you were excellent with kids,” Keeley says in an almost accusing tone that makes me laugh.

“It didn’t really come up in conversation,” I reply with a grin.

“Well, Iwasbringing you coffee to recharge after back-to-back-to-back forty-five-minute sessions with six-year-olds.” She holds out a steaming paper cup towards me. “But you look more energized and recharged than I’ve seen you yet.”

“Oh, I could definitely use that caffeine, so thank you,” I say as I accept the cup from her. I’ve turned into quite the coffee drinker since coming here. “But I do like kids, and I like teaching kids. Especially kids who love music and want to learn it.”

“I can tell.” She shakes her head. “I love my nephew, but after spending forty-five minutes with him, I often feel like I’ve aged forty-five years.”

“Ah, but the good news is, you don’t look a day over forty,” I tease.

“Rude!” She glowers at me playfully as she reaches out to whack my arm, but my reflexes are quicker, and I intercept her weak hit easily, wrapping her outstretched hand in mine.

The sensation of her small, warm hand against mine sends an immediate tingly feeling down my arm, and we both still, our hands mid-air, entwined.

After a moment, I drop my grip, and Keeley shoves her hand in her pocket. Looks down at her Converse.

Meanwhile, I rub the back of my neck, trying to play it like I didn’t just feel a million sparks travel through me.

Sparks just like I felt a couple nights ago, when we sat out on the fire escape.

For a long, loaded moment, I had the almost insatiable urge to kiss her. That heavy, almost intoxicating feeling of desire hit me out of the blue. I haven’t felt sparks like that—raw want like that—in averylong time. Maybe ever, if I’m being honest.

And it felt like she wanted me to kiss her, too…

But then, that car alarm went off, and she jumped back like a scalded cat. I couldn’t see her expression in the dark, leaving me to wonder if I’d very much misread the moment.

“Should we go?” I ask, all casual-like.

“Sure,” she says quickly. Almost too quickly.

Like she feels the same sparks I do when we touch.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Beckett

Twenty minutes later,we’re walking into a beautiful facility with country-club vibes, and any sense of calm or happiness or excitement I might have felt back at Blue Notes has been replaced with sheer nerves.

I’m about to meet someone who is a complete stranger to me but who was once important to my Gran. Someone I’ve heard countless stories about over the years without really knowing if they were true.

The person at the center of all the tales Gran told of a boy she loved and lost. And the likely owner of the Claddagh ring I wear around my neck.

Keeley greets the receptionist by name, and she waves us inside with a smile. We walk down a brightly lit corridor decorated with floral and landscape paintings and into a sort of living area, where groups of people are scattered about, playing cards, sipping coffee, and chatting.

In one corner, a man with a lined face and kind blue eyes brightens as we approach.

“Hi, Gramps!” Keeley gives him a hug. “I’ve brought a friend to visit you today, if that’s okay. He’s really looking forward to meeting you.”

The older man cranes his head towards me. “Oh, how nice.”

“This is Beckett McCarthy,” Keeley says, and I extend my hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say, smiling warmly. “Keeley’s told me so much about you.”

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