Page 15 of The Escape Plan

Ezra smiles. “I know it. My si?—”

He’s interrupted by the sound of chimes above the door as a woman bursts into the store at full speed.

“Ez, you would not believe the morning I’ve had. I got?—”

The woman’s words dry on her tongue as she takes me in, and I have to smile even as her expression takes on a familiar, scowling quality.

“Oh. It’s you.” Her deep blue eyes flare in a way that completely contradicts her flat tone.

I grin at the small raven-haired woman in front of me for the second time today. “Keeley, hi. Hardly recognized you with your clothes on.”

Ezra’s dark eyebrows fly up. “Excuse me?”

His tone is menacing, and when I look at him, I suddenly realize why his eyes looked so familiar.

He has the exact same eyes as her. Which means…

“Not like that,” I backtrack quickly, holding up my hands as if to show her brother that I’m innocent. “We met in the elevator this morning.”

“And my sister was naked at the time?!” His deep voice goes up an octave, almost comically squeaky.

“Toweled,” I correct.

“What?” Ezra spits, and I’m surprised he doesn’t crack his knuckles.

“Relax, big bro. It was all a big misunderstanding.” Keeley rolls her eyes and crosses her arms.

Now that she’s actually wearing clothes, I don’t feel the need to keep my eyes away from her, and I notice details I missed earlier. Like how long her eyelashes are. How her lips are full and dark pink in color, and her nose is pierced and sports a small silver hoop. I also note that her t-shirt reads “Fries Before Guys,” which I hope is a motto she is currently embracing if that fool in the elevator really was her ex.

And then, my eyes zero in on the silver ring glinting on her middle finger. It’s an Irish Claddagh ring depicting a heart held by two hands, with a crown atop it. Symbols for love, friendship, and loyalty.

Claddagh rings are super common back home, sometimes used as wedding or engagement rings, but more often worn to signify a connection to a family member or loved one.

I have one given to me by my grandmother hanging around my neck on a chain, but I didn’t think they’d be as popular here in America.

“I was wrapped in a towel, very muchnotnaked, and Beckett and I got stuck in the elevator together,” Keeley explains to her brother, but her mouth suddenly twists. “Then, we bumped into Andrew.”

“I hate that guy,” Ezra mutters.

“I can’t say I was a fan, either,” I say under my breath before I can stop myself. Unfortunately, I don’t say it quietly enough, and Keeley shoots me a look.

I almost think she’s going to snap at me, but instead, she glumly mutters, “That makes three of us.”

The sight of her looking so downtrodden pulls at something within me.

It also serves as a reminder of why I don’t date. Not anymore, at least.

After Roisin walked out of my life last year, I took a break from all things relationship.

We dated for such a long time, I thought it was a given that we loved each other. But after my Gran died, something fundamentally shifted between us. I wasn’t making time for her as I picked up the pieces of my family and tried to be the glue that held the McCarthy clan together in Gran’s absence. I could feel myself pulling away from her. Could feel the wedge between us growing wider and wider. But I couldn’t stop it.

And so, she left me. I don’t blame her for leaving me.

I was closed off.

Distant.

Not good boyfriend material.

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