Page 100 of Tempting Irish
Chapter 30
Bree
“You sureyou’re doing the right thing?” Chris asks, moving down the aisle and sitting in the empty seat next to me. “I mean, hell, I’m a guy, and I’m not sure I’d turn down thatproposal.”
I press my knuckles to my mouth, trying to hold back the tears seekingrelease.
“It wasn’t a proposal.” My voice cracks on the lastword.
He shrugs. “Sounded like one tome.”
“How pathetic would I be if I decided to stay? Think about it. Girl moves to a foreign country for some guy she barely knows, who then dumps her three months later. Then, she’s left with nothing but a shattered heart. You’ve heard the story before. It never ends well. At least, not for thegirl.”
“Ah, a true romantic,” he teases, one eyebrowcocked.
“No. I’m just a realist.”Or an idiot. I haven’t decided whichone.
“A realist who just dumped a rock star in front of a hundred people. I wouldn’t be surprised if the video’s already goneviral.”
I groan and close myeyes.
He had someone dig into my past. Despite all his words that I was family, he didn’t trustme.
All I wanted was to come home. To see my family. To know if there was still a place for me here. And I’d been foolish enough to cling to the hope that Owen might finally seeme.
He did,my heart demands, pushing through myinsecurities.
Those moments between us; they werereal.
In his own way, I don’t doubt Owen cares aboutme.
But it’s notenough.
Love never is.At least, not in myexperience.
The plane starts to reverse, and the flight attendant goes through his memorized monologue about what to do if wecrash.
I slump in my chair and look out the small window, wishing Chris would leave me alone with my thoughts. But he keepstalking.
“Damn. I still can’t believe you turned him down.” He seems somewhat in awe of me, finding way too much pleasure in Owen’shumiliation.
My heart throbs painfully, still slightly blinded by the lie that Owen and I could somehow work—that we fit together, like two broken pieces of apuzzle.
“Better to end things before someone gets hurt,” I mutter, thatsomeonebeingme.
Chris gives me a lopsided grin. “You can’t be lost on a road that’s straight,right?”
“What?”
He shrugs. “It’s a proverb my grandfather used to say. If you know where you’re going, it’s hard to get lost. Seems like you know what youwant.”
Yeah, Owen. Ireland. Home. All the dreams I’m leavingbehind.
But I know that’s not what he means. “And what do you think Iwant?”
Chris leans towards me, smirking. “Here we are. On the same plane. Maybe it’s fate.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me, a cocky grin pulling one side of his mouthup.
“I don’t thinkso.”
