Page 6 of Irish Fire and Forbidden Love
She gestured toward my trousers, and I obliged. Really, I should just throw them away, but the rest of my clothes were back at my hotel, so I folded them carefully and stood, bracing myself and closed my eyes, but the water wouldn’t come.
I opened my eyes to see Maeve looking at me, brow furrowed.
“Are you alright?” I asked.
She nodded at my left calf to my tattoo— lyrics from one of my favorite songs, “Angelica.”
“Wet Leg is one of my favorite bands. That song is actually what got me into music,” she said.
“Yeah, Wet Leg is great. I got this tattoo when I was in a band about fifteen years ago. When I played drums more often. What do you play?” I asked.
She blushed, then shook her head. “Oh, I don’t play anymore.”
Before I could ask more, she’d switched on the hose and the sudden shock of cold silenced my brain to anything else. I gasped, and shuddered, but when she stopped, I shook my head.
“Keep it coming.”
I ignored the chill in my bones, then picked up the soap and washed. It wasn’t exactly a shower, and I wasn’t exactly naked, but I could’ve been for how vulnerable Maeve’s eyes made me feel. It was like she was inspecting me. Studying me, like Iwas some frog in a biology class; she opened me up and poked around my insides.
The water stopped, and Maeve said, “You’re freezing.” She threw a towel over me. “I’ve got a shower upstairs on a separate water tank. You can warm up with that.”
I wanted to argue because I didn’t need her help. After all, I had a perfectly good hotel shower calling my name— in a room where I had clean clothes. Normally, people relied on me. It was why I’d been happy to fix up Maeve’s wall. Between my brother and I, I was the one who fixed things. Got everything back to working order. It was because of me that when we bought a business or property that the place worked.
But without much more than soaking underwear on, I wasn’t exactly in a spot to negotiate, so I followed her up a set of rickety steps and toward a big thick wooden door, one I wouldn’t be surprised was older than the bar downstairs.
Maeve led me through her apartment and into a small bathroom. “The water is a little wonky. If you want hot, you’ll need to switch the faucet to cold. Let me know if you need anything.”
She closed the door behind her, and I was left standing in the bathroom, shivering.
It took me a moment to switch on the water, and even longer to step inside as I waited for the shower to heat up. When it did, I stripped myself of boxers and the towel and stepped within the welcoming embrace of warmth. I washed myself slowly, letting both the day and the trip wash off me.
And the responsibility of what I needed to do next, despite how much I disliked it.
Chapter 3
Maeve
Eliza was on the ground,cleaning up Rory’s mess. She’d pulled her hair back and put on a pair of headphones. She didn’t notice me until I came right up to her, startling her so bad one of her earphones popped out and into the brown mess.
“Oh god, I’ll pay you back for that?—”
Eliza sighed and picked it up. She shrugged and dropped both buds on a dry towel, then went back to hand mopping the floor. “They were yours anyway.”
I ignored that, and said, “I was planning to clean up.”
She chuckled and continued to scrub. “Someone’s gotta do it before it dries, and I don’t think you’re going to have much time for that.” She looked at the stairs leading up to my apartment. That was fresh coming from her. Eliza had a string of boyfriends that were at her beck and call. And there was always another one. Sometimes two or three would meet Eliza at the bar and leave with her. She led one of the freest lives, and yet, I was the one being lectured?
“I’m not paying you later than your normal shift,” I said dryly.
She stiffened at that but didn’t say anything. I left the hall, grabbing the spare clothes I kept just in case a bartender spilled something on their shirt or trousers, then headed back upstairs.
I hated this gnawing annoyance for Eliza because it nearly ruined the feeling I had of Rory in my place, like I should have been worried, and not excited about a naked man in my apartment. I made my way back up the stairs and sat on my living room couch.
The window beside the couch was ultimately why I picked this place. It overlooked the shimmering Corrib River, the one that swept right through the city. During the weekends, a market sprouted up around the canal. I could watch people passing by for hours and never get bored. Though it was the evening shimmer that sold the deal. Like tiny crystals, the lake became a treasure trove, and it was all for me.
There was a knock on the bathroom door, and then I heard Rory’s voice call out, “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have an extra pair of pants or something, would you?”
I jumped up from my seat and rushed over to the cracked open door where a shadow lurked and steam slithered out. I held out the clothes. “They’re not much, but better than what you were wearing.”
