Page 51 of Since We're Here
“Perfect.” I tap it into my phone.
Ian goes on to list other things for us to see in Belfast, but my mind wanders and my eyes flit to the striking goalkeeper standing a few feet away, talking to a man who might be from the soccer team. Patrick lifts his pint to his mouth and his arm muscles ripple. I wonder if he’s got any tattoos under that tight black shirt? A sigh escapes my lips. I’m sure I won’t find out.
Cara and Liam are no longer in view. I’m hoping they left, that Cara made the group go after seeing me kiss Patrick. I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe Liam and Cara are siblings.
Patrick looks over at me, the other man still talking and waving a hand around, and he holds my gaze for a second longerthan acceptable before turning away. The connection buzzes between us.
My heart squeezes and warmth floods my chest. How could anyone leave him? Cheat on him?
I’m in so much trouble.
I’ve known him for such a short time, but I’m feeling things I should not let myself feel. A kiss at a pub while on vacation is one thing. Even sex with a random Irishman would be okay. But letting myself feel anything for Patrick? That’s a dangerous move.
I can’t let myself make that mistake.
Ian excuses himself to follow Saoirse to the bar, but I hardly notice him go.
The room is hazy, and I decide the best thing I can do for myself is leave, before I do something stupid like make out with Patrick again. I stand and slide past him. He looks at me with questioning eyes and I gesture toward the bar, not telling him I’m leaving, suspecting he might not let me.
I slip out of the pub and into my front door twenty seconds later. My flat is a billion degrees—again. I strip down to my underwear and wiggle out of my bra, leaving on the tank top, before downing a tall glass of water and pain meds to fend off a hangover. I lie on the couch and scroll mindlessly on my phone until my eyes grow heavy.
Some amount of time later, I hear keys jangling in the lock. Not the front door, though.
I shoot up from the couch and spin to the other door. It’s the door that I’ve never opened before, the one I don’t have keys to.
The one that leads to the pub.
13
PATRICK
Ihaven’t been this drunk in years.
I usually stop at two or three, max. I can’t run a business, take care of my parents, and be there for my sister if I’m drunk or hungover all the time.
But between Saoirse—the sister I’m supposed to be helping—and Ian buying drinks, Cara showing up, and Maddie fecking kissing me... I’m a mess.
I stumble to the Jacks down the dark hallway—where I kissed Maddie the first time. After relieving myself, I trip back out into the hallway and my shoulder hits the doorframe, catching me from falling on my arse.
Where is she?I lean against the cool wood wall for a moment. I was half hoping to find her here, waiting for me.
I am so tempted to let myself go with her.
Logically, I know it would never work. Not only because she’s leaving, but because of who I am.
I’m wrecked.
Time to go home and sleep this off. I run my hand down my face. Luckily, the door to my flat is right here, and the keys are in my pocket. Brilliant. I unlock the first door, which leads to thesteep, dark staircase up to my flat. The door shuts behind me and the noise of the bar immediately dims. A sensor kicks off a low light, but I fumble with the torch on my mobile anyway and climb up the stairs. Aye—leaving the pub is the right thing to do. I need to sleep this off.
It takes me five tries to get the key into the lock.
And the moment the door swings wide to reveal the living space, I realize what I’ve done.
This is not my flat.
Well. Itis, but I’ve rented it out.
To Maddie Hart.
