Page 64 of One Chance to Stay
“Are you complaining?”
He scoffed and smirked.
“Is this a quick visit, or…”
True to form, Seamus didn’t speak. He reached back, shutting the door. I had my answer.
“Grace and Megan commandeered my living room.” His hands slid down my cheeks, along my neck, coming to a rest on my shoulders. “Musical sing-a-longs.”
“Dad needed some peace and quiet?”
“Something like that.”
I had been in plenty of relationships. I did the chasing, and if I was lucky, she’d let herself be caught. The same happened with Seamus. I went to him, determined. He had been the reluctant one. Or had he? Once the interactions began, I moved in response to him, letting him set the pace of our encounters.
Or so I thought.
My cheeks burned, and I’m sure everything above my neck turned red. Seamus chasedme? I had never been on the receiving end of a courtship. I didn’t know how to react, but I knew I liked it. The way Seamus watched me, it tied me in knots like never before.
“Were you busy?”
Thank God. When he broke eye contact, the butterflies went from a hurricane to a zesty breeze. He gestured toward the bed with his chin. I glanced over my shoulder, not pulling away from his hold on my shoulders.
“Oh, that? I was doing some research. You know, trying to figure out my life. It’s kind of the whole reason I came to Firefly. Unfortunately, I’ve been a bit…” —I gulped— “distracted.”
To my surprise, he let go, walking over to the bed and poking at the keyboard. The screensaver vanished, revealing the University of Maine’s requirements for their counseling program.
“Find any answers?”
“You don’t want to hear about my almost mid-life crisis. It’s a lot of chaos up here.” I tapped the side of my head. “I’ll get there, eventually.”
Seamus sat on the edge of the bed. When I didn’t move, he patted the spot next to him. Despite the lack of clothes, the situation lacked sexual tension. It bordered on comical, and someday, I’d look back and laugh at the ridiculousness.
“I’m not one for words.”
“You? I’d never know. You’re a regular chatty Cathy. Sometimes I think to myself, ‘Man, would Seamus ever stop talking?’”
The softness vanished as his face went slack. He didn’t need to scoff. It was implied.
“I’m good at listening.”
I wanted to say, “That’s my line,” but refrained. Sitting next to him, I debated on how much to share. At what point would he realize I didn’t have my shit together? Even if I started the process, I’d be juggling work and going back to school. When Seamus rested a hand on my leg, the fear faded.
“I’m realizing what I love about the bar is less about the bar and more about the people. I like helping them.” He squeezedmy leg in response. Yes, that included him. “It’s been a town-wide affair helping me figure out my life. Evelyn suggested something to do with social work or counseling. I like the idea. I don’t know what I’d do, not exactly. But I want to make a difference in people’s lives.”
“I know.”
I wish I knew the unspoken rules between us. Were we going to be a touchy pair? What’s the worst that could happen? I leaned against Seamus, resting my head on his shoulder. He didn’t pull away. That was a good sign.
“It’s kind of funny. You’re the reason I came to this conclusion.”
“Oh?”
“If I hadn’t met you, I wouldn’t have seen the photos of Grace. I wouldn’t have stopped her on the street and chatted with her. When she told me about her job, she was just so…”
“Happy.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t need to explain his pride in Grace. One word did the heavy lifting. It made him even sweeter.
