Page 12 of Twist of Fate
But she’s mine, and I wouldn’t trade her for anything.
“I’ve been to Ireland numerous times, so I’m a bit embarrassed to say I’ve visited most of the destinations on this tour,” my mom admits. “In fact, I think I might have even been on this tour before.” A few people chuckled. “But I booked it anyway, in hopes that Ash would finally join me. So I guess that’s what I’m looking forward to—spending time with my daughter.”
A few awws and stray claps fill the air as she takes a seat, and then the room falls silent while my mom looks at me expectantly. It takes me a moment to realize it’s my turn now. Right. Shit. My eyes dart around the room and happen to land on laid-back Finn as he casually leans against the weathered wood bar. One long, denim-clad leg draped over the other. Just waiting.
I feel my cheeks heat when he looks right at me.
He clearly remembers me from last night. Is he just going to pretend he doesn’t?
How am I supposed to survive a whole damn week crammed on a bus with this guy?
Ugh…
This is not the kind of vacation I envisioned…
“Hi,” I manage to eke out, my ass remaining firmly planted in my seat. “Um, I am not going to stand. Just want to put that out there.” A chorus of quiet laughter fills the room, which helps to calm my nerves. “My name is Aisling Farrell. Or Ash for short. I’ve been in Chicago for about a year after living in South Bend for college.”
Someone hollers their praise for the Fighting Irish. I laugh.
“Yes, I went to Notre Dame, but I am originally from Quincy—like my mom.” I try to remember what other question I was supposed to answer because I am definitely rambling. God, I hate being the center of attention. It’s probably a byproduct of having a mother who absolutely adores it. “Oh, what am I looking forward to?” I suddenly toss out, remembering the last question. “I’m going to be totally honest and say that I don’t actually know where we’re going—which I know sounds crazy. But I decided to go on this trip super last minute, so, at the moment, I’d have to say I’m mostly looking forward to the time away.”From everything.
I let out an exhausted breath as the focus of the room shifted to the next person down the line. As I listen to the older man introduce himself and his wife, I can’t help but feel eyes on me. Looking up, I notice right away that Finn is staring at me. He quickly turns away, shifting his attention toward the person speaking.
For the next thirty minutes or so, he never looks back.
Never makes eye contact.
Never acknowledges my presence.
It’s as if I finally found the invisibility cloak fromHarry Potterthat I so desperately wished existed when I was a kid and tossed it on. A few minutes ago, I was trying to figure out how to exist in the same space with him for the next week.
Well, apparently, I have my answer.
FOUR
Finn
PAST
It’s late, and I’m fucking wrecked.
I’ve been at this job for nearly two years, and I’ll never understand how a couple of hours of chatting up tourists can be more exhausting than a whole day on the rugby field.
And this new group is so fucking chatty.
Well, most of them, at least.
Stepping into my hotel room, I kick off my runners, empty my pockets on the small table by the window, and flop onto the queen-size bed fully clothed.
Just as my eyelids start to close, I hear my phone buzzing from across the room.
“Fucking hell,” I mutter under my breath.
Every bone in my body is screaming at me to let it go to voicemail, but since I’m technically on the clock all the damn time while on tour, I can’t. Groaning as I reach across the bed, I grab the phone and feel a grin spread across my face as soon as I see the caller ID.
“I didn’t expect to hear from you,” I say, bypassing any formal greeting. There’s no need after so many years of friendship.
“Well, considering I stepped out on you last night, I figured I at least owed you a phone call,” Rian replies.
