Breakaway (23 page)

Erin pushed him back down into his seat. “You’re so annoying.”

“I know. But seeing as how I saved you and your best friend, I think the least you can do is give me a little kiss.”

Erin leaned over, aiming for his cheek, but Rory pushed his chair back so he was out of range. “Oh, no, no, no. Not one of those chaste Catholic school kisses.” He smiled wickedly. “I’m talkin’ a real kiss.”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that already.” Erin knew she wasn’t going to win this one.
Well, it’s nothing,
she thought, a quick skim of her mouth over his and she’d be done. She paid her bill. Rory was waiting for her at the caf door, looking all smug as he held it open for her. Twit.

“Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” Erin said briskly as she started up the street.

Rory made a serious face. “Oh. I agree completely. It’s a horrible chore. The sooner it’s done, the better.”

Halfway down the street, Erin realized she had no idea where she was heading to. Well, Rory Brady would just have to forget about his kiss.

He pointed across the street at a fish and chips shop.
“Maybe they’ll let us use their basement. Nothing more romantic than locking lips surrounded by bushels of spuds.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Rory shook his head disappointedly. “I can’t believe you’ve forgotten.”

“Forgotten what?”

“Come on.”

He took Erin’s hand, twining his fingers through hers. He’d always been a good hand-holder, Rory, his grip firm and protective.

It all started coming back to Erin as they approached the jewelry store where she used to work. The alley. The long, narrow, brick alley between the jewelry store and the tobacconists next door. She couldn’t count the number of times they’d snogged there, especially when they were teens.

“Remember now, do you?” Rory asked, leading her down the alley.

He stopped at the end, casually leaning up against the wall with his hands deep in the front pockets of his faded jeans like he was some bad boy, his expression one of cool composure.

“You think you’re some kind of rock star, don’t you?” Erin’s sarcasm was purely a cover for the exquisite anticipation sparking inside her.

“C’mere.”

Rory held out his hand. Erin hesitated, pretending the last thing she wanted was to be in his arms but was somehow managing to force herself. She squirmed. He was holding her too tight, then not tight enough. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” she said with a huff. “Because if you think you’re going to get anything beyond a simple—”

Her sentence was swallowed up by a rough kiss. It was familiar, yet gloriously new. Erin hadn’t realized she’d parted her lips until Rory’s tongue touched hers. She knew this taste. The technique. And then, where a few seconds ago her senses had been adrift, she realized what she was doing and who she was doing it with, and jerked her mouth from his.

“There,” she said, trying to regain the upper hand. “You got your kiss, now let’s go back to Ballycraig.”

Rory looked genuinely bemused. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Do you really need to ask that?”

“Yeah. I’m thick. Tell me.”

Erin tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe, just maybe, I’m afraid of getting my teeth kicked in again. Just maybe, mind.”

“How long do you want me to keep groveling? Forever? Because if that’s what you want, so help me God, I will.”

“Don’t. This has been madness, me getting rides from you. What was I thinking?”

She made her way back onto the sidewalk, tears stinging her eyes. What must he think of her? Stupid Erin, so- easy-to-manipulate Erin.

“Where’re you going?” Rory followed, keeping pace with her. It felt like a bad déjà vu.

“Where’d ya think? To catch the bus.”

Rory groaned. “Don’t be ridiculous. I swear I’ll never touch you again, all right? Or put you in a position where you have to kiss me. Okay?”

Erin wasn’t buying it. “Really.”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s just forget this happened.”

Rory looked angry. “You know what, Erin? I’m tired of pretending things never happened. Things are happening, and for a reason, too. You still love me. But here you are, wasting all this precious time we could be together.”

Erin turned on him. “Until when? When you leave at the end of the summer and dump me?”

Rory’s whole body was tense with frustration. “I’m not going to dump you. I love you. I didn’t come back here for my gran. You know that. Everyone knows that. I came back here for you. Everyone deserves a second chance, don’t you think?”

“You’re doing my head in, Rory. Truly.”

“Isn’t that a sign you care?”

“You have to back off,” Erin said testily. “I need to think.”

“Of course.”

She wasn’t looking at him, but she could feel his elation: it felt like bright, golden beams directed right at her. “I’m going to take the bus back to Ballycraig. Like I said, I need space right now. To breathe. You’ve no need to wait with me.”

“I understand.”

He walked her over to the bus stop, then gave her one of those chaste Catholic school kisses he’d mocked earlier. She watched him go, a little bounce in his step despite the chilly drizzle that was starting to fall. So sure of himself. Cocky bastard.
Don’t put the cart before the horse, mister,
Erin thought.

Erin had the entire bus ride back to Ballycraig to think about Rory. She tried puzzling it out as if it were a math equation.
You like Rory’s kiss, ergo you still like Rory. You gab with him like you’re old pals, ergo you still like Rory. You sort of like being fought over, ergo you still care about Rory, because you always want him to win. You’re afraid of letting your heart loose again, because you live in mortal terror Rory will crack it into a million tiny bits, ergo he affects you, ergo you still love him, ergo goddamn ergo.

Erin tried to imagine what it would feel like taking him back. Would it feel like coming home, or would it feel like stepping off a cliff?

It was close to five when she got home. Five meant doing the laundry and making up the beds. But not tonight.

“Well, look what the cat’s dragged in,” her mother said, not without affection, when Erin walked into the kitchen. “And where have you been, if your own mother is allowed to ask?”

“In Crosshaven. I found the woman who’s going to replace me. Her name’s Diana Everett and she’s got loads of experience. I think you’ll like her.”

The stillness was killing. Erin had never seen someone’s face turn so red so fast. Red as a fire truck, it was, with the purple veins faintly pulsing in her mother’s temples taking the place of the flashing lights.
Well, I warned her.

Her mother seemed to be cemented to the spot beside the open dishwasher. “Mam?”

“How dare you? How bloody dare you?”

Erin’s hackles went up as soon as her mother said “bloody.” Her mother rarely, if ever, cursed.

“I told you ages ago I wasn’t going to be here for good,” Erin pointed out calmly. “I also told you that if you didn’t start interviewing people yourself, I would do it.”

“You’ve no right!”

“And you’ve no right to keep me on here months and months! I’ve been a good sport about this! No—more than a good sport! I’ve been a wimp. So don’t start giving me the old rubbish about loyalty! Most parents would want their children to go out into the world and do what makes them happy.”

“I just want to protect you, Erin!”

“Protect me or hinder me?” Erin took a deep, frustrated breath. “Look, just because I want to go out and do things doesn’t mean I don’t love you or that I’ll never come home. That’s silly.”

Her mother looked smug. “Have you figured out yet where exactly it is you’re going?”

“Yes. Away. You have to be willing to take chances in life.”

“I’m all for taking chances—”

“You aren’t—”

“If you’ve got a sensible plan in place.”

“I do have a plan.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m finishing up my degree online.”

“Online?”

“Yeah, on the computer. The one I’d been doing in bits and pieces. That’s what I’ve been doing upstairs: studying. Art history.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I thought you’d knocked that thought out of your head,” her mother said, looking appalled.

“Why would I do that?”

“I just thought it was something you were doing to keep yourself occupied while Rory wasn’t here. That once you got married, you’d drop the whole thing.”

“I did. For a while. But when I was right in the head again, I thought: ‘I want to do it, and I need to do it, so I’m doing it.’”

“And there’s hundreds of jobs waiting out there for you, sure,” her mother drawled.

“No,” Erin replied with a defiant tilt of the chin. “But I’ll work till I find one.”

“Doing what?”

“I’ll work at a B and B,” she said dryly. “God knows I’ve got more than enough experience.”

“And when will you be leaving to start this mad idea of yours?”

“I don’t know exactly.”

“But until then—”

“Until then, you’ll be meeting Diana Everett on Thursday. I’m going to show her the ropes Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. She can start next Monday. I told her she’ll have Sundays off, as is customary. I also asked around to find out what a decent wage is, and that’s what you’ll be paying her.”

Her mother was flabbergasted. “You can’t do this.”

“Then you find someone else between now and Thursday,” Erin replied with a shrug. She walked out of the kitchen, her heart rapping against her ribs. There. She’d done it. And with any luck, it wouldn’t be undone. But with her mother, you never knew.

*   *   *

It had been a dead ballsy thing to do. Then again, Rory had never lacked for balls.

The lip-lock in the alley with Erin left him frustrated. Two steps forward, one step back.
More like four steps back,
he thought ruefully. He knew she still cared. To even say to him, “I need space,” proved that. It was a helluva long way from, “Leave me alone, Rory.” One of the hard things about it was the time being wasted. If they got back together now, they could enjoy the rest of the summer together. If they hadn’t mended things by the time he had to go back to New York, he didn’t know what the hell he’d do. The only person he could think of to help him out was Sandra. If that wasn’t a testament to his desperation, nothing was.

Standing at Sandra’s door, he was happy to find himself face-to-face with LJ, even if LJ did look a bit apprehensive.

“Hey, mate. How’s it going?”

“All right,” LJ said suspiciously.

“Is your mam home?”

“Yeah.” He looked worried. “Did I do something wrong?”

“’Course you didn’t. Why on earth would you think such a thing? I just need to talk to her about Erin, is all.”

LJ ushered him into the chaos of his home. Lucy wasn’t there, thank Christ. Last time Rory had seen her, she was sitting outside the Oak with a gaggle of friends. They were passing around a cig, thinking they looked so sophisticated.

Oona was nowhere in sight, either, which disappointed him a bit. Last time he’d seen her, she was all sharp elbows and knobby knees, prone to mad fits of giggling. A terrifically smart thing, she was madly in love with Nicky Byrne of Westlife. Made sense: she was a little girl, and little girls liked crap music.

Reggae music was blasting away in the kitchen as the stomach-rumbling scent of frying chips wafted his way. Second best smell in the world, the first being the soft scent of Erin’s skin.

“I’ll tell mam you’re here.”

“Ta, LJ.”

He’d barely had a chance to look round before Sandra appeared in front of him, her eyes cold as marble.

“Hiya, Sandra.”

Sandra nodded curtly. “Rory.”

“I was wondering if I might have a word.”

“C’mon,” she said stiffly. LJ started walking into the kitchen with them but stopped when Sandra lightly touched his shoulder. “Just grown-ups for now, all right, love?”

LJ’s shoulders sank, but he obeyed his mother and sulked his way back into the living room, his face a pout. Rory winked at him; that seemed to cheer him a bit.

In the kitchen, he was shocked by the sight of a pink-cheeked, black-haired toddler sitting in a booster seat at the table, happily chomping away on mash and peas. He knew San had had another baby, but this was the first time he’d actually seen her.