Pull At My Heart Read online

  Eoghan

  Juliana falls asleep in my arms and I don’t dare move. Having her here, nestled against me, feels too good. But it’s selfish and wrong and before I know it, guilt comes crashing down and I’m practically drowning in it. Guilt that I left Dylan and the crew down there to handle the absolute madness of Halloween. Guilt that I encouraged her to drink so much. Guilt that I went off the rails and got downright dirty with Juliana on the dance floor, like a man with no control.

  She’s snoring ever so slightly and I hold her to me a little closer.

  “Juliana?” I whisper.

  She doesn’t wake.

  “Juliana, love? Can you hear me?”

  Nothing.

  “I’m sorry I let this happen. It should have been different. Our first kiss should have been…”

  She stirs just a little bit, but continues to sleep.

  “It should have been perfect.”

  But that’s not right. Kissing her, no matter how shitty the circumstances are, was perfection. That kiss was everything I dreamed it would be, truly. Her taste, her tongue, her pretty rose lips that I got to pull between my teeth. Nothing comes close to how good she was, and nothing comes close to how much I want to do it again.

  She groans a little and I imagine she needs to lie down somewhere more comfortable. I get up off the floor and pick her up as gently as possible so that I don’t wake her. When we get to her room, I lay her down on her stomach in case she gets sick again.

  I take a seat at the foot of her bed and consider taking her dress off so she can be more comfortable, but that feels like a line I don’t have any right to cross with her, not yet. Yes, we kissed each other like it was the last night on earth, but we’re both drunk and she’s obviously much more drunk than I assumed. Who knows how she’ll feel about me in the light of day. I hold back from taking off her dress, or combing her hair, or even taking off her makeup.

  I stay there as long as I can possibly rationalize it, then leave her to go wash off my makeup before heading back down to the pub to help out.

  When I get there, the crowd has thinned out considerably. Everyone is in clean-up mode and I do my part. When Dylan gets a free moment, he pulls me aside.

  “How’s she doing?”

  “She was quite sick, but sleeping now,” I say, and pinch the bridge of my nose.

  “Should I have stopped you?” he asks.

  “No, I couldn’t be stopped.”

  “I’m sure I could have.”

  “No, you couldn’t,” I tell him. “I love her, mate.”

  He blinks a few times and starts to speak, but no words come out.

  “You heard me right,” I say.

  “I figured you just wanted to get her into bed. I had no idea it was that serious.”

  I let out a huge sigh. “I know. I sure didn’t plan any of this, but now that she’s a part of my life, I can’t bear to lose her.”

  “Then don’t,” he says, and pats me on the shoulder before heading back to work.

  Ruth circles around and asks after Juliana as well. I give her the update and then she gives me one of her point-blank stares.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Don’t mess this up, Eoghan.”

  “Trust me, I’m trying not to.”

  “I know you are,” she says, and then goes to work cleaning off the tables.

  Liam’s one of the last to go.

  “Hey mate, have a good night?” he asks.

  “It had its ups and downs,” I tell him.

  “Want to come to Baltimore tomorrow? We’ve got that gig at the new pub that opened up down there. You know, the one you were telling me about a few months ago, about how they stole some chef from Cobh.”

  “I know the place,” I say. I am a little more intrigued now, because this couple transformed their traditional old Irish pub into a gastropub that’s getting rave reviews.

  “Come on. The more the merrier. Plus, we could really use another car.”

  “There it is,” I tell him as I finish putting chairs up on the tables.

  “But, you know it’s a big gig for us. I’d love to have you,” he says and then a little quieter, adds, “Plus, Julie’s coming.”

  “She is?” This is news to me.

  “Yeah, I asked her to come along and take photos.”

  “Oh,” is all I can say. And I suddenly feel like that thread that connects me to Juliana will be stretched too far with her going away like that. Especially after what happened tonight. I know there’s a thousand reasons why I should stay put, but I want to be near her. Dylan is dog-tired. I don’t remember the last time the man had a day off. We made bank tonight. It wouldn’t be the end of the world to be closed one day.

  “Dylan,” I yell over at him. “We’re closed tomorrow. Go see your family.”

  “But,” he starts to protest.

  “No buts. It’s happening. I’m going to Baltimore.”

  “Whatever you say, boss,” he says and then yawns so big, I know I’ve made the right decision.

  When I get back upstairs, I check on Juliana. She’s still in the same position and still sleeping soundly. I can’t bring myself to leave her alone, so I lie down as gently as possible next to her. The feckin’ bed creaks so loudly that she stirs.

  “Eoghan?” she slurs.

  “Ssh, ssh, ssh, it’s okay. Go back to sleep, lass.”

  “Shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have…” she says in her sleep.

  And I feel like I’ve been stabbed. She already regrets it. I close my eyes for just a moment and try to wish it away.

  “Shouldn’t have…” she says one more time, as if to twist the knife.

  And that’s all it takes. I get up off the bed and move down to the floor. I stay there for a long time, watching her sleep as I try to hold on to some sliver of hope that maybe she’s just dreaming.

  Three Thousand Years

  Julie

  My boobs.

  The radiating pain is enough to wake me up. Sleeping in a corset will do that. My boobs aren’t the only thing to hurt. No. Not even a little bit. There’s my head. My ribs. And my lips.

  My lips.

  Tentative fingers trace over my lips as I remember why they are so swollen. Eoghan. We kissed and kissed and kissed some more. And then I got sick.

  My eyes close and I cringe from the embarrassment of it all.

  Somehow, I find the strength to get myself out of bed and then make the disastrous mistake of glancing over at the mirror.

  “Oh!” I flinch at my reflection.

  The Catrina makeup is blotchy and smeared all over my face, like some deranged murderous clown. My hair is a crazy mess, reminiscent of Lydia’s in Beetlejuice, and my red gown is so crumpled I resemble a stomped-on tomato. The day of the dead might be tomorrow, but it’s in full effect in my bedroom today. My departed loved ones must me so disappointed in me.

  There’s a light tap at the door. “Lass?”

  I spin around and mentally will Eoghan not to come in. I’m not ready to see him, especially looking like death warmed over.

  “Yeah,” I croak out. My mouth and throat are as dry as a communion wafer.

  “You up?”

  “Yeah,” I repeat, staying absolutely still, as if that will make him go away.

  “We’re leaving in about an hour for Baltimore.”

  “Wait, what? You’re coming with us?”

  “Yeah,” he says through the door with no further explanation.

  “Oh,” I whisper. I didn’t plan on Eoghan being there, so now there’s no escape from the awkward situation that awaits us.

  “Okay, then. I’ll be downstairs,” he says and I hear him stomp away.

  “Jesus,” I mumble, and put my fingers to my temples. This is happening.

  I go to work getting out of my gown, which takes considerable effort and additional rib pain. I’m definitely meant to suffer for last night’s sins.

  When my breasts are finally set free, I moan
in sweet relief. Nothing feels better than that…except for Eoghan’s mouth on mine.

  Shit.

  I’m in deep trouble.

  I tell myself to pull it together. I slip on a robe, slow march across the flat into the bathroom, and take one of the longest showers of my life. Finally, I start to feel a little more human.

  Once ready, I pack my camera bag and grab my heavy rain jacket, then head down to the pub. The whole band is there, sitting at their usual table, drinking coffee and having a good laugh. Eoghan’s sitting there with them, and I gulp at the sight of him.

  Here we go.

  “There she is,” Liam says.

  Everyone turns to look at me, including Eoghan. Our eyes lock and my heart thumps hard. There’s a small spark there and I’m relieved. Maybe he doesn’t totally regret hooking up last night. I drink him in. He’s wearing a blue plaid flannel shirt, ragged jeans, and brown boots. His hair is still a little wet around the edges and his face is clean-shaven.

  “Here I am,” I finally respond, and everyone stands up with their mugs and starts getting ready to go. Eoghan watches me closely as he moves about the pub.

  “Hey Julie, are you well?” Ruth asks from behind me. She’s holding her purse and jacket. I had no idea she was coming with us. Relief floods me for the second time that day. I need a buffer and she’s absolutely perfect. Not forgetting to mention that she is a blast to be around.

  “Hey Ruth, I didn’t know you were coming, too.”

  “Iain asked me to come along.”

  Iain is the drummer, a tall redheaded man with a prominent nose and killer arms. We both look over at him and he winks in Ruth’s direction.

  Uh-oh.

  This development doesn’t sit quite right, since I’m clearly on Team Dylan. Although, as his biggest cheerleader, I have to admit that he isn’t doing a great job of making his move.

  Instinctively, I check to see if Eoghan is witnessing this. He doesn’t seem to notice Iain or Ruth, but he’s looking right at me with those fierce hazel eyes that slay me. His gaze is as intense as ever and it makes me fidget.

  Ruth leans over and whispers, “We have to ride together, so we can talk about what happened last night.”

  “Nothing happened last night,” I answer too quickly. As if she wasn’t a firsthand witness to our crazy make-out session.

  “Right,” she says, and laughs like I just told her the funniest joke in the world. “So, when nothing happened last night, was it good?”

  A blush rises to my cheeks and I push a strand of hair behind my ear. I can’t answer that question out loud. Of course it was good. It was one of the best kisses—if not the best kiss—I’ve ever experienced.

  “After the nothing happened and you went upstairs, did you get sick?”

  “Oh yeah,” I reply. “It was ugly. Basically, puked my guts out forever and then passed out. You should have seen the aftermath this morning. I couldn’t have looked more jacked up.”

  “Eoghan take good care of you?”

  I bite my lip and nod. He was kind to me in that department, but his last words of the night are still haunting me. Something about how he never should have done something—most likely he meant he shouldn’t have kissed me. I’m worried he regrets it.

  I glance back over at him and he’s talking to Liam. He glances my way and catches me staring at him. I quickly snap back to Ruth and she immediately starts to giggle.

  “What?” I ask her.

  “The two of you.”

  “There’s nothing to it, Ruth. It was just a random hookup. You know, like he probably does with all those girls he flirts with at the bar.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Ruth asks, and crosses her arms over her chest.

  “Yeah. That kiss didn’t mean anything. I was blowing off steam and he was there.”

  Ruth’s eyes grow super wide and her nostrils flare as she peers over my shoulder.

  I don’t have to look behind me to know that Eoghan is there. I can feel him and I can feel how fucking stupid I am for saying something so crass. Something that’s such an obvious lie.

  “Hi,” I say quietly, hoping he didn’t hear it all.

  He stares down at me, his jaw tight, his eyes narrow. My gaze flickers to his lips and I’m lost for a moment, remembering how they felt.

  “Hi,” he repeats back to me and then chews on those same lips. Jesus. “I came to fetch ye.”

  “Oh?”

  “You two will be coming with me and Iain in the taxi.”

  “Oh?” I repeat again and swallow hard.

  He nods once and then turns around and heads for the door.

  Ruth grips on to me and whispers, “Well, this should be interesting.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, I’m telling ya, Ruth.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “Believe it.”

  I look over at Eoghan, on the driver’s side, to see if he’s getting as annoyed as I am at the circular conversation happening in the backseat. He doesn’t react at all.

  “Well, I for one would have loved to see ya step dancin’ in yer wee waistcoat, Iain,” Ruth says.

  “I was quite dapper at six.”

  “Do you still know the moves?”

  “How could I forget?”

  And then they both fall into a pile of laughter.

  I gape at Eoghan, wanting him to join me in my outrage at the ridiculousness behind us. He stares straight forward, not wavering in the slightest.

  Fucking perfect.

  Ruth and Iain keep at it while I slump down in my seat. Dealing with these flirting idiots in the back isn’t nearly as bad as dealing with icicle Eoghan. The trip is turning out to be nothing less than miserable. It’s not supposed to be this way. It should be fun and carefree and a little bit amazing, but I had to go and mess it up by getting drunk off my ass and frisky with the best friend I’ve made in Ireland.

  I assume he probably regrets it as much as I do. I can imagine that in his previous experience, he didn’t live with the girls he might hook up with. I’m not that simple, no. I’m still here and I’ll continue to be here tomorrow and the day after that.

  Unless I’m not. What if Eoghan wants me to move out? I squeeze my hands together and shut my eyes. I don’t want to move to Ballycoom. I don’t want to be away from him.

  I open my eyes and stare out the window. To make matters worse, it’s damp, gray, and cold. The beauty of southwest County Cork is lost to the elements. It looks like the only thing I’ll get to photograph is the band at their show.

  I’m so mired down in my self-pity that I almost miss Eoghan looking over at me as we hit a straight stretch of road. When I look his way, he looks forward once again and I sigh. I miss him. I miss us.

  “Want to see something?” he asks quietly, and I know he’s speaking only to me.

  “Sure,” I say without hesitation.

  Without another word, he flips his blinker on and turns off the main road into the village of Rosscarbery.

  We drive around the harbor and then through the town itself and into the country a little ways. That’s when Iain and Ruth notice.

  “Where we going?” Ruth asks.

  “Drombeg,” Eoghan answers.

  “I haven’t been there in ages,” Iain says.

  The pair go back to chatting, seemingly unimpressed.

  “What’s Drombeg?” I ask.

  “You’ll see, lass,” Eoghan says while keeping his eyes on the narrow road.

  There isn’t much for me to see, besides gray fog. We finally arrive at a small parking lot. Beyond it a gravel path bordered by big hedges.

  Eoghan shuts off the car and gets out. I grab my camera bag and do the same.

  “Are you coming?” I ask Ruth.

  “It’s too cold. We’ll stay here,” she replies and turns toward Iain, who has a wicked smile on his face.

  I roll my eyes and shut the door.

>   Eoghan is already at the edge of the path and I trot a few steps to catch up with him. I follow him closely through the fog and mist, staring at the backside of him, admiring his height, his stature, his confidence. He looks like he belongs here, traipsing through the Irish countryside, as if the land is his to show me.

  He looks back at me with a tight jaw and I catch the glint in his eye. His thick dark hair is messy from the breeze and I want to put my hands into it and feel it between my fingers. He turns back and keeps going forward while I wonder what Drombeg even means. We’re in the middle of nowhere and I have no idea what we’re walking toward.

  Finally, we turn a corner and I gasp. Off in the mist on a rolling hill is an ancient stone circle. I know things like this exist in England and Scotland, but I never thought I’d see one here, and certainly not today.

  “Eoghan…” I start.

  He turns around to face me and puts his hands into his jacket pockets.

  “This is incredible,” I finish. “How old is it?”

  “Roughly three thousand years old. It’s also known as the Druid’s Altar.”

  I nod my head as I study one of the stones that looks a lot like an altar.

  “I’ve never seen anything as old as this,” I confess as I approach the circle.

  The stones range in height and shape. I count seventeen in all. I weave between them, unable to resist the temptation to touch each stone as I pass.

  Eoghan hangs back and watches as I study them from the inside of the circle and then the outside.

  “Why?”

  “Why what, lass?” he asks, and crosses his arms over his chest.

  I consider his question. It’s as if he knows that I want to know. More about the stones and more about why he brought me here. He didn’t have to do this. There’s so much he hasn’t had to do for me, but he has.

  Keeping it simple, I opt to ask, “Why did they make stone circles?”

  He lets out a breath and then shrugs his shoulders. “You know, all that solstice craic.”

  His answer makes me laugh. I know exactly what he means.

  After taking it all in, I get out my camera and start to shoot. The lighting is a little tricky to adjust to at first, but then I find my groove and get lost in it. Eoghan, as always, is patient but a little too quiet for my liking. There’s an edge between us, a tension since last night.