Pull At My Heart Page 20

  I glance at the bay that isn’t too far off, but is barely visible in the weather, as I think about how to broach this with him. We’re standing at opposite ends of the stone circle. He’s leaning back against the altar just watching me.

  Eventually, I find my voice. “Hey Eoghan, about last night.”

  He stiffens immediately, but doesn’t respond.

  “Thank you for taking care of me when I was sick. You didn’t have to do that, but of course you did, because you’re you…and so, thanks.”

  He nods his head and then leans back on his hands.

  “And about what happened at the bar.”

  “Kissing one another?” he asks in a deep voice.

  “Yeah, that,” I reply as blood rushes to my cheeks. “Well, I guess thanks for that, too. Obviously, we’re just friends, so I’m sorry that got out of hand like it did. I guess Halloween makes me crazy or something, so yeah. But I’m totally cool with it. It wasn’t a big deal to me, ’cause we’re friends, so you know it was fun. Minus the getting sick part, of course.”

  I’m babbling. I’m lying. But I hope he’ll understand that I’m totally cool with our little spell of lust. My goal now is to have everything return to normal.

  He doesn’t respond and he certainly isn’t amused. He just stares at me from across the circle.

  “Say something,” I request.

  “I’m not sure what to say, Juliana.”

  “Say I don’t have to move out.”

  He laughs and looks away, but I’m not sure why.

  “You’re not going to make me move out, are you?” I ask. My voice sounds small and distant, even to me.

  “No, of course not. You’ve said it yourself, many times—we’re friends.”

  I let out a huge sigh of relief.

  “Is that all that matters to you?” he asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The flat?”

  “No, not at all. I care about you, and the pub, and Dylan, and Ruth, and the life I’m building in Cork.”

  He considers that for a moment, but doesn’t say anything.

  “So, we’re friends, right?” I ask, but my heart isn’t in it. I just don’t want him to think that I expect a serious relationship out of him. I want him to know that I’m cool with what we did and then hopefully nothing will change.

  He nods slowly and then sticks his hands back in his pockets. “Get all the photos you need?”

  I take in the sight once again. “Yeah, I think so. Thank you so much for bringing me here, Eoghan.”

  “My pleasure, lass,” he says, and starts walking back toward the car.

  I follow behind him once again, but this time he doesn’t look back at me.

  When we get off the trail, we both stop in our tracks. The car is steamed up from the inside. The motion of two people making out is barely visible.

  “You cannot be serious,” I say.

  He shoots me a smart-ass look.

  “I mean, this is so not cool to Dylan. Doesn’t she see how much he loves her?”

  “It’s amazing the things people don’t see,” Eoghan mumbles and leaves me at the edge of the parking lot.

  Eoghan

  We couldn’t get to Baltimore quick enough after Drombeg. Between the backseat shenanigans of Ruth and Iain, and then what happened between me and Juliana at the stones, I need some space. I need to think.

  The band puts me to work carrying in the equipment and I’m more than happy to oblige. I barely even notice when the girls wander off to sightsee. Barely. The weather is total shite, so I’m not sure how much they can see. Baltimore is on the sea and the sea is very angry. It feels like we have that in common.

  The venue the lads are performing in tonight is a remodeled pub that has all that old Irish charm with modern touches. It has a very contemporary menu with a reconfigured front of the house to serve meals and provide good entertainment. You won’t find the usual pub grub here. I’m absolutely fascinated. Sure, I branch out every now and again with the menu at Murrough’s, but not by much. The pub just isn’t conducive to it as it stands today. Our kitchen isn’t set up for it, we don’t have the wait staff, and honestly, I don’t have the time right now.

  Not with my family troubles.

  And then I pause and just because I’m thinking of my family, I pull out my phone and check for any missed calls or messages. It’s freaking me out to be this far away from them today.

  There’s nothing from them, but there is a text from Juliana. A photo she took of herself, standing out on the pier in the middle of the storm. She looks feckin’ miserable, but adorable all the same.

  It’s so fucking cold, is all the caption says.

  I laugh a little and then can’t help myself, I download the photo and save it on my phone. I’m not sure if that’s what a friend would do or not. God, I’m beginning to hate that word. Friend.

  I decide not to respond. I just don’t know what to say to her right now that doesn’t come across as lovesick or heartbroken.

  Everything she said at the stones, and in the pub this morning, bubbles back into my brain. It hurts like absolute hell. I’ve got to wonder if she really means it. The way we are together, the ways she looks at me, the way we kissed—I’ve got to believe it means something to her. It certainly does to me. I’m tempted to just lay it all out for her, but I’m afraid to risk it. Afraid that she’ll run away and that would be worse than anything.

  We finish getting everything set up, then sit down and get a round of pints on the house.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, having this feeling of total dread that it’s Seán, but it’s not. It’s Juliana again. It’s another picture of herself, out near the bay with a wet face and windblown wild hair. The note says: Really fucking cold.

  I laugh a little and save the photo again, because if I’m being completely honest, she looks completely beautiful and for the millionth time since I’ve met her, I wish she was mine.

  The waitress that’s been serving us turns out to be one of the owners of this place. I get to chatting with her and I’m delighted that she knows about Murrough’s.

  “Sure, I’ve been there plenty of times. Always great craic.”

  “Glad to hear it. But really, this place is class. I heard you’ve hired on the chef that was cooking at Aisling in Cobh.”

  These days, County Cork is known as the food capital of Ireland. All the best chefs and best restaurants are stationed here. It fills me with pride and makes me wish I was a bigger part of that scene.

  “That’s right. It was quite a steal. I can introduce ya later, if ya like.”

  “That’d be grand,” I tell her, and my spirits are lifted for the first time all day.

  After a little while, I decide to check in with Seán since I’ve got this terrible feeling something’s going happen while I’m gone. He picks up on the fourth ring.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah, just catching up on some schoolwork.”

  “And Mam?”

  “Watching the telly. Why, what’s the craic?”

  “I made a last-minute decision to come down to Baltimore today with Liam and the lads.”

  “It’s quiet here, Eoghan. Have fun, boy.”

  “I will, ya.” Which is a very Cork way of saying that I won’t.

  “Jesus, Eoghan. We’re fine, I got this.”

  “Call me if anything happens.”

  “Of course,” he says, and then hangs up without even saying goodbye.

  Baltimore

  Julie

  Ruth and I are camping out in a cafe and drinking hot tea. It’s our little refuge from the elements. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so cold. I can’t stop shivering, but Ruth doesn’t seem all that bothered. In fact, she’s blatantly smitten as she blows the steam off her tea.

  I refrain from rolling my eyes, but can’t help asking, “Ruth, what on earth are you doing with Iain?”

  “Oh, it’s just good craic,” she s
ays and shrugs it off.

  “What about Dylan?”

  “What about him?”

  I lean over my cup. “It’s so obvious he has feelings for you.”

  “You don’t know Dylan well enough.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She shakes her head. “The only thing that lad cares about is the feckin’ pub.”

  “That’s not true. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

  “Well while you’re busy watching Dylan watch me, maybe you should stop and notice how Eoghan is watching you.”

  I scoff.

  “Oh no, you don’t get to sit here and tell me how it is, when you can’t even admit that you and Eoghan have feelings for each other.”

  My eyes flick to the ceiling, to the cash register, to the cup of tea in front of her, but nowhere near her eyes. “We’re friends. Nothing more. We confirmed that at the stone circle.”

  “You talked about it?”

  “Yes, we did,” I confess.

  “And?”

  “There’s not much to tell. I told him that kissing him wasn’t a big deal, and that we’re all good. Just friends and all that.”

  “And what did he say to that?”

  “Not much, really.”

  “I bet,” Ruth says and stares into her cup.

  “What?”

  Her eyes snap back up to mine. “He likes you, Julie.”

  “He likes everyone, Ruth. You’ve told me that much, several times.”

  “Yeah, but this is different. Trust me. He likes you.”

  “We’re roommates. We can’t like each other like that. It will get too weird.”

  “It’s already weird.”

  “No, it’s totally not weird.”

  “Really? The guy bends over backward for you all the time. I mean, can we talk about the fact that he built you a photography studio?”

  “He does lots of nice things for his friends.”

  She considers that for a beat. “True, but not quite like this. You know he’s here today because of you.”

  “What? No.”

  “Yeah, he usually never goes on trips like this. He likes to stay close to home.”

  “I know that, but…” I start, but I don’t know how to follow up on that.

  “You see him, right? You see how he is with you?”

  And I do. I really do, but it’s hard for me to accept that he’s treating me differently than his other friends. He’s got such a big heart, and would obviously do whatever he can for his friends and family. I love that about him. What I’m struggling to reconcile are those girls I’ve seen him flirt with. Sure, I’ve never witnessed him hook up with anyone in the pub, but one of the first things I ever learned about him is that he flirts and never gets serious with girls. Why on earth would I be any different?

  “You see him,” Ruth says when I don’t respond.

  And I shrug my shoulders. “I just don’t want to get hurt.”

  “Who does? I certainly don’t want him to get hurt, Julie, so let me ask you this. Do you like him?”

  That answer is so easy. Of course, he’s the greatest. My mouth opens to answer, but she cuts me off. “As more than a friend?”

  I look away and search my heart.

  “He’s obviously very attractive,” I start.

  She doesn’t respond, but her face says: Waiting, waiting, waiting for more.

  My eyes close briefly as I picture him and when I do, I’m flooded with images of our life together, of his kindness and his wit, of his smile, and his eyes as they meet mine, of his scent and his charm, his strength and his loyalty, and everything that makes him, him.

  “He’s my favorite person,” I say.

  “So…I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “It’s more complicated than that.”

  “But you want to feek him?”

  I laugh. “What?”

  “Get together with him? Have sex, ya know?” she says in a near whisper.

  “Jesus, Ruth,” I say and then laugh.

  “Well?” Ruth says, as if I’m wasting her time.

  “I mean, I’m definitely attracted to him, who wouldn’t be? Like, really…” I say and then start whispering, “He’s the best kisser ever and I would love to be with him or feek him, or whatever you weirdos say. Like, it’s sometimes all I can think about,” I say and shake my head. “The way he touches me in even the most innocent moments sets me on fire. It’s all I can do to not jump his bones every single day.”

  “So, then what’s the problem?”

  “Like I said, he’s my favorite person and I want him in my life. I’m not willing to mess all that up because of some uncontrollable lust issue I’m having.”

  “I repeat, what’s the problem?”

  “I’m worried that if we cross that line, everything will get all messed up and then, then…the worst happens.”

  “The worst?”

  “I have to say goodbye to the best friend I’ve made here, not to mention the life that I’ve started building.”

  “We’ll never say goodbye,” she says and squeezes my hand.

  “Thank you,” I tell her, and that does make me feel a little bit better.

  I take a long sip of my tea and we sit quietly for a little bit before it occurs to me. “Wait, you totally got us off track about Dylan.”

  She flashes a sly smile and then says, “I’m pretty good at that.”

  “Yeah you are. What’s the deal with the two of you?”

  “Well, I’m going to move to New York and he’s not. He’ll never leave Ireland. He won’t even leave Cork. I can’t be stuck here. So, what’s the point of starting anything with him when it will only end in heartbreak?”

  My mouth opens to make a counter argument, but from the way she’s frowning, I can tell she’s already heartbroken over it. It doesn’t matter what I say to her, so I don’t say anything more than, “I get it.” Because at the end of the day, I really do get it. Some relationships should never get started, because they are doomed to fail.

  After overstaying our welcome, which is practically impossible to do in Ireland, we rush back through a torrential downpour to the pub and find the guys sitting around having a drink.

  “Oh my God, it is coming down out there,” I say and wipe the water off my face.

  “Welcome to Ireland,” Liam jokes.

  “The wind, though,” I whine.

  Everyone has a laugh at my expense, except for Eoghan, who just smiles a little and looks down at his beer. His phone is sitting out on the table, so I know he’s seen my texts. I’m a little hurt he didn’t reply.

  There’s a couple empty seats at the table, and I take the one right across from him. It can’t be helped. I just gravitate toward the guy.

  “All set up?” Ruth asks and looks around.

  “Yeah, over there,” Iain answers and points over at the stage.

  “Wow, this pub is set up quite a bit differently than our pub back home,” I say.

  Eoghan’s eyebrows lift up and there’s a small smile there, I can just barely make it out. His eyes are shining.

  Whoa.

  Did I just call it home? I did. And did I just call it our pub? Jesus, I did. Well, it does sort of belong to all of us.

  I change the subject really fast. “So what are you guys gonna play tonight?”

  “All originals,” Liam answers joyfully.

  “Oh cool, off the new album?”

  “You got it,” he says, and opens a small box on the table with the discs in it.

  He hands me a CD and there it is, the cover photo I took. I beam with pride. It’s one of my favorite shots of the band, taken downstairs in the pub, doing pretty much what they’re doing now, sitting around talking with a drink in hand.

  “That’s class,” Ruth says. “I’ll work a table to sell them.”

  “Cheers,” Liam says.

  I notice Eoghan is studying a dinner menu with great interest.

  “Hungry?” he asks me without
looking up.

  “I could eat,” I say, simply happy that he’s talking to me somewhat normally. “What are you having?”

  He passes me the menu and says, “Scallops.”

  “Scallops at a pub, huh? That’s new.”

  “Yeah, check out the menu. They’ve got this really great chef here.”

  I study the menu and sure enough, it’s not the usual pub fare. There are braised ribs and beef filets, fish, pasta dishes. “Well, I think the scallops sound delicious.”

  Beneath the table, his knee bounces up and down and he taps his fingers against his pint glass.

  I smile at him and laugh a little to myself. My stoic Eoghan appears to be nervous.

  The waitress comes around and takes our orders.

  “We’ll both have the scallops, and can you get her a half pint of Murphy’s?”

  “Make that a Guinness,” I tell her and wink over at Eoghan.

  He shakes his head and laughs.

  “I like what I like,” I shrug, and then reach across to take a drink of his beer. “You’ve got a Murphy’s, I see.”

  “Read that off the glass, did ya?”

  I turn the glass and to check the logo.

  “I’m smart,” I answer and tap my temple.

  “That you are,” he says and smiles.

  I look back down at the album sitting in front of me and admire the photo. I’ve never really had anything used professionally before.

  “It’s a great shot,” Eoghan says. “You captured them in their natural habitat.”

  “I did. The shots up in the studio are also awesome. They said they’ll use them for publicity and their website.”

  “You’ve got a bit of talent, lass.”

  I smile, but kind of avert my eyes. It’s not always easy to take a compliment.

  “Ready to take on more jobs?”

  “And when would I do that, with my regular job?”

  He scratches his chin. “Fair play. How’s work going?”

  “Busy. We’re merging with another company and that adds such a huge layer of complexity to everything we do. Aiden is basically never in the office.”

  The corner of his mouth twitches and he sits up a little straighter in his chair. “What’s the situation with the two of you?” he asks tentatively. He’s barely able to meet my eyes.