Chapter 2 #2
A scoff, this time from Fraser, who had straightened up in annoyance. Not at her, she knew, but for her. “A job isn’t a treat, Eiley, even if you enjoy it. C’mon. Give it a chance. You’ll have fun with Harp and Cam.”
“Think of all the time you’ll have to read,” Cam urged. “They might even have an old library or something there.”
That caught Eiley’s attention. She could usually only read once the kids were in bed. Having a whole weekend …
“We want you to come. This book wouldn’t exist without my best beta reader.” Harper’s lower lip jutted in plea now, hands clasping together. “ Please? ”
Eiley couldn’t say no, her chest filling with warmth at the thought that, despite her low moods and general quietness, they still wanted to spend the weekend with her.
Because they feel bad for you , a bitter voice in the back of her mind said – but it didn’t belong to her.
Its rasp was all Finlay’s, and she had learned not to listen to it anymore.
“Okay,” she agreed, reluctance still fringing the word. “Maybe you’re right. We all need it.”
“Fuck yeah, we do,” Cam said, blue eyes gleaming with a brightness Eiley hadn’t seen for a while. “I’m going to get absolutely hammered off cocktails, by the way. It’s gonna be—”
“ Disgusting ,” Sorcha interrupted as they returned with a tray of drinks, setting it down with a clumsy bang before twisting to glare in the general direction of the bar.
“That bloke just tried to flirt with me. Me! ” She circled a finger around her round face, cheeks rosy and inky brown eyes disturbed.
“What about this face says I want to snog a man?”
“Who, Graeme?” Fraser frowned at the bar between Sorcha and Andy, who was suppressing laughter behind their hands.
Eiley grimaced, hoping not. The pub’s landlord was almost sixty-five and married, and they’d all known him since they were bairns dancing around the sticky wooden floor while Mum socialised with friends on a Saturday afternoon.
Sorcha hadn’t been included, having grown up in Glasgow, but she’d come in here often enough that most people knew she and Cam were married, not ‘ friends ’, as was occasionally implied by less observant, or open-minded, tourists.
“Nope, not Graeme, thank fuck!” Andy shook out their knotted mullet, throwing themselves down on the nearest chair. Eiley squeezed herself even further against the unpleasantly bumpy wall to make more room. “That beefcake drinking on his own like a wee saddo!”
They all followed Andy’s point, and Eiley froze. She knew those shoulders. She’d been staring at those shoulders an unhealthy amount.
Coffee Giant. Though he had his back turned, she looked away quickly, face burning. Of course, Harper was too observant not to remember him, and gasped loudly. “It’s that lad you fancy, Eiley!”
Every pair of eyes turned to her, and she wished she could hide under the table. “I don’t fancy him. I don’t even know him!”
“And you don’t want to,” Fraser grumbled. “See? He’s not Hercules after all.”
“Just a man with a poorly functioning gaydar!” Cam cupped her hands around her mouth to shout at his back, “Oi! Try it on with my wife again and there’ll be trouble. I don’t care if you’re built like a brick shithouse, sir!”
Sorcha shushed her. Cam might have been yelling to entertain her, but there was enough of an edge of truth to her words.
“What, exactly, did he say to you?” Harper questioned.
“He asked me if I was having a good day. A good day! ” said Sorcha. “In this economy?”
“And then …” Everybody leaned as Andy fought through amusement to say, “He asked her if she ‘comes here often’. I said, ‘she won’t be coming anywhere near you, sir.’”
As Harper creased over, Eiley held her breath, afraid Coffee Giant might turn around. He didn’t, now chatting with Graeme instead, seemingly oblivious. Thank goodness.
“I’m concerned for straight and bi women, if this is what they have to contend with,” Sorcha lamented. “Do you come here often, indeed!”
“Oi!” Fraser groused. “Not all straight men are that pish at flirting. I did all right.”
Andy made a face. “Did you, though? All I remember is you acting like an absolute eejit and living in pure denial when Harper waltzed into your life. You were a wee scaredycat.”
“She has a point.” Harper squeezed his cheek.
Fraser, as often the case with her, had no defence.
“I’m just confused. I work very hard to look this queer.” Sorcha examined herself. “Is it my jeans? Are they not ripped enough? Should I have rolled them up at the cuff?”
Cam patted her on the shoulder affectionately. “You look like a beautiful lesbian to me, babe. Don’t worry. I’ll never let you go through that trauma again.”
“Oh, come on. Aren’t you a little bit flattered?” Harper asked. “He’s really good looking. Like, really.”
“Again, you’re really damaging my ego here,” Fraser muttered, smiling.
“Eiley, tell them!” Harper urged.
Eiley’s face scrunched again. If she shuffled any further away, there would be a her-shaped hole in the wall. At least then this awful conversation would be over.
“I’m saying nothing,” she decided on, because truly, what was there to say?
Coffee Giant might have been handsome, but he’d just revealed himself to be a shameless flirt.
A bad one, by the sounds of it, and he’d made the target her poor, unwilling sister-in-law, who was far more attractive, with her curves and glowy brown skin, than Eiley ever would be.
Better to admire him from afar, with a windowpane and a road separating them, than go anywhere near that.
She took her lemonade and sipped, refusing to let her eyes snag on his spine again. Even if they really, really wanted to.