4. Rory
Rory
“Where did you come from?” Maeve asked. Her cheeks were still flushed, making her even more beautiful.
“America— to find you.” I kissed her, contemplating whether or not this was the right moment to tell her everything. But her lips were too sweet, her breath was too warm. I chickened out—just like I did when I first saw her. “Are there any more beers?”
“Downstairs.”
I dressed and made my way down the stairs. The once overwhelming smell of human waste had been replaced with the fresh scent of cleaner. Eliza just set her soiled towel in a mop bucket and stood up. Her clothes were stained, but otherwise, she seemed clean.
She folded her arms, looking me up and down. “Was this whole plumbing thing just an excuse to get upstairs with her?”
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“There were easier ways you could have gotten upstairs— less messy ones.”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I was a plumber. I had no idea she lived upstairs. Would be a pretty elaborate gamble to hope someone still wanted to sleep with you —let alone kiss you— covered in shit.”
She scoffed, then relaxed slightly. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“I was just grabbing some beers. Alright?”
Her eyes flashed up toward Maeve’s door. “Tell her the place is cleaned and closed up. She doesn’t need to pay me extra. But she’s going to have to deal with the mop bucket.”
She left at that, leaving me with a sense of foreboding.
Had she known I was coming? It was only a matter of time before Maeve knew why I really was here, and after she went on so long about the bar, I wondered how welcomed my visit would be.
Especially after we’d gotten so intimate.
I pushed the thought out of my mind and dumped the mop water in the alley before locking up and retrieving two beers from the bar fridge.
Maeve was dressed in a set of cotton gray and purple pajamas when I arrived. She looked at me, then at her outfit, and smiled sheepishly. “I was getting cold.”
“You look cute.” I smiled and kissed her. “Eliza just left. She wanted me to tell you not to bother paying her.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course I’m going to pay her extra, but I told her not to clean it up.”
“You think cleaning was an excuse to stay?”
“Yeah, which is funny coming from her. Ms. Sleep-around. Not that I’m judging on that, but you’d think she’d lighten up with me.”
“I take it you don’t do this very often?” I said, leaning my elbow on the cushion beside her.
She laughed. “Not in the slightest. Actually, I’ve never brought a guy here.”
“I should feel honored then,” I said.
“I wasn’t trying to save myself. It just… it never felt right with anyone else.” A slight pink dusted her cheeks, then she quickly added, “Well, I just mean?—”
“It felt pretty good with you, too,” I said. We kissed again, and I made this one slow, methodical, feeling every fragment of her lips. Every tastebud on her tongue.
I pulled away, and she stayed still for a second, her lips still pursed. Then she quickly fixed her expression and turned toward her window. “When I first arrived here, I was convinced that I’d find some Irish guy and gain citizenship.”
I laughed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She caught my eye.
“So, you’re saying I’m a disappointment?”
“Yeah, can’t you gain some citizenship? It would make things a lot easier.”
I laughed. “You know, for how often I come up here, you’d think I’d have citizenship. My grandma does. She actually lives in Dublin.”
She frowned. “How often do you come here?”
Here was yet another perfect opportunity to come clean about everything.
To tell her both mine and my brother’s plans, but again, I was a coward.
No wonder my brother felt the need to push my boundaries so often.
If I didn’t have someone doing it, then I’d never get anything done.
Or I’d dig a deep hole for myself, like I was doing here.
“During our busy season? Probably every few months, staying several weeks at a time.”
“That’s what you’re doing here? You’ll be here for just a few weeks?” She cocked her head to the side, and I could feel her prying me apart, like she really could see into my soul.
“I leave on the tenth of next month,” I said, and while I was grateful to at least give her one of my truths, she frowned.
“Right.” Her voice was soft, like she was drifting away from me, even as we were physically close. I wanted to shout at her, to pull her back from the edge, pull her back to me, but I just sat there, watching it happen.
“Well, you know, I’m pretty tired. I should probably go to bed,” she said.
“Are you asking me to leave?” I said, and before she could answer, I added, “Because I don’t want to leave.” I wouldn’t ever leave if she let me stay, but I didn’t say any of that because I knew how crazy that sounded.
We’d only just met, and I was wishing to be with her forever.
It had been a while since I’d been with someone, who made me feel the way she did, but that was no excuse.
She needed someone more level-headed than me.
And maybe I should have left right then, given her the space she so sorely was crying out for, but then she spoke.
“You can stay, if you’d like.”
“I’d very much like to stay.” I kissed her, and that was enough permission for me to pick her up and take her to bed.
Her room was simply furnished with a scattering of paintings similar to the Dylan Thomas oil on canvas of her. Only these were other characters: Mrs. Willy Nilly, Captain Cat, Butcher Beynon, and others I didn’t recognize, but figured they were in the same collection based on the art style.
“The painter, Daniel, doesn’t really have a place to stash these. His house is full of his other pieces,” she explained.
“So, you’ll hang all the others up, but not the one of you?” I asked.
“It’s easier to look at your friends than yourself.”
I cocked my head at her. “Is it? For someone as bold as you during sex, I would have thought you’d be more confident.” Her face crumpled slightly, and I quickly said, “Sorry that came out worse than I intended. I just meant?—”
“No, I get it. I’m not usually confident. Or maybe confident isn’t the right word. I don’t enjoy seeing myself, but I enjoy seeing you looking at me, and it makes me confident.”
“Well, I hope one day you can see yourself like how I see you,” I said.
She didn’t respond, so I stripped out of my clothes and curled my body around her.
I’d been with my fair share of women, not like my brother Frank, but I’d be lying if I said Maeve was my only sexual relationship in the last few months.
Still, there was something special about Maeve in my arms. Something familiar that I hadn’t felt in years.
We lay like that, breathing together, and sleep must have come because when next I woke up, it was morning, and Maeve turned her body to face me. She ran her fingers along my scruff, tickling the corners of my lips, my neck, then she kissed me.
“Good morning,” I said.
“I like you,” she said.
I gave a sleepy smile. “I like you too.”
She didn’t return my smile. Her eyes were focused hard into me. “I’m going to enjoy our time together, even if that means it’s only temporary.”
“Maeve—”
She silenced me with a kiss. “Seriously, it’s okay. It’s good for me to get out with a guy. The fact Eliza had such a strong reaction means that I should be going out and doing things for myself— with men.”
The very thought of her with other men made my heart ache, but I pushed that feeling away because it really was unjustified. “Alright.”
This time, she relaxed and even gave me a smile. “Have you ever been to the Cliffs of Moher?”
“Never seemed to find the time,” I said, which was the truth.
I’d never taken the trek up those majestic cliffs.
I’d almost gone, but then Frank told me about his escapades on the cliffs, how he’d been with countless women up there.
How the goosebumps on each women’s naked flesh sent him wild.
Unsurprisingly, I never had any strong desire to go there.
“Would you like to go with me today? It’s supposed to be mostly sunny.”
I smiled. “I’d love to go with you, but we should make sure your plumbing’s all good to go before you open for the night.”
“The bar doesn’t open until five in the evening. It’s nine now. It takes an hour and a half to get there, so three hours total. We’ve got plenty of time.”
“What if the plumbing takes a while? What if there’s something worse?”
“You said it yourself that it was probably just blocked. I haven’t heard any vibrations since you fixed that.”
I wasn’t convinced. I’d had my fair share of false hopes. Which is why I needed an entire day to check things, but Maeve had this way she looked at me with those big eyes. It was hard to say no.
“Alright, alright. Let’s go.”
She squealed in delight and kissed me hard.
Then she jumped up from the bed and rushed into the bathroom.
I grabbed the spare clothes she’d lent me and dressed.
Getting out of here would give me a chance to stop by the hotel, but I had no idea when Frank was getting in.
The last thing I wanted was Maeve to meet Frank before I had a chance to explain things.
I checked my phone. Frank had tried calling me last night. Twice, plus a text.
Frank: Flight plans delayed. Will be getting in tomorrow.
He’d sent it last night just after midnight. Did that mean tomorrow as in today— or tomorrow tomorrow?
Maeve opened the bathroom door, with light make up on, and her strawberry blond hair combed, cascading down her shoulders. She walked to a nearby dresser and stripped, her panties riding up between her cheeks.
I dropped my phone and grabbed her hips, pulling her back on the bed. Desire rolling through me. Our tongues tangled, then I kissed her breasts, licking her nipples. She gave a little moan, then pushed me back.
“Not yet.”