Chapter 22 An Experiment in NOT Dating
“You all right?” Tadhg asked after I woke up from a nap in the backseat.
“Mm.” I rubbed at my hair. Thank goodness it was bouncy enough to resist four separate bike-helmet sessions, because Jackie had last-minute scheduled one last date for today.
I thought about canceling. My usual schedule was one date a week for a good reason—they drained me.
All that trying hard to “be myself” while also trying very hard not to be too much myself was exhausting.
But Jackie seemed to be really giving this some elbow grease and, good to his word, was also giving me a gorgeous tour of some of the most beautiful places I’d ever been.
It was what I had asked for, for the most part.
Also, the last date of the day was at a pub, and there would be dinner.
I could manage just about anything if it came with a side of fries.
“We’ll have a quiet day tomorrow, promise,” Tadhg said with a glance in the rearview. “No dates at all, and then a home-cooked meal and an interview in the evening. How does that sound?”
I stretched and let out a yawn. “Delicious.”
“I’m kinda dying to know how the date went with Mr. Punctuality back there . . .”
“About as meh as you could get.” I should have thought of something funnier. I should have told him about it. But I didn’t have the energy to figure out how I felt about telling Tadhg about my dates now.
“Well, I won’t push. Seems like you need a little peace and quiet.”
“I do, actually. Is that rude?”
“Not at all.”
“Awesome.”
I put on my headphones and listened to my audiobook, looked out the window for long stretches, smoothed on the last of my lime-and-basil hand cream, and pulled out some knitting that didn’t take much counting or concentration.
I carved out my little space in the backseat to recharge.
And Tadhg said nothing more until we got to Dingle.
This time his silence felt different—not annoyed or surly but considerate. And I was grateful for it.
DINGLE. DINGLE was tiny and beautiful. A box of crayons—pubs and restaurants and shops of all different colors and flavors on crowded, meandering streets. Most of them catered to tourists, sure, but that at least meant lots of food, pubs, and live music.
My quiet time, a shower, and a change of clothes at the B&B had revived me, and as we strolled up the cobbled streets to the pub, pointing things out to each other as we went, Finn in the lead, I almost forgot how overstimulated I felt.
“I’ve never been to Dingle, actually,” Tadhg said.
“What? How is that possible? You can basically see it from your bedroom window.”
“Yeah, I know. I guess I haven’t traveled as much as I would have liked to. Was always busy with some project or other.”
I turned to look at him as we walked, but I kept quiet, hoping he’d go on.
“So, don’t tell my dad or anything, otherwise he’ll get smug about it, but this trip is a little bit of an adventure for me as well.”
“Well. That’s pretty damn cute. You just earned yourself some points.”
“Oh, I did, did I?” he said through a small grin. “Do I have a lot? What’s my tally?”
“Negative six at the moment.” He laughed. “But you should have seen it before. Ouch.”
“I don’t doubt it. I hope I earned some points yesterday.”
Uh-oh. Swooping feeling. “Um.”
“And provided I ever make it into the positives, what are these points redeemable for?”
“Uhhh.” I stumbled. So many dirty things flashed through my mind. Blow job! Say “blow job”! “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
He grinned. “You don’t know, do you?”
“No idea.” Blow job!
And then we were there, and he was opening the door for me, and I was walking through it and into my next date. And thank fucking God for that. Because I can’t take much more of this.
There was music playing, and food smells in the air, and even a fire in the grate. It was a lot of sensations after the day I’d had, but I was hungry, and I would be happy to sit down and order some food.
“Right.” Tadhg looked around and then at his phone. “I don’t think he’s here just yet. Finn and I will be over here at the bar. Why don’t you grab that table, and I’ll send him a text.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I put on my earplugs, found an empty table, and zoned out until I could order.
The chairs were a little bit uncomfortable, and it wasn’t long before the server arrived and I could order a pint of Murphy’s.
It was cool and rich and oh so smooth, and I closed my eyes and sank into myself a little further.
A buzz on the table. A text from Tadhg.
No answer yet.
That’s fine. Not in a huge hurry to hear about his brush with gout, or what kind of bicycle seat is best for his coccyx.
Then he was thirty-five minutes late and I was starving.
Ha! You all right? Going to step out and call.
Sure. I’m fine. Ordering a starter so I don’t die.
Don’t die. My dad doesn’t give refunds. He’d probably make ME go on the rest of the dates.
I had NO IDEA that was an option!
Wipe that look off your face, Davis!
Tadhg shot me a look across the room, then stood up and moved through the crowd with Finn behind him.
People had to clear a path for him, but one look at his rapidly changing expression, and most people stepped aside in a hurry.
I was sitting close to the window, and I could see him in the street outside the pub, pacing and gesturing angrily while Finn paced with him and barked in sympathetic annoyance.
Ouch. I wouldn’t want to be that guy. Actually, I could remember all too clearly when it was me Tadhg was mad at. Only this time it was in my defense.
Then he was there in front of me, with all the energy of an angry bull.
“That arsehole isn’t coming.” He stood across from me, arms crossed. “Jesus, what a wank stain. I gave him a piece of my mind, make no mistake.” His brow softened. “I’m sorry, Maya. You’re tired and you’ve had a long day, but you made the effort to look beautiful and come out here in goodwill.”
Beautiful? I stared at him. Speak now. Any words will do! “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.”
“I mean, no, it’s not. But I’m way too tired for a date anyway, and to be honest, this is kinda what dating is like these days. I get stood up and ghosted all the time.”
“What?” Back to angry. But on my behalf, I couldn’t help but notice. “Who would do that to someone?”
“You’d be surprised. People match with you online, and they sort of forget that you’re human, you know.”
“Well, that’s horseshit. And I’m sorry it’s happened tonight.”
I shrugged. “Are you hungry? Can we order some food? I’m absolutely starving! All that cycling really worked up an appetite.”
“Yeah. That we can do. Should I”—he gestured to the chair— “or . . .?” He glanced at the bar.
“Oh! Of course! Wait . . . it wouldn’t be, like, a date, though, would it?”
His eyes went wide. So did mine.
My heart kicked up as I looked at him, regretting my lack of filter.
But I needed an answer. I was exhausted and hungry, and my social battery was on zero.
I didn’t want another date today, and the very last thing I wanted was a postcoital date with Tadhg when I was too tired to be careful with myself.
We’d all seen what happened on our last date when I was in full possession of my faculties—Armageddon.
God only knew how much worse I could make it today.
Tadhg cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “Oh . . .” He shifted his weight. “Is that what you . . .?”
“No!”
His shoulders dropped. “Great. So, no . . . not a date, then. Just two people eating dinner at the same time, at the same table. Coincidentally.”
“Total coincidence.” I smirked and pushed the chair out to him with my foot.
He gave Finn a nod, and she sat next to his chair before he sat down himself, and I realized how small the table was.
Our knees jostled for space, and he looked up with a small grin and something in his eyes that did .
. . something surprisingly pleasant to my stomach. Which was bad. Very bad.
I squirmed. “I know we still need to have a talk, but could we maybe eat first and talk after? I don’t think I can handle it just yet.”
His brow smoothed and he leaned back, the wood of the chair creaking. “Oh, thank Christ!” He let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. I smirked. “I mean, of course, if that’s what you want, Maya, I’ll do my best to be patient.”
“That’s very understanding of you, Tadhg.”
“Well, now. I’m a very emotionally intelligent man. Everyone says so.”
“Is that because they’re afraid that you’ll pummel them with your giant ham fists?”
A flash of pretty, white teeth. I could remember them biting my neck. “Something like that.”
Finn lay down and rested her head on her front paws, getting comfortable. I was getting comfortable too. Maybe if I could quiet my brain long enough to eat and not think about all of the mess my libido had thrown us into, then maybe, just maybe, this might not be so awkward.
The server came, and we ordered another round of Murphy’s and half of the food menu. We sipped and listened to the music, and I didn’t feel my usual frantic need to fill the silence but found myself speaking anyway.
“So, is your first time in Dingle living up to expectations?”
He nodded. “The Murphy’s doesn’t hurt.”
“If you could travel anywhere, where would you go?”