“That’s not a fair comparison,” she replied. “We’re married.”
“Exactly,” I agreed. “You’re married, committed, in love, invested in one another, and it still happens. He still fucks you over repeatedly. So, if I’ve learned anything from you and Dad, it’s that no man, no matter how perfect he seems, can be trusted.”
“You shouldn’t be afraid to love a boy, Aoife.” Sadness filled her voice as she spoke. “Please don’t let our mistakes hold you back in life. It would break my heart to think that our relationship affected you to the point where you struggle to commit your heart to someone.”
“I’m not afraid of loving a boy,” I told her honestly. “I’m afraid of losing myself in one.”
“I hate to tell you this, but more often than not, the two go hand in hand.”
“I know.” That’s what scares me.
“Aoife.”
“Enough of the heavy.” Patting my mother’s shoulder, I gave her a bright smile before heading for the door. “I’m hot and sticky and in dire need of a shower.”
“Don’t you dare use that shower before I do,” Mam called after me. “I mean it, young lady, I’m having the first go of it.”
“Understood,” I replied as I hurried up the staircase, with every intention of doing just that.
Whipping off my t-shirt, I snatched a towel out of the hot-press, and legged it into the bathroom, cackling mischievously to myself.
“I mean it, Aoife Molloy, don’t even think about it!”
“I won’t,” I laughed, closing and locking the door shut before my mother could finish her threat.
Feeling smug, I stripped off the rest of my clothes and rubbed my hands together in gleeful anticipation, as I stepped into the fancy new shower and switched it on.
The motor roared to life, but nothing came out.
Not so much as a drop of water.
“What the hell?” I growled, twisting and turning the knobs in front of me. “Work, dammit, work.“
A knock sounded on the bathroom door then, and I blew out a frustrated breath.
Stomping over to my towel, I quickly wrapped it around my body, and unlocked the door before swinging it open. “I know what it looks like, but I swear I wasn’t going to use it before you…”
My words trailed off when my eyes landed on Joey.
“You’re back.”
“I’m back.”
“Well good.” Tightening my hold on my towel, I gripped the door and tried to play it cool. “Because you’ve done a crappy job installing this shower. The stupid thing doesn’t even work.”
“I know,” he replied, as he stepped around me and walked over the toilet. “That’s why I’m back.” Crouching down in front of the toilet, he reached behind the cistern. “Forgot to switch the stopcock back on.”
“The stopcock?” I laughed. “What the hell is that?”
Twisting the knob on a valve, Joey reached up and flushed the toilet and then hovered over the bowl, watching the water circle. Seemingly satisfied with that, Joey stood up and walked over to the shower and switched it on. This time, when the motor roared to life, it was accompanied by a steady spray of water coming from the jets. “Ta-da.”
“Yay!!” I clapped in delight. “My hero.”
“Easy to please you, Molloy.”
“That’s impressive, Joe.”
He snorted. “I turned the water back on.”
“I wouldn’t have known how to do that.”
He shrugged and moved for the sink, turning on the tap to wash his hands. “Well, enjoy your shower.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I plan to. Thanks again, Joe.”
“Anytime.”
Switching the tap off, he looked around for a towel, and when he couldn’t find one, he walked over to where I was standing and dried his hands on the bottom of my towel.
“Hey,” I growled, slapping at his hands. “Rude.”
“Nice towel,” he shot back with a cheeky wink before moving for the door. “I’ll be seeing ya, Molloy.”
“Hold up.” My heart pounded loudly in my chest as I followed him to the door, slipping around him to press my back to the wood. And keep him for a little bit longer. “Are you going to your match now?”
He didn’t look happy when he said, “That’s the plan.”
“Do you even want to play?”
My question seemed to throw him because his furrowed his brow in confusion. “Why would you even ask that?”
“Because you never look happy on the pitch,” I replied, readjusting my hold on my towel. Looking up at his face, I offered him a sad smile. “You never look happy anywhere.”
“And you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” he was quick to counter, immediately on the defense, as his walls shot up around him. “Watching everything I do like a fucking stalker.”
“Lower the gun, Joe.” Knowing every one of his tricks, I kept my tone even when I said, “I’m not the enemy.”
Joey glowered at me for a long moment before the hostility in his eyes eventually gave way to resignation. “I know.” Blinking, he released a harsh breath and shook his head. “I know, Molloy.”
“I know you do,” I replied, reaching up to rub the prickly fucker’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”
Heat blazed in his dark eyes when he snapped, “I’m not sorry.”
Yes, he was.
“I know.” Reaching up, I ruffled his blond hair and grinned. “I still forgive you.”
Unable to conceal his discomfort, or his agitated state in general, he ran a hand through his hair and gestured to where I was standing. “Can you move aside so I can leave? I’m going to be late for the match.”
“I’ll move aside,” I told him. “If you promise to wait for me.”
He frowned. “Wait for you?”
“Yeah.” I smiled. “I’m coming with you.”
“Coming with me?” Another frown. “Where?”
“You’re going to the GAA pitch. I’m going to the GAA pitch. We can keep each other company on the walk.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You’re not coming with me.”
“Oh, yes I am.”
Joey stared at me in horror, walls shooting back up at a rapid rate. “In what alternative universe did I give you the impression that I would want you to come with me?”
“How about the universe where you quit pretending that my mere presence irritates you and admit that you adore the ground I walk on.”
His mouth fell open. “I do not.”
“You do, too.” Smiling up at him, I patted his shoulder. “Friend.”
“I’m not your—“
“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence.”
Swiftly clamping his mouth shut, he swallowed. He stared at me for the longest time before growling, “You have five minutes and then I’m leaving.”
Grinning in victory, I patted his chest before stepping aside and moving for the shower. “I’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”