“You didn’t have to do that.” I just tore into Ronan for trying to do the same thing.
“Call it a peace offering.” The dimples make a reappearance with his flirtatious smile, and I think I’m in trouble.
“I think I preferred it when you were mean to me,” I whisper, instantly clamping a hand over my mouth. What the fuck, Viv?
“Be careful what you wish for,” he cryptically says, winking before he walks away.
35
“Are you sure I don’t need to bring anything else?” I call out to Ash through my open bedroom door.
“Just your sexy arse, some cash or your bank card, and something to change into for the event tonight. Wear your jacket with the hood. It might rain.”
I smile to myself as I reach for said jacket. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Ireland in the two months since I’ve been here it’s that it always fucking rains. Now we’re into March, it should start easing off soon. Or so I’ve been told.
“Someone looks happy,” Ash croons from my doorway.
“I’m excited to do all the touristy things,” I truthfully admit. “Audrey can’t believe it’s taken me this long to visit some of the sights.”
“She didn’t tell you she gave me shit the last time we talked? Why else do you think I organized today? Your bestie is terrifying.”
I throw back my head, laughing. “Audrey is fierce. I can’t wait for you to meet her next week.” I almost burst Ash’s eardrums when Audrey confirmed she booked a flight to Dublin during spring break. She’s arriving the day before St. Patrick’s Day, so her timing is perfect. Ash and Audrey have been chatting up a storm in recent weeks, and it pleases me that they seem to get along.
“I’m looking forward to meeting her. We’ll have a blast.”
We meet up with Catriona and the guys outside Trinity, heading to a nearby restaurant to load up on carbs for the action-packed day ahead. In order to make the most out of our day, we are spending it mainly in the city center. This evening, we’re taking a tour of the infamous Kilmainham Gaol, and then we’re seeing The Frames play at The Royal Hospital Kilmainham.
The Frames are an Irish rock band fronted by Glen Hansard, who I know because he won an Oscar for best song for a movie my dad directed when I was a little girl.
“Why didn’t Conor come?” I inquire, as we enjoy a delicious full Irish breakfast.
“He was too stoned to get up this early the night after a show,” Ronan says, stuffing toast into his mouth.
“Conor’s a loner at heart,” Dillon supplies.
“And he doesn’t like crowds,” Jamie adds.
“Wait! What?” I gawk at them. “But he’s in a band! A band with big ambitions. How the hell will that work?”
“He gets lost when he’s on stage,” Jamie explains, tearing a bite out of a crisp piece of bacon. “He barely even notices the crowd most of the time.”
“Who says we’re a band with big ambitions?” Dillon asks, and there’s a familiar edge to his tone. Things have been better since he broke the ice last week, but he barely said two words to me when he and Ronan came for dinner on Wednesday night. I think he’s as perturbed by this freaky chemistry we share as much as I am.
Ronan groans, slinging his arm along the back of my chair. Dillon’s eyes instantly wander to his brother’s arm, and he purses his lips. “Come on, bro,” Ronan says. “Don’t pull this shit again.”
“Sue me for trying to keep things real,” he snaps, and Ash glares at Ronan from behind Dillon, making a slicing motion with her hand across her throat.
“Fine, fine,” Ronan grumbles. “Let’s not mention the war.”
“So, what’s first on the agenda?” I ask, pushing my half-eaten plate away.
“Not hungry?” Dillon lifts a brow.
“Are you kidding? Did you see the size of that thing? It would feed at least three people.”
“More for us,” Jamie says, yanking my plate away.
Dillon and Ronan grab some of the food from my plate before Jamie takes it all, and I watch them devour it like they haven’t been fed in days.
“They’re savages,” Ash says, handing over her half-eaten plate.
“Blame Ma,” Ro says, cutting into his egg. “She always gave us seconds.”
“It’s so unfair,” Cat says. “I only have to look at that greasy plate, and it goes straight on my hips. You three shovel food into your gobs like it’s a national sport, and you all look like that!” She waves her hands in their direction.