Walking the Line Page 5

  Zipping up my fly, I headed for the back door. With my first day near-mugging fresh in my mind, I peered through the barred glass window before opening the door.

  “Hey Kye, what’s up?”

  “I need a drink.” He pushed his way past me and headed for the bar. By his wild-eyed expression, this could take a while. Damn.

  I relocked the door and followed him. “What’ll you have?”

  He sneered. “I’ll help myself.”

  I held up my hands in surrender and took a seat at the bar, wondering what had happened to make Kye this edgy. Maybe I should get Ellie after all.

  “You want anything?” Kye held up a whiskey bottle after sloshing a double shot into his glass.

  “No thanks.”

  “Suit yourself.” He downed the drink in two gulps and topped up twice, finally recapping the bottle much to my relief.

  A drunk Kye would have to stay overnight and for what I had planned with Ellie, I didn’t want guests.

  “Bad day?”

  “The fucking worst,” he said, sliding onto the bar stool next to me. “I lost it on the court.”

  When he turned his head to stare at me, I wished I’d had that shot of whiskey after all. Kye looked broken, like he’d done more than throw a hissy fit while playing tennis.

  “Never done that…” He swirled his drink while staring into its depths. “Usually I burn off anger while I’m playing but today, I had a shitfit to end all shitfits.”

  “Why?”

  He flinched, as if I’d physically flayed him. “The dickhead I was playing in an interclub match knew about my background. He started taunting me…” He downed his double shot and slammed the glass on the bar. “I’ve put up with worse but…”

  I didn’t know whether to leave well enough alone or if Kye wanted to talk more, but I’d never seen a guy look so damned defeated so I settled for some gentle prodding.

  “But?”

  He glanced up from his glass, the bleakness chilling his eyes making me want to turn up the heating. “He bad-mouthed Mum and I snapped.”

  “Understandable—”

  “It’s been five years since she died, you’d think I’d know better.” His bitterness was audible. “I cleared the net, had him in a headlock and would’ve punched the shit out of him if my practice partner hadn’t dragged me off.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. I’d do the same to anyone who badmouthed my mum.”

  For the first time since he’d stormed in, Kye’s shoulders lost some of their tension. “I’d pay to see you rough up anything bigger than a mouse, Irish.”

  “You calling me a weakling?” I flexed an arm and pushed up my bicep with my free hand. “Because I could take you.”

  Objective achieved when Kye semi-smiled. “I’d like to see that.”

  We chuckled as I removed my fingers and my bicep returned to its usual leanness.

  He glanced toward the back stairs and my heart sank. If he wanted to talk to Ellie, he could be here all night, and as unsympathetic as it seemed, I didn’t want that. But the guy looked so lost, so bereft, I had to offer.

  “Do you want to talk to Ellie?”

  “Nah, I’m good.” He pushed the empty glass toward me. “You’ll do.”

  Somewhat relieved, and a little chuffed he valued me as enough of a friend to confide in, I grabbed the glass and placed it out of reach. “I’d make a lousy agony aunt but I’m willing to listen if you don’t get shit-faced.”

  Kye grunted, rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sick of talking about my fuck-ups. What’s happening with you?”

  I couldn’t hide my goofy expression and Kye groaned. “Don’t tell me. I can see it all over your dufus face.”

  “Ellie’s the best,” I said, wondering if it’d be worth running my crazy idea past Kye.

  “You’ll get no argument from me.” Kye studied me. “What’s going on? You look like a kid who’s been given a pet lizard for Christmas and doesn’t know what to do with it.”

  “I’m thinking of staying,” I blurted out, knowing it sounded as ludicrous articulated as it did in my head.

  “In Sydney?”

  I nodded, suddenly glad Kye had dropped by unexpectedly. I’d been going nuts the last few days, ever since the thought had popped into my head that I wouldn’t have to leave Ellie. Not if I didn’t want to.

  “But what about your turf management position in Melbourne?”

  I shrugged. “Jobs come and go.”

  Kye’s eyebrows rose. “You’re serious?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Shit, you’re naive.” Kye shook his head. “You’re out of your mind to give up a solid future in your career field for a woman, even if Ellie is one of the best.”

  Stunned by Kye’s vehemence, I tried to marshal a suitable response when he continued.

  “Mate, let me give you some advice.” He slapped me on the back. “Think with your big head, not your little one.”

  I shoved Kye away. “You’re a fuckwit if you think this is just about sex.”

  “Whoa.” Kye’s audible admiration did little to quell my rising temper. “You’ve got it bad.”

  “I care about her,” I murmured, my shoulders slumping as the fight drained out of me. “And I have no fucking clue how to convince her of that.”

  “Tell her,” Kye said, surprisingly somber. “What have you got to lose?”

  The way Ellie shied away from anything deep and meaningful?

  Everything.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ELLIE

  I snuck a peek downstairs and when I saw Finn settle onto the barstool next to Kye, I knew he’d be a while.

  Kye often did this; turned up at the bar at all hours if he’d had a bad day. Because the kid was so mixed up, he had a few of those. Usually we’d share a drink, shoot pool, play poker, talk. At least, Kye would talk, I’d listen. I didn’t mind being his stand-in mum. He was a good guy and Sheree would’ve done the same for me if I’d had a kid.

  An old, familiar pain twanged my chest at the thought of what I wanted and would never have. Now, like back then when my perfect life had crumbled before my blinkered eyes, I marched to my apartment, slammed the door and headed for the bedroom.

  It took me a full five minutes to realize I was zipping into my leathers, gelling my hair, applying lashings of red lipstick and slipping on the chunkiest silver rings I could find, when I should’ve been getting ready for Finn.

  “Jeez,” I muttered, sinking onto the edge of my bed, letting the four-inch spiked heel boots in my hand fall to the floor.

  I didn’t have to run away anymore. I owned this place. This was my sanctuary. And I had the promise of all-night sensational sex to take the edge off my sorrow.

  Because that’s exactly how I felt every time I rehashed the past, even in my head. Sad. Bone-deep grief, the kind that could sap energy and render me useless if I let it. I should know. I’d let it get a grip on me for almost a month after Dougal had first left.

  Dougal. The man of my dreams. My high school best friend who’d had enough of a bad boy edge to make him attractively dangerous, yet gentle and sweet around me. The guy who’d promised me the world. The guy who’d given me jack-shit instead.

  Angry that I’d let my memories get the better of me, I stood and started ripping off my clothes, before heading to the bathroom to remove the rest of my mask. I didn’t need war-paint or fierce hair to be with Finn. And that’s what I needed right now: to be with Finn.

  Finn made me feel good. Made me feel hopeful. Made me forget.

  I showered quickly and donned a robe. I opened my door, heard the murmur of voices at the back door and padded barefoot to his room. I’d slipped under the covers as Finn’s footsteps pounded up the stairs.

  The bedroom door flung open and I startled. Finn stalked into the room, auburn curls awry, aquamarine eyes glowing with fervor.

  “Is everything okay—”

  “Yeah, Kye’s good, he just left.” He stared at me f
or an eternity, before closing the door.

  “I need you to listen.” He made a zipping motion over his lips as he strode to the bed and sat next to me. “Hear me out without saying a word.”

  “O-kay…”

  I didn’t like his expression, halfway between bold and batty.

  He grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers. “I’ve been thinking about this for a week.”

  Not liking the sliver of foreboding shimmying down my spine, I eased back a little. “About what?”

  “Staying. In Sydney.”

  Three little words to strike fear into my heart when I had to believe that what we had was sex and nothing more.

  While I was freaking out on the inside, I tried to appear calm and clarify, because Finn could be sticking around for a variety of reasons.

  I willed my voice to remain steady. “Why?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You seriously have to ask?”

  He squeezed my hand. “I care about you. A lot. And I thought—”

  “Stop.” I yanked my hand out of his and scooted across the bed, away from him and out of reach. “This is ridiculous.”

  Confusion creased his brow. “I don’t understand—”

  “That’s obvious.”

  I reached for my robe draped on the end of the bed and shrugged into it. No way could I have this conversation naked. Not when I’d need to storm out of this room shortly before I relented and listened to the nagging voice inside my head that insisted I knew exactly where this was going but was too damn scared to admit it. “Look, Finn, we’ve had fun but you can’t stay in Sydney because of me.”

  His mouth flat-lined, his glower mutinous. “The connection we share is more than sex and you know it.”

  Hugging my knees to my chest, I shook my head. “What I know is you’ve got your whole life in front of you. A career to forge. Women to meet. Kids to raise.”

  I waved my arm around the room. “That’s not going to happen if you’re stuck in a shithole tending bar because you’ve left Ireland for the first time and have confused a good fuck for something more.”

  I hated cheapening what we’d shared, but I had to do it. Had to belittle and taint our relationship so he wouldn’t make the biggest mistake of his life.

  Because of me.

  Rather than erupt and tell me to get the hell out, his eyes narrowed, his stare too astute, too assessing. “Tell me who hurt you so badly—”

  “I’m done here.”

  I swung my legs over the end of the bed and tried to stand as he lunged across and hauled me back with an arm around my waist.

  “You’re pushing me away verbally, just like you do everyone else with your bad-arse attitude and leathers and make-up.” He tried to hold me tighter and I wriggled, desperate to escape. “Stop the pretense because I can see right through your armor.” He murmured in my ear, “I’m not leaving, Ellie, so get used to it.”

  I stilled, the fight draining out of me, replaced by a fierce desperation to do the right thing. Because for one terrifying second, I wanted to believe. Believe that Finn really could see through me, and that he liked me anyway, that he’d stay regardless.

  That he’d never run.

  But that second passed and the reality was, I’d have to push him away, once and for all.

  To do that, I’d have to lay myself bare and tell him the truth.

  “Let me go,” I hissed through clenched teeth, elbowing him at the same time. I made contact with his solar plexus and he released me on a loud exhalation.

  I stood, spun around to face him. “If you stay, what do you envisage happening with us? White picket fence? Housewife? A family?”

  He eyed me warily. “You know that’s what I want eventually, but our relationship is new and—”

  “There is no relationship,” I yelled, making us both jump. “You’ll head to Melbourne to complete the internship your grandfather bent over backwards to get. You’ll meet some sweet girl who’ll give you the seven kids so you can replicate your parents. And you’ll forget all about the fling you had at the first stop of your Aussie adventure.”

  “I won’t forget.” He stood so quickly I stumbled trying to back away. “And just because I opened up to you about wanting a big family one day, don’t use it as an excuse to push me away when we’re only getting started.”

  He tried a lop-sided smile, the one that slam-dunked my heart every time. “Because I’d settle for three brats, you know. Maybe even two—”

  “I can’t have kids!” I screamed, my throat convulsing. “I’m a fucking decade older than you. And by some remote chance we could ever make a relationship work, I can’t give you what you want…”

  My chest heaved with the effort to subdue the sobs making breathing difficult. “I was like you once. Naive and hopeful, with big plans and big dreams. The perfect relationship with the perfect person, or so I thought. Then the going got tough. We found out I was reproductively challenged. And he didn’t want me because I was flawed. So when your dreams turn to shit, the people around you run and the only one you can depend on is the last person standing.”

  I touched his shell-shocked face for the last time. “That person is me.”

  I angrily swiped at the tears trickling down my cheeks. “I choose me.”

  Then I walked away without looking back.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  FINN

  I went after Ellie.

  Hammered on her door. Pounded on it until my fists hurt. Desperate to hold her, comfort her, love her.

  Because if the pain ripping through my chest was any indication, I must love her. There was no other explanation.

  Her pain was my pain and Ellie was hurting. Big time. The devastation contorting her beautiful face when she blurted the truth…I’d never seen anything like it. And it made me feel dumber than ever.

  How many times over the last week had I rambled on about my family? Telling tales of Maeve and Ciara exploiting their identical twin status by playing pranks. Waxing lyrical about Connor, Liam, Aiden, and Sean, a dufus for idolizing my brothers but proud at the same time. Raving on about our close-knit loyalty, our celebrations, our togetherness. How much I wanted the same when I eventually settled down.

  All the while, Ellie had nodded and appeared interested, when she must’ve been dying a little inside. By her impassioned, devastating outburst, I’d rubbed her face in the one thing she wanted most but couldn’t have: kids.

  I tried one last time, bashing at the door with my forearm. “Ellie, please. Let me in. I want—”

  “Fuck off,” she yelled, followed by the sound of something crashing against the door and shattering.

  Wincing, I backed away from the door. She needed space, I’d give it to her. So I trudged back to my room, sank onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. For an hour. Ellie’s revelations and consequent freak-out reverberating through my head.

  The thing was, as much as I loved my family and being surrounded by siblings, kids weren’t a deal-breaker for me. Especially with the right woman. And I now knew that woman was Ellie.

  I wanted to hang around, have a relationship, see if we really did fit before even contemplating anything serious yet she’d jumped straight to kids when I’d told her my plans.

  Interesting.

  It meant Ellie had been thinking ahead, way ahead, envisaging the two of us together, being totally committed. That told me more than her defensive behavior ever could.

  She was invested in us already.

  She could push me away all she liked but I wouldn’t give up.

  Not without a fight.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ELLIE

  As I swept up the pieces of the glass I’d thrown at the door and tipped them into the bin, a shard pierced my thumb.

  “Bloody typical,” I muttered, sucking my thumb and glaring at the offending glass. Yeah, like it was a responsible for the total balls-up before.

  Why the hell had I told Finn the truth? I could’ve pushed him away,
fired him, made him leave, but the minute he’d started spouting all that romantic crap about staying around for me, I’d lost it. Completely.

  Deep down, I knew why.

  I yearned. Yearned to have what he had with his family. Yearned to have that closeness, that bond, that mayhem. The stories he’d told during our time together over the last week highlighted chaos, siblings that bickered and fought and teased, but siblings who would fight to the death to stand up for family.

  It made me want kids all the more and I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit to envisaging a bunch of tousled-auburn-haired brats with eyes as blue as their father’s.

  I was that far gone with Finn.

  Finn, with his roguish smile and crinkly eyes and sex-me-up Irish accent.

  Finn, who was ten frigging years younger than me though seemed more mature.

  Finn, who made me laugh, who made me feel feminine, who made me…whole. Whole in a way I hadn’t felt for a long time, not since I’d lived with Dougal in a picture-perfect three-bedroom brick cottage with a yard waiting to be filled with our ragamuffin kids.

  Tears filled my eyes again and I reached for the nearest anesthetic: tequila, straight up.

  Finn and I were over.

  I’d get Kye to fire him and put him on a Melbourne-bound train or plane. That would be the end of it.

  I sloshed a triple shot of tequila into a glass and slammed it down, straight. The alcohol scorched a trail from my throat to my gut, but it did little to burn away the pain making me clutch my chest.

  Nothing would help ease that pain. I knew that firsthand. It took me a year to get over Dougal.

  It would take an eternity to get over Finn.

  In the meantime, I needed to feel nothing. Numb.

  This time, I filled the glass to the brim.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  FINN

  When Ellie didn’t answer her door the next morning, I contacted the one person who could help.

  Kye answered on the first ring. “If you’ve broken her heart, I’ll have to break you.”

  “More like she’s broken mine,” I said, rubbing the grit out of my eyes.