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Authors: Deirdre Martin

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BOOK: Breakaway
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They were halfway down the road before Erin asked, “Where’re you going?”

Rory looked at her oddly. “What do you mean, where am I going? I’m going to your house.”

“I don’t live on Bryant Street anymore, Rory. My parents sold the house and they’re running a B and B now. But then you wouldn’t know that, would you?”

“Actually, I do know about it. My gran told me. I’d just forgotten.”

Erin softened for a minute. She loved Rory’s gran. She felt guilty because she hadn’t visited her since Rory dumped her. Talk about self-absorbed.

“Where is it, then?”

Erin hesitated, then told him, “Carmen Road.”

“Two blocks from the High Street,” Rory murmured, more to himself than Erin. “Makes sense.”

Erin smiled sweetly. “Do you still know your way round town? It’s been years since you’ve graced Ballycraig with your presence.”

Rory glanced at her with surprise. “When did you get snarky?”

“Probably around the same time you kicked my teeth in.”

Rory was quiet. Erin couldn’t wait for the ride to be over. She was filled with an anxiety that wouldn’t ease. If it kept on this way, she would explode.

She closed her eyes, the better to get hold of the roiling inside. It was the first time she caught a whiff of Rory’s footballers’ scent—sweaty, earthy—and it kicked something back to life inside her, a fast-moving array of images: watching Rory play football, she and Rory picnicking at the pond, she and Rory in a booth at the Oak, imagining their future while Erin got a little tipsy. Rory and—

“What’re you smiling about?”

Erin opened her eyes.

“You were smiling,” Rory repeated.

“So?”

“You were thinking about me. Us.”

“Oh, of course. I was thinking about you. Because that’s all that anyone in Ballycraig does: think about Rory Brady.”

“You were thinking about me,” he said lightly, “but if you want to deny it, I understand.”

“You know what? The only thing bigger than your bollocks is your ego.”

Rory laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

They pulled up in front of the B and B.

“Go around the corner,” Erin demanded. “The last thing I need is my mother seeing this car and thinking some visiting dignitary has come to stay. Go round to Benton Avenue.”

Rory did as she asked. She could picture her mother getting all wound up if she thought someone famous or rich might be coming to stay. Working herself into a frenzy. It wouldn’t be good.

She turned to Rory as he pulled to the curb. “Thank you for the lift.”

“We need to talk.”

She knew this was coming. “Do we?”

Rory switched off the ignition. “I have something I need to say.”

“I bet I can recite it by heart,” Erin said bitterly. “‘I’m sorry I hurt you, Erin. I never meant to. If I could take it all back, I would. I was just out of my head, being in Manhattan and all. I made a mistake, love. A big, big mistake. Can you forgive me and take me back?’”

“You’ve found me out.”

Erin refused to look into his eyes. She knew Rory, and she knew he was sitting there looking smug as hell, thinking,
C’mon, you know you want to smile. You know you do.

When she refused to react to his joke, he changed his approach. “Look, I know you wish I hadn’t come back for the summer. But since I have, it would mean a lot to me if you’d let me do one small thing for you to make your life easier.”

“And what would that be?” Erin asked guardedly.

“Let me drive you around.” Erin had barely opened her mouth to respond when he rushed in with, “Hear me out. I don’t know how you got up to the camp, but if it weren’t for me, you would have had to take a sick child home in a cab. The other day when I saw you, you were dragging those groceries home from the bus. I’ve got this car. Please let me put it to good use.”

“And what? Let you chauffeur me around?”

“Yes,” Rory said plainly. “If you need to go to Moneygall to get groceries for your mother, I’ll take you. I’ll take you anywhere you need to go, anytime you need to go.”

Erin was dumbfounded. “You’ve gone soft in the head.”

“I’ve not,” Rory insisted. “Think about it. It would make your life easier. I owe you at least that much.”

“Charity.”

“It’s not charity. It’s a small start at amends.”

Her mind was a hodgepodge. “My mother will—”

“Sod your mother. She’s always pushed you around. You can do as you please.”

Erin knew he was right.

“And camp?”

“I can do as I please.”

“I’ll think about it,” Erin muttered reluctantly. “But it’s very doubtful I’m going to want to be trapped in a car with you on a regular basis.”

“You’ve every right to feel that way. But don’t let pride stand in the way of making your life easier. I need to do something for you, and right now, this is all I can come up with. Whatever you decide, the offer will be on the table for as long as I’m here.”

7

Driving over to Jake’s, Rory reflected on the progress he’d made with Erin two days before. He’d only managed to scratch the surface of her defenses, but it was a start. He’d been thrilled that they’d managed to actually have a bona fide conversation, even if Erin did hurl a few choice remarks his way. She could’ve said far worse. She probably wanted to. But that wasn’t Erin. He knew her: deep down inside, there was a free spirit screaming to get out, but she was trapped in the role of dutiful daughter. Rory and Erin’s mother had never gotten along. He understood why. In Mrs. O’Brien’s world, daughters were supposed to take care of their mothers when they were old, and Rory was going to take her daughter away. She had to be thrilled that things had fallen apart between them.

Yet despite the difficulty Erin’s mother had always presented, there was never any doubt that Erin loved her—loved her whole family, in fact. She was extremely loyal, a trait Rory had always appreciated. And she was kind, the kindest person he knew. Erin was the one who’d always stuck up for the kid being bullied on the playground, the
one willing to risk being a target herself when some poor, smelly bastard was eating alone in the lunchroom. But she herself was never targeted, because she was well liked; having Sandra as backup didn’t hurt, either. Everyone at school knew that if they dared look at Erin cross-eyed, they’d have to answer to Sandra, who could pack quite a punch.

Memories swirled round in his head like taunting ghosts as he recalled all those times he and Erin had laughed together. She’d always been able to make him laugh, and vice versa. It had helped defuse many a tense moment. They’d cried together, too. Rory never felt more himself than when he was with Erin. She always accepted him exactly as he was; she’d never once tried to change a single thing about him. Yet as open, honest, and caring as she was, Rory could never shake the feeling that he didn’t know
her
completely. The mystery of that had always appealed to him. It still did.

Having started down the path to making amends, the next person on his list was Jake. Thinking about what a dick he’d been to his lifelong friend filled him with self-loathing. The last time they’d spoken was over two years ago. He hoped Jake didn’t tell him to fuck off, but if he did, Rory knew he deserved it.

Jake was still living in the small house two miles down from Aislinn McCafferty’s farm, which had once belonged to his aunt and uncle. Jake’s older brother Alec was now living there as well. Rory didn’t know how Jake could take it, especially since he and Alec worked together, too. Alec was a good bloke, but he was the most boring person on earth. It wasn’t Alec’s fault, Rory supposed, but that never stopped him and Jake from taking the piss behind his back. “Want to hear about my toolbox?” Alec would drone, and they’d be killing themselves with laughter.

Rory parked his Range Rover at the end of their drive, more out of guilt than anything else. He earned every penny he made playing for the Blades, and the only real luxury he was allowing himself this summer was the car.
He didn’t care what everyone else thought, but there was a part of him that didn’t want to be perceived as shoving his wealth under Jake’s nose.

Rory started walking up to the house. The shitey old blue truck Alec had owned forever was there, bumping Rory’s car guilt up to a whole new level. He felt better when he spotted the silver Civic on the other side of the drive, glowing metallic in the moonlight. That was new. It had to be Jake’s. Alec would get by with a horse and trap if he thought he could.

He could hear Arcade Fire blasting on the other side of the door. He leaned hard on the bell; Jake was a famous one for not hearing a damn thing when he was into his music. Rory let his mind wander for a second, and in that second, the door opened. Jake looked at Rory. Rory looked at Jake. Jake punched him in the nose.

“Well, there’s that taken care of, then,” Rory joked lamely, grabbing the end of his shirt and pressing it against his nostrils to stem the stream of blood.

“You look pitiful,” Jake announced. “Get in here.” He looked disgusted as he pulled Rory inside.

The pain was excruciating. Not his nose. It was the pain of seeing his best friend in the world.

Jake gestured at the couch in the spartan living room. The place hadn’t changed at all. “Sit down. I’ll get some ice.” He disappeared down the hall.

Rory turned down the music. His eyes scanned the living room for something, anything, that might be different. He wondered where Alec was, then wondered if he possessed the power of conjuring as Alec came bounding down the steep, carpeted stairs.

“Jake-o!” His mood was upbeat until he spotted Rory. “What the feck!”

Rory held up a hand in the hopes of warding him off for a moment. “He knows I’m here. As you can see, he’s already greeted me.”

“That’s a shame,” Alec sneered. “He should have torn your balls off and fed them to Deenie for dinner.”

“Go on.” Rory tilted his head back, pressing the tail of his shirt harder against his nose. A thin, metallic-tasting trickle of blood went down his throat. “Give me all you’ve got.”
Which isn’t much, you empty-headed sod.

“I’m surprised Erin’s father hasn’t come round to your gran’s and beat you with a tire iron,” Alec continued.

“That would require asking his wife for his stones back, so forget that ever happening.”

“I bet the Trinity would do it for him if he asked.”

Rory snorted. “The three of them share a single ball. They take turns using it to get off their arses and buy a round.”

Rory wished Jake would hurry up with the ice. He was a hockey player, so he could keep this trash talk up for days if necessary. But it was only a matter of time before Alec ran out of tough talk and returned to his usual subjects, like shears and Wellies. Rory decided he’d end the joust before Alec ran out of ammo by shifting gears with an out-and-out lie.

“I heard through the grapevine that the training of the new dog is coming along well.”

Obviously relieved from the burden of coming up with more tough talk, Alec jumped at the chance to return to himself. “It is. Jupitus is going to be a champion herder. See, the thing about training herding dogs…”

And he was off. If Jake were in the room and they were still mates, they’d both be burning a hole through the floor with their eyes, trying not to laugh. Rory started to smile, then stopped. Hopefully he could fix things. Jake appeared holding a blue terry washcloth filled with ice cubes. He shoved it into Rory’s hand.

“That should do it.”

Jake stared at his brother.

Alec’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Can you get out of here? Rory and I have business to discuss.”

“Oh. Right. I guess I’ll go back up and watch telly.” Alec suddenly seemed to realize that he should make some
kind of final threatening gesture at Rory to show his brother he had his back. A blank look came over his face as he searched for something tough to say that he hadn’t already said. “Watch yourself,” was all he could manage, in a poor imitation of a growl.

Rory lowered his head so Alec couldn’t see him smirk. “Thanks for the ice pack,” he said to Jake.

“Well, I wasn’t gonna let ya bleed all over my house, was I?”

“I can tell having Alec here hasn’t improved your skills as a housekeeper.”

BOOK: Breakaway
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