Before Jamaica Lane (On Dublin Street #3)(26)
Author: Samantha Young

‘Think The Book of Eli.’

‘Harsh.’

‘Aye.’

‘So what kind of musical, then?’

He rolled his head on the couch to grin at me. ‘Grease 2.’

I spluttered on the sip I’d just taken, and it took me a minute to breathe freely enough to ask, ‘You’ve seen Grease 2?’

Some of the spark went out of Nate as he shrugged and turned back to the screen. ‘Alana made me watch it.’

Oh. The ghost in the room.

Nudging him with my shoulder, I tried to pass over the moment and bring back his good humor. ‘I’m definitely going with post-apocalyptic world. Especially if there are men in it that look like Denzel.’

His left dimple popped. ‘I’m going with post-apocalyptic world too.’

‘Because of Mila Kunis, right?’

‘Well, there’s that, but mostly it’s because I’m anti-violence.’

I wrinkled my nose in confusion. ‘I don’t get it. Post-apocalyptic worlds unfortunately tend to go hand in hand with violence.’

‘Aye, but I’m much more likely to be the one that’s killed in a post-apocalyptic world. However, if I have to live in Grease 2, there’s more than a ninety-five percent possibility that I’ll shoot the next f**ker that bursts into song.’ He glanced up at me, all deadpan. ‘It’s just the wrong life for a pacifist.’

Giggling, I bobbed my head in agreement. ‘We’re going dystopian, then.’

He nodded and then asked with a small pucker between his brows, ‘So why are you against living in a musical?’

I shook my head, watching the couple on-screen take a shot at a well-known musical. ‘It’s not that I’m against living in a musical per se. I just like the idea of living in a post-apocalyptic world more. I think I’d be badass.’

I wasn’t looking at him, but I could feel his shoulders shaking.

I slanted him an un-amused look. ‘Stop laughing at me. I would be so badass.’

‘Badass how?’

‘I … I … uh … Well, I’m smart. And witty. I’d be, like, your witty, quirky, book-smart sidekick while you went around kicking every body’s ass and giving them judo smackdowns.’

Laughing, Nate relented. ‘Okay, that could work.’ His eyes flicked over me with interest before returning to the screen. ‘You might be a bit of a distraction, though.’

Trying not to show how pleased I was by the compliment, I replied, ‘That could work in your favor.’

‘Aye, if we cover your legs up.’

I nudged him with my knee and he casually put his hand on my leg, curling it into him. ‘I think someone likes my legs.’

He caressed my skin, almost absentmindedly. ‘They’re great legs, babe.’ He reached for the notepad at his side. ‘This is quickly deteriorating.’

‘The movie?’

‘Aye, what else?’ he murmured, scribbling something down on the paper. ‘Any witty comments, O Sidekick?’

Musing, I stared at the screen. ‘There’s a crack about erectile dysfunction in here somewhere.’

He huffed in amusement. ‘And how’s that?’

‘Well, the plot and songs start off well, each one better than the next, until you hit midway through and realize it’s not going anywhere. This proves true toward the final half, where the plot worsens, the songs make your ears bleed, and all the anticipation just –’ I raised a hand and let it flop to make my point.

‘E-rec-tile dys-func-tion,’ Nate said slowly as he scribbled it down. He glanced back up at me with a smile. ‘Anything else?’

13

After we spent the rest of the evening joking around like old times, I felt much lighter when Nate left for home. Even though we made no plans to meet up again the next evening, I didn’t find myself worried sick over it. Nate seemed fine. I knew I was fine. It was all fine.

Any niggling concerns were shoved forcefully back into my pit of denial.

At work the next day my colleagues commented on my good mood, and not just because I’d been in an uncharacteristically bad mood the day before, but because I was in a gooood mood.

‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she got laid,’ Ronan joked as he stood beside me at the help desk.

Thankfully, the wide-eyed look I got on my face was attributed to the fact that he’d made his crack in front of a student, who was now laughing his ass off.

‘Funny,’ I hissed at Ronan when the student walked away.

‘It was, actually.’ Angus chuckled behind us.

‘You’ – I pointed at him – ‘are a mean boss.’

He laughed harder. ‘Oh, come on, Liv. You’re walking around as though everyone is farting roses and pissing champagne. What’s up?’

I blinked rapidly at his observation, making what I’m sure was a ‘what the fuck?’ face. ‘Farting what and pissing what?’ I looked over at my colleague Jill. ‘Are you listening to this?’

She shrugged, smiling. ‘He has a point. You’ve been telling every student to have a “freakin” awesome day!’ all morning.’

‘So? I’m being polite.’

‘I’m just saying …’ Ronan eyed me carefully. ‘Yesterday you were in a terrible mood and today you’re on some kind of natural high.’

Blowing them off, I turned away and rested my chin on my palm. ‘I had a bit of a falling-out with a friend Monday night,’ I lied, but attempted to keep my story as close to the truth as possible. ‘We sorted out our misunderstanding. Now I’m in a good mood.’

‘Well, what a bloody boring explanation that was,’ Angus said teasingly. ‘You’re a librarian, Liv. You’re surrounded by books and material for a good yarn. And you stick to the truth.’ He tutted. ‘Have I taught you nothing?’

I smiled sweetly. ‘I’m quickly learning how to become a drama queen.’

‘Well, that’s something, I suppose. I’ll be in my office, then, where in five minutes a dashing stranger who looks an awful lot like Ryan Gosling will shackle me to my desk and do completely inappropriate and naughty things to me for the next two hours.’ Angus arched an eyebrow at me. ‘Now didn’t that sound better than “I’ll be writing this month’s rota.” ’

I laughed. ‘Point taken.’ I heaved a contrite sigh. ‘Well, if you must know, Monday night I had wild, amazing sex with this hot guy but shit got weird and I was in a really bad mood about it but he surprised me by appearing in my apartment last night where we had more hot wild monkey sex before we snuggled up and watched a movie. Hence my good mood today.’

All three of them looked at me incredulously and then Angus made a face. ‘My Ryan Gosling story was far better.’

I grinned and turned to serve the student approaching my desk, Nate and my secret still … well, a delicious secret.

Later that day I was still in a fantastic mood and more than happy to see my dad standing outside my building with a shopping bag in hand. As soon as I reached him, he bent his massive frame so he could press a kiss to my cheek.

‘Hi, baby girl. Hope you don’t mind’ – he lifted the bag – ‘I brought some food over. Thought I could cook you dinner.’

I unlocked the building door and let us in. ‘Of course I don’t mind. It’s great to see you.’

Once we were inside, Dad immediately set about cooking and soon my apartment smelled like home. Like old times, we chopped vegetables together and I stirred the sauce while Dad boiled the pasta. You wouldn’t think there was an art to boiling pasta, but there was. Apparently. Just ask my dad.

Our conversation as we cooked was light. Dad told me about this new contract he’d just signed to work with Braden’s company again, while I told him about the sock I’d found in a returned book last week only to come upon the matching sock in the reserve section on Monday. They were dirty socks. I was all for weird. But there was weird, and then there was just weird. Angus had this theory that we had a crackpot Harry Potter fan in our midst and this person had somehow confused library assistants with enslaved house elves and by giving us socks thought he was doing a humanitarian act.

I thought it was a pretty good theory.

Better than my theory that some immature freshman was stashing his dirty socks everywhere, laughing his ass off while he filmed me finding them and then put the video up on YouTube.

We ate sitting on stools at my counter, and I was having a great time just chilling with my dad when our conversation took a more serious turn.

‘So you’ve been quiet lately?’ He eyed me, his eyes sharp, searching.

I shrugged, feeling guilty as hell about keeping my shenanigans with Nate from Dad. ‘I’ve just been busy.’

‘Did you know Joss and Braden are back from their honeymoon?’

Another pang of guilt. Wonderful. ‘No, I didn’t know that.’ I swirled a piece of pasta around my fork. I didn’t know that because I was too lost in my selfish sexual world with Nate Sawyer to give a shit what was going on outside of it. That would have to stop. ‘I should call Joss.’

‘This … absence … Is it because of Dee?’ Dad looked deep into my eyes for answers. ‘Because I think we should talk about that. About me and Dee, I mean.’

My breath caught at his expression, at his words, and I felt my pulse speed up. Sweat coated my palms as I shakily exhaled. ‘Are you … are you going to ask her to marry you?’

Dad frowned and gave a slight shake of his head. ‘No, baby girl. No. Though I’m going to take all the color draining from your face at the mere thought of it as a bad sign.’

‘No.’ I hurried to assure him. ‘Dad, I like Dee. I don’t know her as well as you do, but I like what I do know.’

He studied me, not convinced. ‘Then why do you look ill at the thought of me marrying her?’

Pushing my food around my plate, I shrugged. ‘It’s silly. Immature. I just … still think of you as Mom’s.’

Dad’s fork clattered against the plate and his huge hand covered mine, drawing my gaze back to him. His eyes were bright with emotion as he told me in a low, thick voice, ‘A huge part of me will always be your mother’s. I was from the moment I met her. What I have with Dee won’t ever change that.’

‘Is that fair to Dee?’ I asked, trying desperately not to cry.

He squeezed my hand. ‘I’m a different man now, Olivia. Life changes us, second by second. Who I was before Yvonne passed was a man who was right for her. Who I am now is someone I hope is right for Dee. But the most important person in my life is, and always will be, you. I need to know that you’re okay with me moving on with Dee. And I’d especially like it if you got to know her better.’

I smiled teasingly through the shimmer of tears in my eyes. ‘Dad, I’m a grown woman. You don’t need to be worrying about what I think.’

‘See’ – he shook his head with a grin – ‘to the world you’re a grown woman, but to me you’re still my kid. You’ll understand that when you’ve got your own.’