Lost Days (Four Days Book 4) Page 7

  “You’ve done it, haven’t you?”

  “Done what?”

  “Pulled off some of your usual bullshit.”

  I huff and pour myself another cup of coffee.

  “I thought there was something there between you.”

  “Well, you were wrong.”

  And that’s the truth, isn’t it? There really isn’t anything going on between us.

  “Ah Liam,” Jay says, patting his shoulder. “So big, so strong, so childish. As usual, you don’t understand shit.”

  I pretend I’m not listening to them because I already know exactly where Jay is going with this. He’s going to make me feel worse than I do now and then leave me alone with my doubts and my sense of guilt. It’s useless to avoid it or try to get him to shut up, he’s just going to do it anyway.

  “Would you guys help me understand something?”

  “Okay, I’ll explain it to you with simple words,” Jay continues. “Aaron likes Ciara and no, don’t look at me like that my friend, you’re so obvious it makes Patrick seem subtle. Do you really believe no one picked up on how you were looking at her the other night? We’re not that gullible.”

  “Get to the point, Jay,” I threaten him.

  “Okay, keep it cool. I was just saying… he likes her and we know him. We know that he’s not the kind of guy who let’s his guard down with women. So much so that for years we thought he seriously might be—”

  “Is this commentary strictly necessary?”

  “Alright, I just wanted to sum up the situation. We know that Aaron is all integrity and discipline and doesn’t lose his head for a skirt or a long pair of legs. He’s not some son-of-a-bitch who just takes what he wants for his own pleasure… and so, if he now finds himself in this position, it means he feels something for her, because otherwise he would not have risked getting to this point. Aaron has resisted Ciara’s charms as long as he could, but, well, he’s a man and Ciara, boys, is not hard on the eyes.”

  “You better watch your mouth!” I step closer to him with the jealousy flowing up from my stomach.

  “Don’t you see? You can’t even pretend I’m wrong. You betray yourself.”

  “Knock it off, okay?”

  “Sure. I’ll get right to the point. Ciara has had a crush on Aaron for as long as anyone around here can remember. Patrick made all of us make that stupid promise and now Aaron has the weight of the world on his shoulders, the pub, the house… He didn’t want anyone to get dragged up into it. I know he’s trying to protect her because she’s young and has her whole future in front of her and he thinks she shouldn’t worry about him and all his shit. Have I left anything out?”

  I’m tempted to tell him that I made a conscious decision years ago to make a life for myself but I bite my tongue. It’s not the right moment to provoke another parental discourse.

  “More or less.”

  “So then… help me understand why at a certain point in the story I can’t seem to make ends meet. Why the fuck did you lead her on like that? Because she’s already seeing your initials on the wedding invitations—if you didn’t want to see her mixed up in your life, if you wanted to keep the distance?”

  Because I’m a weak idiot. Because she is sweet and full of life and has the purest soul and I needed all of those things. I yearned for them, wanted to feel them against my skin, at least one time in my life.

  “Because I’m an asshole,” is all I say.

  The heart of the matter is more or less that.

  “By the way, is there anything else you’d like to tell us? Because now would be the moment.”

  “No,” I lie. “Everything’s great.”

  I’ve become the bullshit king. I’ve been at it for so long with everyone around me. I tell people everything’s going to be alright, that I’ve got it all under control, that life is good and that I’m happy. It almost doesn’t even weigh on me anymore, I’ve gotten so used to it. And yet, lying to her—saying those things—was like tearing my heart out of my chest cavity and handing it over to Hades, the God of the dead. I’ll never be able to forget the disappointment in her eyes. I hurt her in the worst possible way.

  And now she’s going to hate me. Even though I begged her not to, I know that she will. And it’s something I need to be ready to accept to keep her away from me.

  10

  CIARA

  A full tour and an afternoon at school have helped to keep me busy and from getting my mind bogged down. It wasn’t easy but my job is enjoyable and it was soothing for me and something healthy for my wounded heart.

  It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have gotten so close, I shouldn’t have tried. All these years I’ve confined myself just to blushing in silence and dreaming of something that could never be.

  That goddamned roof.

  If it hadn’t been for that episode, nothing would have changed, I wouldn’t have made a fool out of myself and brought to light something that I had hidden under a good layer of dust, and kept myself safe from suffering.

  I sigh as I gather my notes and get up from my chair. I turn around without thinking and run smack into someone.

  “Oh God, sorry!”

  “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have crept up behind you like that,” says Mark.

  “Naw, I’m just distracted.”

  “Boyfriend troubles?”

  I blush and look down. “I haven’t got one,” I say through my teeth.

  “That’s good to know.” He smiles, maliciously.

  I blush even more.

  “Want to go grab a coffee?”

  A coffee? With him?

  Mark is a guy I go to school with. We have a lot of classes together but he is specializing in renovation and wants to go to work right after school. I, on the other hand, am planning on doing an internship with the hopes of going on to teach.

  He’s a cute guy, nice and usually smiles a lot. He’s standing in front of me now in total confidence and looks even a bit arrogant while I have just turned every shade of red.

  I don’t mind the attention he pays me. His blue eyes and smile don’t leave me indifferent, and maybe if this thing hadn’t just gone down with Aaron, who knows what might have happened… but Aaron rejected me, I remind myself.

  Just a friend. He thinks of me like a sister. Nothing more.

  His words burn my pride and my dignity too. I hear them echo in my mind over and over again, even if I’m not able to accept it.

  “So? What’s it gonna be?” Mark asks and I realize I haven’t given him my answer yet.

  “I have to be going now.”

  “I see,” he says, disappointed.

  “I’d like to, but my brother’s wedding and you know how it is, everyone is going nuts at home right now, so I’ve got to get back there.”

  “I can give you a lift, I’ve got a car.”

  I consider it for a moment. It’s not like I want to waste an extra half an hour on the bus.

  “But it’s in Howth,” I say doubtfully, biting my lip.

  “I don’t have other plans.” He shrugs and a victory smile spreads across his lips.

  “Oh, why not,” I agree and we head towards the door.

  •••

  We get to the pub after more than forty-five minutes. At this point, the traffic is nuts but the drive wasn’t bad. Mark is a nice guy, always quick to make me laugh. He’s nice company, I’ll admit it. He’s honest and direct and doesn’t hide behind a wall. He just is who he is.

  “This is it.” I indicate the pub on the right.

  “Looks like a cool place,” he says, parking about fifty meters from the entrance.

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Are you busy tonight? I mean… with wedding stuff?”

  “Not really, to be honest. They’re having a stag party tonight and so I’ll be hanging out here to help the girls.”

  “Okay, got it.”

  “What? I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s not important, Ciara, I gave it a try.�
�

  You gave it a try? Where was I?

  I know where I was, with my head someplace else, thinking of someone else and a heart… Well, by now I’ve already played my cards.

  I look at Mark clumsily and maybe he’s eager to get back home but I say, why not?

  “You could come in if you feel like a beer,” I tell him. “The guys won’t be leaving for a while yet.”

  “You don’t have to invite me, I understand—”

  “I want to.” I interrupt him, putting my hand over his, which is resting on the gear lever.

  He looks down for an instant before smiling at me with his whole face coming alive.

  “I’d love to.”

  •••

  Mark opens the door to Only4You and lets me pass. It’s a festive atmosphere and the laughter of the customers hits us right away. It happens every time you come here.

  “Let’s find a table,” I say, before pointing one out by the bar.

  Jay is the first one to see us. As soon as he does, his usual happy expression changes, darkening slightly.

  “Uhm… Hi guys.” He runs his hand through his hair in embarrassment and looks around before returning his attention to us.

  “Hi, Jay. This is my friend, Mark.”

  “Hi, Mark, nice to meet you.”

  “What’ll we have, two Harps?” I ask him.

  “Perfect.”

  Jay nods and makes his way off again, scanning the room. I turn back to the guy who accompanied me here.

  “This is a really cute place,” he remarks.

  “It’s a family place. It’s always so warm and welcoming.”

  “It feels like home.”

  I smile at him and move closer because the music is loud and it’s hard for me to hear what he’s saying. My ear touches his lips and I feel his hot breath on my neck and it gives me goosebumps. I smile in embarrassment and lift my eyes.

  And they remain locked there. Held hostage by his.

  Aaron is at the counter with his hands on the bar top. He’s wearing a fitted shirt that leaves his arms completely exposed and I can make out the rigid muscles and the raised veins.

  He seems tense. Agitated.

  Angry?

  Are you shitting me?

  I pull away from Mark instinctively. He doesn’t seem to notice the change in me and continues talking and making conversation and I can’t follow a single word he’s saying.

  Aaron keeps shooting arrows at me but I will not be the first one to look away. I will not give him the pleasure.

  What the hell does he want? Didn’t he just tell me to push off only twelve hours ago?

  I continue to challenge him with my eyes because I am stubborn and, let’s just be honest, I enjoy hurting myself. Because even after everything he said, there’s a masochist in me that still hopes to find a little spark in his eyes, a flame, anything to make me think there’s a chance.

  And tonight, I would swear that I see a lot more than just a simple hope.

  —

  AARON

  “So, where are we going tonight?” I ask Jay who is near me behind the bar counter.

  “Ah, don’t ask me, Patrick’s planned everything.”

  “Aren’t the friends supposed to organize these things?”

  “You know how he is.”

  I shrug my shoulders and take some empty glasses off the shelf. I set them on the counter waiting for someone to take them out to the back. I give the wood a polish with a wet rag before looking up and suddenly feel all of my muscles tense up.

  Look who just walked in the pub. Some asshole, probably from a rich family, wearing a nice pair of designer jeans, a shirt and a leather jacket, and he’s holding the door open for her.

  I shut my eyes hard, hoping that’ll do the trick to make that image go away, that it’s all just a mind game and caused by the two beers I’ve already thrown back tonight.

  I count to ten and open them again just in time to see the two of them sitting at a table close to the counter.

  That guy irks me. No, that’s not the word. He makes the bile rise up from my stomach, so much so that I have to take another slug of my beer, hoping that it’ll stay down where it’s supposed to be.

  I don’t like him. At all.

  I put both my hands on the surface in front of me, grabbing the edges of the counter, and I can feel the tension in my arms.

  “Calm the fuck down,” Jay says through clenched teeth before going over to the couple I’m looking at.

  In front of such a scene a normal balanced right-thinking man should remain indifferent. Especially when he’s just told the woman sitting there with that spineless, silly puppet, that he feels nothing for her, that she’s just a friend. He should behave like a normal person, be calm and balanced. His words should align with his actions.

  But I am anything but mentally stable and not at all in possession of my faculties, whether they be physical, mental, psychiatric or whatever the hell else you wanna throw in there. I am not in control of anything right now but have been taken over by an irrational and very inopportune rage that is threatening to choke me or lead me to choke someone else with my bare hands, right here tonight.

  “Pour me two Harps,” Jay says, coming back to the bar counter but keeping an eye on the scene. But I don’t listen to him, I just stand there, staring at them.

  He huffs and comes around the bar to prepare the beers himself before returning to their table. As he’s heading back my way I see Ciara move towards the man she’s with, as if she’s about to kiss him.

  And I jump on the bar counter, ready to leap over it and rush across to this guy and break his face and everything else in my way, but Jay grabs my shirt, forcing my backwards.

  “That’s not a good idea, Friend.”

  I nod and close my eyes, leaning against the bar counter.

  “You need to deal with this,” Jay whispers. “Don’t cause a scene before the wedding and not during it either. Can you hear me? Either go to her and tell her very plainly that you were an idiot or drop it and mind your own business. Is that clear? No bullshit, Aaron. We all need a bit of break from that shit, for God’s sake!”

  I nod again, breathing in slowly and realizing that Jay is right. I was the one with the final word on this topic before we could even get started.

  I made my decision.

  To fix this problem. I have the solution.

  So why can’t I stop eating my own stomach and liver at the sight of him breathing on her neck?

  And then Ciara raises her glance just a bit, but it’s enough to catch me staring at her.

  Now is the moment I should stop looking at her like a fucking deranged maniac. I should just go back to my job and never think about her in the arms of another man again. Because she could leave with this guy and… Shit. Don’t think about it.

  Ciara continues looking at me with an insolent air and eyes, double-dog-daring me to look away. I’m the adult here, I’m the one who said I wanted nothing from her. I should lower my gaze and let it go.

  Right.

  Let her go.

  With him?

  Not a chance.

  If that jackass wants to walk outta here on his own legs tonight he’d better walk out that door alone and forget about her, her name and all other dirty thoughts that are going through his mind right now or I’ll pummel him.

  Don’t look at me like that, Ciara. Please, let it go.

  Let me go.

  Don’t feed this thing… don’t provoke my heart because I can feel it, it’s here beating and pushing me, trying to advance its own agenda, but the heart’s reasons are no longer reasonable.

  You let go first because I’m not able to do it right now. I’m not in control of my instincts, which are screaming at me to jump over the counter and rush this guy and bring you away with me.

  Oh Lord, how have we gotten to this point?

  How have I gotten here?

  The girl does not desist. She will not. Because she’s un
derstood that the strong one between us isn’t me. That I’m not the one laying out the rules of the game, that I have no control over this emotion that is making me lose my mind along with another part of me, a very significant part.

  She won’t let go because she’s read me from the inside, that night on the roof. And again, yesterday evening when I tried to pull off that bullshit. And now, I’m revealing to her that she’s taken possession of my mind, that she’s running in my veins, poisoning my blood and my soul, not to mention the word heart. She’s testing out the flavor of it in her mouth as she slowly comes to realize, with every minute that passes, that she’s got my heart in the palm of her hand.

  She knows that it’s hers and that I can’t have it back.

  And who the hell wants it back?

  She can have it, she can do what she wants with it, because if I can’t have her, I surely won’t need it anymore.

  Let me go, Ciara.

  Now.

  Or I won’t be able to go on lying to myself.

  11

  CIARA

  I ask Mark to excuse me and get up from the table to go to the bathroom. I need to rinse off my face and cool down a little bit and to get away from him and his hard, dangerous stare.

  What is it that he’s trying to do? Intimidate me?

  He didn’t want me, now what is it that he’s demanding?

  I close the door behind me and look in the mirror. My face is still aflame, with rage, embarrassment and because of my own thoughts.

  He can’t keep sending me these mixed signals. He can’t say what he did and then lynch me with his eyes because I’m in the company of another boy.

  I dry my face and hands and inhale deeply. I open the bathroom door and practically slam into him.

  “What… Were you spying on me, by any chance?”

  “What are you doing here with that guy?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.”

  “What I don’t understand, Aaron, is what it is that you want. And, to be quite honest, I don’t really think what I do is any of your business after what you’ve made clear to me,” I reply dryly, turning to head back towards the bar.