Page 61 of An Irish Summer

“Another successful Variety Show, huh?” Lars asked, slinginghis long arm around Flo’s shoulders before either of us even noticed he was there.

“How do you even know all these people?” Flo asked. “Do they really all work here?”

“Of course they do.” Lars laughed. “If you’d get out of the kitchen more often, maybe you’d get to know them.”

“If someone hired another chef, maybe I’d have the chance.”

“Touché,” Lars said. “What about you, Chelsea? Did you enjoy the show?”

“I did,” I said, fearful of how my voice would sound when I tried talking above a whisper. I still felt dizzy and unsteady from Collin’s performance, and I was toeing the dangerous line between happily buzzed and too drunk.

“Did you have a favorite?” he asked.

“I think we all know the answer to that,” Flo mumbled, not at all under her breath. I stepped on her foot, and Lars threw his head back, roaring.

“I should have known,” he said.

“Martawasinspiring, wasn’t she?” I said, finding my voice and trying to keep it from wobbling. “I thought her poetry was really powerful.”

“Which parts?” Flo asked. “The parts about love or the parts about sex?”

“You’re impossible,” I said. “You know that?”

“You should talk.”

“Keep it up and I’ll leave Ireland right now,” I said.

“D’you mean it?” Collin materialized beside Lars, and I had to remind myself how to breathe.

“Would it kill you if I did?” I could hear the gentle slur in my voice, but I hoped he couldn’t do the same.

“Ah, you liked the Leannán Sídhe stories, did ya?”

“Ilistenedto the Leannán Sídhe stories,” I said, trying to keep us on solid ground, even if I couldn’t quite feel it under my feet anymore. “I didn’t say anything about liking them.”

“You didn’t have to. Your face gives everything away, remember?”

“What’s it telling you now?”

“That we should talk,” he said pointedly, glancing over my shoulder toward the door.

“On that note,” Lars said to Flo, “feels like we should go get another drink, doesn’t it?”

“We just got another drink,” Flo said, obviously wanting to stay for whatever drama was unfolding.

“Youjust got another drink,” Lars said, grabbing her arm. “I’m empty-handed. Let’s go.”

It only took a second after they were gone for Collin to close the space between us, resting his hands on my elbows and ducking his head slightly to meet my eyes. My head was a dangerous combination of beer, emotions, and loud Dutch club music.

“Are you okay?” he asked, tilting my chin up and clocking the way I held my hair off the back of my neck.

“Yeah,” I said. “I just need some air, I think.” His staring only amplified the spinning, and I had no choice but to let him lead me out of the party with a warm hand on my elbow.

When we finally made it outside, I took a breath so deep it made me lightheaded. I grabbed the back of a lawn chair to keep from wobbling and tried to focus on breathing normally, which was nearly impossible with Collin’s hands on my waist holding me up.

“Here,” he said, brushing some dirt off the chair and gesturing for me to sit.

“This is so dramatic,” I moaned. “I’m fine now, really. Go back to the party.”

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