Page 104 of Twist of Fate
“Have you told her this?”
“Christ, no,” I answer. “We’ve both acknowledged we were into each other that first night, but we agreed it can’t go beyond friendship.”
“Agreed or settled?” he asks. “What if you weren’t her tour guide? Would that change anything?”
I breathe out a sigh as I sit on the edge of the hotel bed. I’ve already packed everything back into my suitcase, and all that’s left to do is head down to the dining room for breakfast. However, it doesn’t open for another thirty minutes. Hence, the early morning SOS call to Rian.
Lucky him.
“No. Yes?” I flop onto my back. “I don’t know. She was literally supposed to get married this week, Rian.”
“Damn. That’s intense. Who called it off?”
“She did. He cheated on her. Actually—” I sit back up and open my Google tab. “You might know him?”
“Why would you assume that? Do you know how many people live in the States? You know my mam does that, too, right? ‘Ri-Ri, Fannie at the salon has a client whose daughter lives in the States. She lives in Montana. Is that close to you? Maybe you could grab a spot of tea?’ I mean, Christ, Finn, I know she knows how to use a bleedin’ map.”
I roll my eyes, chuckling under my breath. I haven’t traveled as much as my globe-trotting friend, but his parents? I doubt they’ve ever left their small village in Kerry, even though Rian has offered to take them somewhere.
I find Theo’s picture on the Madrid team web page and send Rian the link. “He’s a football player. Look at the?—”
“Oh, shit. This guy?” he says, having already pulled it up.
“Yeah, they’d been together since secondary school.”
“That’s—”
“Intense, yeah. You already said that. Got anything else? ’Cause I don’t know what to do. Do I tell her and face possible rejection, or do I not tell her and live with the inevitable regret?
“What happened to ‘Finn doesn’t date’? I thought you didn’t want any distractions?”
“I didn’t,” I say. “I still don’t. But, shit, Rian. This girl is different.”
“I’m a technical guy, Finney. I work with numbers and absolutes. I’m going to need you to define the word ‘different’ because this is starting to feel like the plot of a cheesy rom-com.”
“I hate you.”
“That’s not what you said when you had your tongue down my throat in uni.”
“You’re the eejit who got in line at our own bleedin’ kissing booth!”
“It was for a good cause!”
“Really, and what was that exactly?”
Silence follows. “Um?—‘
“Exactly. And for the record, it was your tongue in my mouth, not the other way around. I really hope you don’t kiss like that when you’re sober.”
“I’ve never had any complaints, sober or otherwise. Why don’t you kiss Aisling, and then she and I can compare notes?” He snickers.
“That’s never happening.”
“Okay, so what makes her different? Out of all the other women on the planet, why does this one stand out? By the way, I’m still waiting on a pic.”
“I never said I’d send you a picture.”
“Context, Finn—wait, no need. I found her Instagram. Oh, look at my smitten best lad all cozied up with the American girl. Christ, she’s hot. Okay, proceed.”
