Page 95 of The Secret We Keep
“Yeah?” I turn my headto look at him.
“Your seatbelt?” His eyes flick down.
Right.The belt whirs as I zip it across my body, then my hands grip the wheel tightly.
“You’re safe with me,” Paddy says, hand resting firmly in place on my leg. All sorts of fireworks explode inside me. A blast of heat rushing to places I’ve only ever dreamed about him touching.
Trying to focus, I smile weakly, but feel reassured, nonetheless.
“Want some music on in the background? It might make you relax.”
I don’t know if anything can take my mind off the man sitting beside me.“Mm-hmm.”
Taking his hand off me, Paddy turns on the radio. “Background noise, background noise,” he says to himself, flicking through his phone for something and turning a button. “Here.”
Gentle music slips into the car.
Paddy grins to himself.
“Really?”
“What?” he says, but I know exactly what he’s doing.
Paddy turns up the volume a little. The vibrations from the speakers make me relax as Shania Twain’sDon’t Be Stupid, You Know I Love Youplays through the speakers.
I instantly relax into my seat, loosening the death-grip I have on the wheel. “I’m not doing it.” I look out the corner of my eye at him, vivid memories of me serenading everybody to it at one of our sleepovers, racing through my mind.
A soft laugh tugs at his lips as he looks down at me. “No one’s here to see.”
“You’rehere,” I groan.
He shrugs, smiling. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Lord help me. I close my eyes. “No.”
“Please.”
“Fuck off.” My heart races in double time.
“That’s right, you need patio furniture to be able to do it properly.”
I slap the side of his leg, spotting his wide grin.
He looks so pleased with himself as he runs his thumb over his bottom lip. “Oh come on, you owned that table like you were the headline act. I really thought Shania was singing in my garden.”
“Okay, now you’re being mean, creeper,” I deadpan.
“Creeper?”
“Yeah. You were a creep. Watching a young girl singing like you did.”
Paddy flusters in his seat. “Well, when you say it like that, yeah, you make me sound bad. But I wasn’t just staring, I was… shit, I don’t know.” Paddy’s shoulders hunch. “You seemed happy. Content. You didn’t care what others thought of you. You just did what made you happy, I guess. It was nice to see.”
My head drops when I remember what felt like a much simpler time. Clearly, I’m quiet for too long, because as the music begins to build, Paddy starts singing under his breath, looking out of his window.
He begins giving me his best rendition, shoulders jigging, a wide smile breaking on his face.
“Paddy.”
