Page 132 of The Secret We Keep
I squeal excitedly. “A piggyback would have worked.”
“In that belt you call a skirt? No way.”
Then I frown. “You can’t carry me all the way home like this, Paddy O’Keefe. You’ll exhaust yourself.”
He lets out a proper laugh then. “Come on, curly fries. I’ve carried you before.”
“When?” I question, as he manages to open the garden gate. It’s only now I realise that we’re outside.
“When you fell off that horse after yours and Fi’s one and only riding lesson.”
I snort a laugh. “I completely forgot about that.”
He kicks the gate shut. “You two were a right pair of goons. Falling off a horse that wasn’t even moving.”
“He was,” I protest lazily, feeling my eyelids getting heavier. “Uh,” I grumble, letting my head fall against his chest. “I don’t remember the last time I was this drunk, but I had fun tonight, Paddy.”
“I’m glad, curly fries.”
“Why?” I hiccup. “Because you feel sorry for me?”
Paddy’s feet momentarily stop. “No. I don’t feel sorry for you.”
“Ifeel sorry for me.”
I feelhim sigh. “Why?”
“Because… because you said we’re official, but I know you met with another woman when you said you were seeing Tom.”
His whole body stiffens.
“See,” I slap a hand to his pec. “That’s why I feel sorry for myself.”
“It’s not what you think, Morgan.”
Rolling my head against him, I’m not sure if what I want to say will come out how I intend it to, but I give it my best go. “Holly thinks I’m overreacting, but I don’t care.”
He looks down at me blankly.
“I don’t care anymore. And I know I’m drunk, but it’s the God’s honest truth. You and me… I think one day you’re going to break my heart.” I wish being in his arms didn’t bring me the comfort it does, because I know it’s not real. “You pity me.”
“Morgan—”
I lift a hand to his lips, swallowing the burning lump in my throat. “You pity me, and yet, you’re the only person I trust. I don’t know what that says about me, that I would want someone even though they couldn’t give me all of them, but I showed you my boobs, and you told me you wouldn’t have sex with me. I know you like me, Paddy O’Keefe,” I drag my eyes open, “your eyes tell me that you do.”
Paddy blinks, long and heartbreakingly slow.
“But I’m not what you want. As much as I have wanted you over the years, I will never have you the way Hannah did, or the lady, or any of the girls from school did.”
“Please, Morgan. Just stop.”
I shake my head, pushing myself reluctantly away from him.
Carefully, he guides my feet to the floor, and it shouldn’t, but it annoys me.
“Stop trying to help me.” I stagger forwards, my knees coming into contact with the hard ground. “Shit.” Feeling his arm on me, I snatch mine away. “I’m fine without you, Paddy.”
He sighs heavily. “Will you let me help you to your feet?”
