Page 56 of A Merry Irish Christmas
‘No, no need for that. Knock yourself out.’ She shivered as she felt his fingers in her hair, his light touch sending tingles across her scalp. Then he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
She lifted her head and something shifted between them as their eyes locked. They were so close Mary could feel Evan’s breath on her face. His arm was still around her, and she wanted to lean into it, to snuggle into the warmth of his body and rub her face against the stubble of his jaw. His gaze dropped to her mouth and she knew he was going to kiss her, her heart racing in anticipation. He had such nice lips…
‘Mary?’ His fingers stilled in her hair and he pulled back a little.
‘Mmm?’ she murmured drowsily.
‘You want to watch the rest of the movie?’
‘Oh! Sure.’ She nodded, dazed as he broke eye contact and turned his attention to the screen.
He took his arm from around her shoulders and picked up the remote. ‘I think we both need to see this guy get his comeuppance, right?’
‘Definitely.’ She shifted away from him, sitting upright. ‘Sorry about the meltdown,’ she murmured.
‘No problem.’
The movie resumed playing, but Mary couldn’t concentrate on what was happening on screen. She was too focused on trying to talk herself out of her gut-wrenching disappointment that Evan hadn’t kissed her. But it was a good thing nothing had happened, she told herself. She’d probably misread the whole situation anyway. She’d had too much Bailey’s and she wasfeeling wobbly and in need of comfort after rehashing the whole thing with Greg. It would have been a mistake to go there. Evan was still heartbroken after his break-up with Olivia, and she did not need to get hung up on another man who was still in love with someone else.
19
Mary said goodnight and went to bed as soon as the movie was over, leaving Evan still sitting on the sofa watching TV. But though she was tired, she felt restless and wired, and couldn’t sleep.
What was wrong with her? She was supposed to be heartbroken. She’d just been dumped in the most spectacular, humiliating way possible by the man she’d been with for two years. She should be mourning that relationship, but instead all she could think about was the incredibly hot man downstairs and his award-winning kissing. Images of Evan kept flitting across her mind – half-naked on the beach this morning, at dinner in the O’Sullivans’ in the lovely Aran jumper she’d bought him, laughing with her friends in the pub, playing with Charlie, sitting next to her on the sofa downstairs, almost kissing her…
She was glad of the distraction when her phone pinged with a message. But when she picked it up, she was annoyed to see it was from Greg.
Happy Christmas, Mary! I hear it’s a white one in NY.
She typed back furiously:
I wouldn’t know, I’m in Dingle.
He responded:
Oh great! So you got home to your folks after all. I’m so glad.
Oh, fuck off, Greg, you patronising shithead.
Nope. They didn’t know I was coming, and they went to NY to be with me. So I’m here on my own.
No need to tell him she had company and that he hadn’t managed to completely ruin Christmas for her. She wasn’t having a terrible time, but that was no thanks to him and she wasn’t about to let him off the hook.
The message ‘Greg is typing’ flashed up briefly, then disappeared. Then it started up again –Greg is typing,Greg is typing,Greg is typing. It started and stopped, started and stopped, but no text appeared. Ha! That had shut him up. Eventually, it seemed he’d finally given up on trying to find a way to reply and she put her phone back on the nightstand, plugging it in to charge. She fluffed up the pillows, flicked off the bedside light and tried to put all thoughts of Greg and Evan out of her head.
Downstairs, Evan stared unseeingly at the TV. He was ostensibly watching an old horror movie, but his mind was elsewhere and he couldn’t for the life of him have said what was going on. There was some sort of monster on the loose and a lot of people running around screaming, but he couldn’t focus on the story. All he could think about was the fact that he’d almost kissed Mary.
That would have been a really bad move, and luckily he’d stopped himself in time. He liked her a lot and she was fun to be around – not to mention extremely cute – but they were both on the rebound, and she was clearly still hung up on this Greg dude, even though he sounded like a total dick. He was having a nice time with her, and he wasn’t going to screw it up by making a move on her. He tried to ignore the fact that she’d looked like she’d have been into it. Even if she had been, she’d probably have regretted it in the morning and then things would be weird and awkward between them for the rest of his time here.
His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing – Max finally calling him back.
‘Hi, Evan! Happy Christmas!’ Max’s tone was bright and chirpy, but there was an undercurrent of wariness to it, like he knew he was in trouble and was trying to pre-empt a telling-off.
‘Happy Christmas. Why haven’t you been answering my calls?’
‘Sorry. We were at Ben’s parents’ and they’re very strict about not having phones at the table. It’s a whole thing with them. They’re sort of hippies.’
‘Right. But I’ve been calling you for days. You’re not trying to tell me you’ve been at the table the entire time?’
