Chapter 19

19

PATRICK

“ I just saw Maddie practically running down the street,” Noreen says while I pour her second pint. “She looked upset.”

I don’t look up or acknowledge her words, but my whole body tenses.

Shite.

I’m such a fecking arse. Of course she’s upset. I did what I always do. Sound like an arsehole. How did this happen, I texted her. It’s not your fault, I said but obviously, she didn’t believe me.

Leave.

I saw the look on her face before she bolted out of here. She wasn’t just mad. She was hurt. I hurt her. I knew I would do it eventually, but this soon?

“Everything okay?” Concern etches Noreen’s face as I slide the full pint of Guinness to her. She leans forward on the bar, her curls falling over her shoulders. “I guess the rumor that you two have a thing going on is true, then?”

Anger flares inside me and I rest my palms on the bar.

It is none of Noreen’s business that I have something going on with Maddie. Noreen’s kindness is annoying as hell, especially after—no. Feck that.

“Everything’s fine.”

Noreen takes the hint and retreats with the pair of pints, a worried look thrown back over her shoulder as she hands her boyfriend his drink.

It was Noreen who hammered the last nail in the coffin that held my heart.

She was the one I dated after getting back to Dingle. I tried with her. Tried letting her in. She was so sweet and pretty. She wanted to be my friend, and then she wanted more. Why not, I’d thought.

But I couldn’t open myself up to her.

Her words from when she broke it off echo in my head and my empty heart: It’s like there’s nothing there, she’d said . Maybe you’d be better off alone.

I didn’t try to fight back. It was almost a relief that she ended it before I could make more of a mess of things. I walked away.

She was right. There was nothing left beneath my surface. Cara destroyed me.

And Noreen’s killed me with kindness ever since.

Feck this town and all the nosy people in it. Feck those who’ve found me lacking—Noreen, Cara, and the string of women I dated before who used me for my status as a professional soccer player.

But Maddie? I don’t know. She doesn’t find me lacking, does she? Or have I already ruined things with her by being myself?

When Maddie walks back through the door forty-five minutes later, a rush of relief washes over me.

She came back.

I step aside and let her slide back behind the bar and serve some of the crowd of people who are waiting. Ronan is here, but it’s a Friday night and we could use another hand.

But I ignore the crowd, the waiting customers trying to make eye contact with me, and watch Maddie. Her cheeks are flushed and her long, dark hair hangs over her bare shoulders. She went out without a jacket, of course, because this woman does not give a feck about winter in Ireland.

While I’m furious that we lost another bartender, it’s not Maddie’s fault. I’m mad at myself. And the inventory issue? Also my responsibility in the end. I shouldn’t have offloaded so much to her. It’s not fair. She’s been working here for eleven days.

But me? I’m screwing things up at the bar and the brewery.

Worse: I’m fecking it up with Maddie.

“Hey.” She steps next to me and grabs a bottle of New Dingle from the fridge. I want to push her hair aside and nuzzle into her neck while running my hands along her waist and hips. Christ, do I want that.

“Madison . . .”

She looks at me, but I can’t bring myself to apologize. I can’t say the words. I was never good at saying sorry to Cara when we were together.

I didn’t even know Cara in the end. I came home once and gave her a silver necklace with a small pink stone that I’d picked up at the airport at an expensive jewelry shop. Cara opened the package and stared at it. I only wear gold, she’d said, and then looked at me like I was a stranger.

And I was. I couldn’t even figure out one gift to give her.

After that, I’d asked her to move to England with me. We’d make it work. I was committed. But she gave me another look and said Dingle was her home.

Except when she made Dublin her home.

She apologized after I found her with the American banker. Didn’t try to deny it. Didn’t fight for us. I didn’t need that apology.

What kind of gift would I buy Maddie, anyway? I bet I can’t think of a thing.

But... I’ve already done it. I bought her that bike from my neighbor. It’s good quality and will keep her safe. Stupid use of my money. I’m a fecking eejit, there’s no denying that.

I don’t finish my sentence, so Maddie goes back to serving.

We don’t say a word for the next few hours. At ten o’clock, she looks exhausted. She needs rest.

“I’ll close. Go home.” I lean down to say it in her ear as we stand side by side at the bar and watch a pair of women Irish dancing on the stage to lively music.

The words go home come out less harsh than before, but the look she gives me doesn’t confirm that.

Sometimes I can’t even tell when I’m being an arse.

I’ll figure out a way to make up with her tomorrow morning. Or maybe I won’t, because there’s absolutely no point in trying to make things work between us. We’re not in a relationship. This is all incredibly temporary, no matter how big it feels in the moment.

I’m no one’s adventure.

Maddie turns to me, her face crumpled. She waits for a beat, during which I do absolutely nothing.

Then she’s gone.