Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

RYLEE

S eeing Simon at my door still felt like a dream. The ride on the private plane was amazing. When we pulled up to the Abbey Court Hostel, my heart raced with excitement. I was so ready to reunite with my tour group. I knew this was not his typical accommodations. But I didn't want him to leave and I knew the man needed and deserved a break.

The hostel was as charming as I'd imagined, bursting with color and life, artwork adorning the walls, and a basement bar where laughter and music flowed freely. When Claire had told me about it, I knew it was the place I wanted to be at.

When we walked into the room, I wasn't entirely sure what to expect from my new friends. They might have already forgotten me. It wasn't like we really knew each other.

"Rylee, you made it!" shouted Claire, her eyes wide with surprise when we walked into the room.

"We thought you were stuck in Rome!" added one of the Canadian brothers.

I grinned, holding up my newly acquired passport. "I got a little help from a friend," I said, glancing at Simon.

After making the introductions and quickly establishing Simon was not the oil guy, I felt him relax. This was a chance to give the man a break from the drama.

The girls quickly pulled me aside, their eyes flicking over to Simon with curiosity and more than a little admiration. The guys were talking to Simon about a bar they were getting ready to head out to.

"Who's the hunky man on your arm?" one of the girls whispered, barely able to contain her excitement.

I laughed, feeling a warm blush creep up my cheeks. "Simon," I explained. "He's the reason I'm here. He pulled some strings and flew all the way here to get me a new passport. And then he brought me here on his private jet."

Their jaws dropped in unison. "So he's actually the guy, right?" Claire asked. "I'm not crazy."

I just smiled and shrugged. "He's a good man."

"Well, he's gorgeous," one said.

They began fawning over him from a distance, clearly impressed.

"Let's go," one of the guys called out.

"We're doing a pub crawl," Claire announced. "We're starting in the basement bar."

"I guess we got here just in time." I laughed.

"Let's go!"

Simon looked at me with some apprehension in his eyes. I gave him a slight nod, reassuring him it was okay. I reached out my hand, taking his.

"Let's have fun," I said, giving him a reassuring smile.

And so we did. Simon seemed hesitant at first, but his discomfort eased once we got into the bar.

"Come on, man, join us for a drink!" one of the guys called out, handing Simon an Irish beer.

I watched as Simon took the beer and joined in their laughter. This was the Simon I wished I could have spent more time with in Houston.

The hostel's basement bar was lively, full of young travelers eager to explore Dublin and experience its famous nightlife. Me and the girls sipped on the stout ales while the guys were moving through them a lot faster.

"Oh no." Claire laughed when the guys went to the rec area in the pub. There were a couple of ping-pong tables and dartboards.

Simon, despite his initial hesitation, quickly found himself roped into a game of ping-pong. I couldn't help but laugh as he struggled to keep up, clearly out of practice.

"You're terrible at this!" one of the Canadian brothers teased, smacking the ball past Simon yet again.

"Just wait until we play darts," Simon retorted with a grin. "Then we'll see who's got skills."

The guys laughed. It was good to see him letting loose and really having fun. The girls and I watched the guys move to the dartboard.

"I have a feeling he's going to kill this," I said with a laugh.

True to his word, Simon dominated the dart game, impressing everyone with his skills. The room erupted in cheers and laughter as he won round after round. I stood with the girls, watching him, feeling a swell of pride and happiness.

That was my man.

Soon, a game of beer pong began. The night really got underway after that. Simon draped an arm around me as we watched the others take their turn. He was so relaxed. He kissed the top of my head like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The basement bar was filled with the sound of clinking glasses, raucous laughter, and friendly competition. I couldn't remember the last time I had so much fun.

"Let's move on," Claire said.

We left and headed to the Temple Bar District. It was just a short walk from the hostel. We spilled out onto the street to find a buzzing crowd of young people ready to experience Dublin's famous nightlife.

Simon kept his arm around my shoulders in a protective gesture. We wandered into a bar with lively music and a packed dance floor. I grabbed Simon's hand, feeling a rush of excitement. "I want to dance," I told him, pulling him toward the dance floor.

He hesitated, looking uncertain. "I'm not much of a dancer," he admitted.

I gave him a playful smile. "I didn't come all this way not to dance at an Irish bar. I might have forgiven you, but you owe me this."

He smiled. "How can I argue with that?" he said with a resigned smile.

He let me lead him onto the dance floor. The music thumped around us as he pulled me into his arms. I felt the bass in my veins, urging me to let go and get lost in the moment. The ale certainly helped.

The colorful lights flashed and blurred as we moved to the beat. Simon's initial stiffness melted away, and he began to relax, his movements becoming more fluid and natural. I laughed, feeling a giddy sense of freedom and joy. I stepped back and did a few dance moves before he grabbed my hips and pulled me close once again.

I looked up at Simon, his face illuminated by the flashing lights. In that moment, everything else faded away. The noise, the crowd, the world around us—it all disappeared. There was only him and me and the music pulsing through our bodies.

When the song changed, we walked off the dance floor and back to the table with our friends. We finished a drink and then moved onto another pub.

Each bar we sauntered into was filled with a different kind of energy. Some had the thrumming beat of live music, others the clamor of friendly chatter and the clinking of glasses, but all of them shared the same vibrant pulse that was so uniquely Dublin. This was exactly why I wanted to come here. I knew this was where I needed to be. I never would have thought I would ever have this much fun.

I glanced over at Simon and the other guys. He was in his element. He was gracious and charming, captivating everyone he spoke to with his jokes. His eyes crinkled when he laughed, a genuine smile lighting up his face. Each moment I spent with him only made my affection for him grow stronger. This man, this version of Simon, was so different. He was like ten years younger.

"I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone," Claire said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I'm not going to say I know what I know, but he doesn't look like the guy that I saw on TV," she replied.

"I know." I nodded. "Trust me, I know. When I first met him, I did all I could to push that man away. I knew his reputation. I wanted nothing to do with that."

"But something changed?" Claire asked.

I sighed softly, nodding. "Something or rather someone," I said, glancing at Simon who was now attempting to teach a group of eager people how to throw darts properly. "It turns out he's not just the man the world perceives him to be."

"That doesn't surprise me," Claire stated. "People are rarely what they seem."

"That's true," I agreed. "He has to insulate himself from what the world thinks."

"Especially with all the crazy stuff happening back home," she said in a low voice.

"Exactly. I don't think he trusts easily. We spent some time together. That's when I realized there was so much more to him than meets the eye."

Claire nodded thoughtfully. Simon was now engaged in a lively conversation with a group of locals at the bar. His smile was genuine, and for the moment, he seemed truly at peace.

"I'm glad you found that connection with him," she said softly. "He seems nice."

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. "He is."

We crawled to the next pub, and by that point we were getting closer to the crawling stage with the amount of alcohol flowing. Once again, there was loud music I recognized booming through the club.

Simon gave me a look. "Yeah?" he asked without me having to ask him the question.

"Hell, yeah." I grinned.

He was the one that grabbed me and dragged me onto the dance floor. We danced freely, lost in the music and the moment. Simon's movements were more confident now, his body swaying to the rhythm effortlessly. I felt a surge of happiness watching him enjoy himself without any inhibitions.

There was something about him I found absolutely irresistible. I knew he was dangerous, and I shouldn't want him, but dammit, I did. I was crazy about this man that was absolutely going to destroy me if I let myself get too close.

"What are you thinking?" he asked as we danced.

I placed my hands on his shoulders. "I'm thinking about how much I'm enjoying this moment with you," I replied, looking into his eyes.

Simon grinned, spinning us around before pulling me back into his arms. "I'm glad you dragged me onto the dance floor. You were right. This is fun."

"When is the last time you got to dance?" I asked him. "Without anyone watching you or trying to take your picture."

"Or throwing shit at me." He laughed.

"What?" I asked with a frown. "Is that happening?"

He groaned. "You have no idea how much shit gets thrown at me. I'm in the oil business. I'm the villain in many people's opinions."

"I can't even imagine what that must be like," I said. "It's not fair for people to judge you without knowing the real you."

Simon nodded. "Well, it comes with the territory, I suppose. Can't please everyone, right? And I have a hell of a security team. I just have to keep doing what I do."

"That's true," I agreed, feeling a surge of protectiveness toward him. He had been nothing but kind and genuine since we met. The idea of people hurling insults or worse at him made my blood boil. Especially when it came to his family. It still pissed me off that they didn't stand up for him. They were bigger bullies than the public and the mob that tried to hurt him.

As we danced, I felt a sense of connection growing between us. It was more than just a physical attraction. There was a deeper understanding that seemed to bridge the gap between our worlds. Yes, he was arrogant and a little abrasive, but underneath that prickly outer layer, I had found the real Simon.

Without thinking, I leaned in and kissed him again. It was a bold, impulsive move, but it felt right. His lips were warm and soft, and for a moment, the world stood still. His tongue pushed at my lips until I opened my mouth.

He tasted like the ale we had been drinking, mixed with a hint of something sweet that lingered on his lips. His hands slid down my back, pulling me closer. It was a whirlwind of sensation, overwhelming yet exhilarating. This was exactly what I wanted.