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“It’s my favorite one of theirs,” I told her, palms sweating under her scrutiny.
“Me too,” she said softly. “My great-granda Murphy used to sing this to me when I was little.”
I glanced over at her. “Yeah?”
Shannon nodded in confirmation. “Yeah, whenever I got scared or nervous, he would always sit me on his lap and sing those lyrics in my ear.” She sighed contently. “And it always worked.”
For some unknown reason, I made a mental note of that piece of information and stored it away for future reference.
Shannon was silent then, clearly immersed in the song.
Meanwhile, I held the steering wheel with a death grip, desperately trying to concentrate on the road ahead and not the girl sitting beside me, fucking up my well-laid plans.
“Do you have an iPod?” I asked when I pulled up outside her house—her actual house this time.
I was stalling, not wanting her to get out of my car. The pang of disappointment I felt when we reached our destination was the same one that consumed me every time she left, and that was incredibly disconcerting.
“I could put some of my music on it for you,” I offered. “If you’d like?”
“Me?” Shannon blushed bright pink and shook her head. “Uh, no, I could never afford one of those.” She unfastened her seat belt. “I use an old CD Discman of Joey’s to listen to music.”
I nodded nonchalantly, while mentally kicking the shite out of myself for being so dense.
“You like the classics?” I blurted out, feeling all panicky when she reached for the door handle.
“Yes,” she replied, turning back to face me, eyes bright with excitement. “Do you?”
“I like a lot of stuff,” I told her.
You, most of all.
“Shake it off, baby?”
My brows shot up. “Excuse me?”
“‘Shake It Off, Baby.’” Shannon stared back at me, all innocent and cute. “Do you like it?”
It took me a few seconds to realize she wasn’t calling me baby and that she was referring to a song.
“You mean ‘Twist and Shout,’” I corrected gruffly. “Yeah, that’s a good one.”
“Do you like Reckless Kelly?” she asked then.
I shook my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of them.”
“They have this new song out called ‘Wicked Twisted Road,’” she explained. “Are you sure you haven’t heard it?”
My heart stopped in my chest.
That song from the pub. The one that fucked with my head.
Jesus…
“You should,” Shannon continued to say. “Listen to it, I mean.” Her cheeks turned pink when she said, “It reminds me of you.”
Rattled. I was thoroughly fucking rattled by this girl.
Partly because I had related to the words of that song, but mostly because she related the words of the song to me.
