Page 74 of Experiments in Offline Dating

Tadhg held the seat back for me while I attempted to squeeze my ass in with great effort, inadvertently giving him a front-row seat to the ass show, as was our usual custom. When I finally got it in, I looked up to notice that Finn was watching me with what looked very much like a smug expression. I had only been awake for a half hour. One thing that I most assuredly did not have time for was Finn’s main-character energy. “What are you looking at? If you would sit in the back like a good dog, I wouldn’t have to debase myself.”

“Easy, Davis. We’ll get your caffeine. Calm your ham.”

“My ham? That sure as hell better not be an ass joke.”

He let out the snort but neither confirmed nor denied. “The next time you need a hand pushing your ass through the door, just let me know. I’ve two at the ready—free of charge.”

Terror flooded my veins. That was objectively cheeky. Ignore the pun. However, I also knew it to be an objective truth that Tadhg Kelly was not a cheeky chap. Tadhg Kelly was a surly and curmudgeonly crocodile.

Oh, God. This is it! Things are already different! I was confused. And undercaffeinated. Was he making fun of me? Was he flirting? Did that mean he wanted to touch my ass again? Or did it mean he’d be happy to shove me? How the hell was I supposed to know? And how the ever-loving shit was I supposed to respond?

“Here. Something tells me you’ll like this place,” Tadhg said as we rolled up to a pub-cum-café, saving me from the trauma of constructing an adequate response. Thank fuck for small mercies. We’ll just go in there and get coffee, like two normal people whose minds are not constantly straying to images of each other’s naked bodies, and forget all about that comment.

It was called the Shire. The outside had a little garden and a circle around the entry reminiscent of Bilbo’s front door, and the inside was every bit as adorable, making use of rounded archways, florals, and antler chandeliers. The floor was grassy Astroturf, and there were signs for the Prancing Pony and Mordor, and lots of little LOTR details, which made me fall all the more in love with it. I took some photos to show my parents, then remembered that I was technically at work and snapped a few selfies to send to Simone.

“I love this place! How did you know?”

“You’re easy to read.”

“Am not.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve all the mystery of a neon sign.”

Rude. Oh . . . rude is great. Perfect, actually! A strong indicator that we can go back to our ongoing asshole competition and business as usual.

But as I squeed over the adorable menu of themed coffee names like Shire Spice Latte and the Eye-Opener of Sauron, I couldn’t help noticing that he was watching me with a soft expression that looked a little bit . . . pleased, if such a man were capable of said emotion. He liked that he had made me happy. I didn’t know what that meant at all! My brain spiraled. It instantly came up with about a hundred questions, and a billion possible answers. Not helpful, overanalytical brain! Bad brain! Bad!

“You know, you’d make a pretty good Hobbit. All that curly hair, and you’re Hobbit-sized.”

“What? I’m five-ten. That’s tall for a woman. I’m only Hobbit-sized to you because you’re Orc-sized.”

He laughed. “I’d bet anything you have some of those stick-on fairy ears at home.”

I scoffed and resolutely did not confess that I had several pairs. “Are you teasing me right now? Is that what this is?” I decided to ask him directly.

He crossed his arms. “Nope.”

“Good.” Goading and insulting seemed safe. Playful teasing, on the other hand, did not. I was glad this wasn’t teasing.

We put in our orders, and I was delighted to find out that we had to pay an extra two euros for reusable cups because, as the barista explained, the whole Killarney area had decided to ban the use of single-use cups.

Killarney, now that I had a bit of caffeine coursing through my veins, was truly lovely! Elegant Victorian stone buildings crowded the streets, offering their wares on colorful painted shop front. I was tempted by nearly every window we passed, specialty chocolates, outdoor outfitters, cool cafés, and cozy pubs, a shop specifically for rubber duckies, and in one window we passed, the most beautiful muffin I’d ever seen.

“Did you eat already?” I asked Tadhg.

“ ’Course I did. I’ve been awake for nearly four hours.”

“Further evidence that you are not human.”

Tadhg’s lips pulled a bit at the corners as he looked sidelong at me. It better have been a facial tic, because a grin would be dangerously uncharacteristic and a decided point for Team You’ve Fucked Everything Up.

“Okay, well, I think I might pass out if I don’t get that muffin immediately. Although it says it’s a cruffin. Is that one of these newfangled, high-tech chimera muffins?”

“Come on, then. Can’t have you passing out on the street and making a spectacle of yourself. Let’s go get you some calories.” That seemed fairly normal. He held the door open for me with one long arm braced between him and the door, and as I slid between them, he added in a low voice that sounded so close it made my skin tingle, “After all, you had quite the workout yesterday.”

Shit! I tripped on the doorjamb and did a little clumsy run, just as a strong hand caught my elbow. He rumbled a laugh, and heat crept up my neck.

Dammit! No way did he just say that. Impossible!