Page 63 of An Irish Hope

The barmaid pointed with her chin at where Andy sat.

Okay, fine. It would be rude to ignore her. She peeked over her shoulder. Sure enough he was alone again.

“Looks like the coast is clear now your ex’s ex has gone.”

She shook her head. “He’s welcome to her,” she said. “I’m here to meet someone else, remember?”

“That’s right. Your mystery man. Drew, wasn’t it?”

She nodded. Mystery seemed to be the word. Was he even going to come?

Her heart panged, as rejection whispered near again. What if he didn’t come? What if he’d heard something about her and decided she was too much hard work? What if—

“You’re being stupid,” she mumbled into her glass.

“Did you say something, love?”

Aisling shook her head.

But the longer she sat here, knowing Andy was sitting not ten metres away, the more she started wondering if maybe this was another of those God-given opportunities. Not to get together again of course—that would be dumb. But maybe as a way to heal the past so she could truly move on.

Which meant she could either sit here and secretly seethe, or run away. Or she could put on her big girl pants and go talk to the man like the mature adult she was trying to be.

She sighed. She was pretty sure she knew which of those three God wanted her to do. Fine, then, God. So she picked up her glass and rose from her seat, and turned.

Only to encounter a body which ended up with apple cider all over his shirt.

“Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry.”

Andy coughed, the yellowish cider stain spreading across his front.

She placed a hand on his chest, noting how he stiffened.

“What are you doing?” he growled.

She instantly flung her hand away. “Clearly I’m making an awkward situation even worse.”

His lips twisted wryly, leading to a corresponding wrench in her stomach.

He must hate her. She should go. So much for being brave. “I’m truly sorry.”

He cleared his throat. “No, that’s my line.”

Her gaze swerved up to meet his.

“Ash, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” she whispered. She drew away. She would not let his physical nearness fool her into thinking he cared. Ever since that kiss he’d made it obvious he did not. And mature her would not be so foolish to fall for the charm of his scent and smile again.

“I’m sorry for not saying goodbye before.”

She turned away. Met the barmaid’s sympathetic look, that only loaded fresh emotion in her eyes. She blinked hard.

The barmaid drew closer. “Need anything, love?”

She shook her head, the lump in her throat making it hard to speak. Oh, she really needed her blind date to show. To show Andy that she wasn’t sitting here, pining for him. To show him that she was still desirable by some, even if they’d needed to be coerced into going out with her.

“Actually…” She hailed the barmaid again. “Could you maybe see if he’s here somewhere?”