Page 80 of Niall

The way Anna was beckoning to me with her beautiful eyes and her hand outstretched, I decided he was right. I downed the last of my whiskey.

“Let’s go.”

I woke the next morning facedown on my bed. I was stretched across the mattress, clad only in my boxers. There was a god-awful racket coming from somewhere in the room, and when I pulled myself up, I discovered Finn passed out on the floor, a blanket over him, snoring like he was a seventy-year-old man with a smoking addiction.

I sat up carefully, not wanting to make the jackhammers in my head any louder.

Where the feck was Anna, and why was Finn on the floor?

I stood on my shaky legs and kicked his foot. He made a strange sound and rolled over, the snoring immediately starting again.

I pulled on some sweats and went to the bathroom, emptying my bursting bladder, brushing my teeth, splashing cold water on my face to try to wake up. I took some pain meds and looked at myself in the mirror.

I hadn’t looked this hungover in decades.

I made my way downstairs, wondering if I had been in a car accident. My legs ached as hard as my head. I found Anna, Una, and Sully with Mum in the bright kitchen, a pot of tea on the table, the scent of fresh bread in the air.

“Morning,” I rasped out.

All four looked at me, then started to laugh. Anna came over, placing her hand on my chest. “Niall, it’s one o’clock. In the afternoon,” she added in case I didn’t understand.

“Holy feck,” I muttered.

“Is Finn alive?” Una asked with a grin.

“Since he’s doing an imitation of a piece of heavy machinery, I assume so,” I said, sitting down. “What the feck happened last night?”

Mum slid a cup of tea in front of me. I wanted coffee, but considering everything, I decided not to ask. At least the tea was hot and strong. She shook her head. “You and Finn got into a drinking game. You drank shots of whiskey and challenged each other to, ah, an Irish dance-off.” She bit her lip. “It was one for the record books, my boy.”

“I haven’t Irish danced since I was a kid and you made me take lessons,” I protested, horrified.

“Apparently you remembered some of them. As did Finn.”

“The rest,” Sully finished with a smirk, “you made up with great gusto. I had no idea you could do the splits, Niall.”

I leaned my head on the table. “Feck. Neither did I.” No wonder my legs ached. Then I lifted my head. “Who won?”

“It was a draw. When the table you insisted on using collapsed under the weight of the two of you stomping on it like you were cast members of Riverdance, we called it,” Anna said, her eyes twinkling.

“I’m sure we were excellent,” I protested.

Mum snorted. “More arm-flinging and kicking like donkeys than dancing, really.”

I sputtered into my tea, choosing to ignore her even as they all laughed.

“And why is Finn on the floor?”

“Anna managed to get you to bed, and Finn came in to tell you something. He just sort of dumped himself there, and we decided to leave him when he started snoring,” Una informed me. “What a racket. I had no idea.”

“Too late,” Finn’s rough voice spoke from the door. “You married me. You’re stuck with me.”

He looked as awful as I felt. He sat next to Una, placing his head on her shoulder. “Oh, you reek,” she laughed. “Whiskey, cigars, and regret.”

“Help me,” he pleaded.

Mum stood. “Right. A good breakfast will sort you out. We have a lot to do today. You leave tomorrow, and I’ll not have you off with a hangover.”

I met Finn’s bloodshot eyes. He narrowed his and mouthed the words “I won.”