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“Go where?”

“Mark, please…I know about the nude sex scene. Fallon told me—she thought I knew.”

“Oh…” His breath hitched as he looked away. “Yeah.”

“Yeah, it would’ve been nice to hear it from my boyfriend.”

“I’m sorry. It should’ve come from me—”

“You’re right. It should have.” She sighed. “But I understand why you kept quiet. You didn’t need an earache.” Alex swallowed, but she couldn’t budge the lump in her throat. “I’m angry with myself, and embarrassed. I hope I didn’t make you look bad in front of your friends. Fallon’s lovely, and I said some things…I wouldn’t blame her if she never spoke to me again, and it’s my fault for getting blotto with those berry drinks. I should know better. I do know better. I can’t drink as much as everyone else, and sex scenes are part of your job, end of.”

“You’re being way too hard on yourself.”

“I love you for saying that, but…” She shrugged. “I’ll apologize to Fallon when I see her—and Duff…and Wink, and the P.A. I have a long list.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I should be the one—”

Alex placed her fingers on his lips. “Shh.”

Mark kissed her fingers.

“Yeah, you might want to skip my lips until I brush my teeth. I don’t blame you.” She curled into him and scrunched up her nose. “Ew, you reek. Booze and…something else?”

“I may have had a sneaky cigarette or two last night.”

“Ugh.”

“I used to smoke, ages ago. That’s the problem with Dublin—it’s easy to fall into old habits here.” He smoothed her hair away from her eyes. “I wish we were done here. I wish we were back in London Fields.”

“Me too.” She kissed his neck and frowned. “You’re sticky.”

“Wink spilled a cocktail down me. Bastard.” Mark pulled away, flipping his legs out of the duvet. “Fuck, that was a bad idea. The room…” He paused, bracing himself on the bed. “I’m gonna shower. Maybe it will clear my head.”

“Need an extra hand in there?” Alex snickered, watching his underwear-covered butt move away from her.

“No, stay there. I’ll order breakfast when I’m done.” He removed his watch. “If you can stomach it?”

“I’ll try. Just some toast, maybe?” Alex pulled up into a sitting position then grabbed the duvet to steady the dizzy sway. “While you’re in there, I’ll change, pop downstairs, get my parcel.”

“Is that a good idea?” He scratched his chin.

“I’ll be lucky to make it to the lobby and back without killing myself.” She tugged the Vespa charm to the front of its chain. “Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s something for your birthday. I know how much you love surprises.”

• • •

Wearing yoga pants, unlaced Converse, Mark’s sweatshirt, and a green pallor that would make Kermit the Frog envious, Alex leaned on the hotel’s unmanned front desk and typed #MarkKeegan into Instagram. Lairds memes rolled under her finger, wishing a Happy Hogmanay and announcing New Year’s resolutions to find out what Mark was hiding underneath that kilt. Photos of Mark from Tom and Naomi’s wedding continued to pop up along with random fan selfies. A dimly lit, sneaky snap from the previous night of her kissing Mark cropped up in the middle of the Instagram feed—

Her phone lit up: a text from Lucy, sent to her phone and Mark’s.

Hey Marlex. Happy anniversary! Hope you’re having a shagging good time. We missed you two last night. Bespoke’s Prohibition theme was fun, but Freddie’s after-party was dreadful. Don’t tell Freds I said that. My head is throbbing, so I’m taking my hot water bottle back to bed! Love you lots. x

Alex smiled and shifted slowly around, careful not to jar her bruised brain.

A lone figure, chin buried in her scarf, walked across the lobby. An elegant, tight bun reminiscent of a ballerina kept her hair neatly in place—so pretty, but absolute torture with a hangover.

Alex blinked twice, unsure. “Fallon?”

“Oh…hi, Alex. Sorry, miles away.” Fallon’s skin was luminous, the inch-thick makeup worn at the pub scrubbed away without a trace. Her sparse eyelashes looked like they had never seen a mascara wand in their life. The stunning vixen from the Stag’s Head had left Dublin, replaced by a fresh-faced girl next door wearing a parka, yoga pants, and a fat wooly scarf. “How are you?”