Page 56
She picked up her phone to text Liz, but it was the middle of the night in New York and Cordelia wasn’t altogether sure she was ready to hear what Liz might have to say. Her mother had sent an endless stream of texts in various forms of Who is Niall? and Cordelia was ignoring them all.
Liz would be encouraging for certain—she’d probably dance a jig and set off some fireworks. Cordelia James crushing on a guy at last. But then Liz would probably tell her she needed to “make a move” or “go for it,” and Cordelia didn’t think she was ready for that. Besides, what if Niall didn’t want her to make a move? He probably didn’t. He definitely didn’t.
Cordelia threw off her blankets and padded into the kitchen to make coffee. She banged open drawers and slammed a mug on the counter with unnecessary force. She didn’t want to be crushing on someone! Especially not a guy who was still grieving another relationship.
Just friends, just friends, just friends …
But she didn’t want to be just friends.
“Ugh!” she cried, running her fingers through her hair. Wanting someone like this was awful. Why did people do it? She felt on edge and buzzy, like there was a swarm of bees in her chest. She waited for the kettle to boil and her thoughts drifted back to that one long moment in the kitchen when she thought she was going to explode into flames if she stood there a minute more without touching him.
She poured the water over the grounds and opened her computer. It was time to post some photos—Colin and Alison and Róisín had all given their permission for her to use their images last night. But Cordelia hadn’t asked Niall if she could use his yet.
Should she text him? No, it was probably too early. But they’d been texting for a week now. Surely it wouldn’t be weird to reach out. She picked up her phone, then put it down.
There was a knock on the door and Cordelia jumped up off her stool. Was that Niall? Would he be standing on the other side, with his beautiful blue eyes and thick black hair and broad shoulders, waiting to say Hello let’s make out?
Shit, she was still wearing her sweatpants and Mets tee. The knocking came again and she hurried to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it.
Alison stood on the doorstep. “Morning,” she said cheerfully.
Cordelia’s chest deflated. “Oh. Hi.”
Alison laughed. “Expecting someone else?”
“No! No. Sorry. Come on in. Want some coffee?”
“That’d be grand.” Alison stepped inside and took her jacket off. “Gran’s on her way down now. Told her I’d drive up and get her but you know her and the damn car.”
Cordelia poured Alison a cup. “Yeah, she’s really stubborn about that.”
“I pick my battles now,” Alison said. “It’s no trouble for her to walk down to the cottage. Anyway, you should get ready.”
Cordelia stared at her in confusion.
“To meet Cian Byrne,” Alison said. “To go over taking the photographs for Pátrún. It’s this weekend, remember? Hence the delicious dinner at the O’Connors’ house last night?”
Cordelia slapped her hand to her forehead. “That’s right. Give me two minutes.”
“Take your time,” Alison called as Cordelia hurried into her bedroom. “Gran loves pissing off Cian Byrne.”
“Why is Róisín coming again?” Cordelia asked.
“To piss off Cian Byrne!”
Cordelia laughed. When she was dressed, she got back to the kitchen and found Alison looking at a picture of Niall on her laptop.
“Christ,” she said. “You really captured him.”
“Oh.” Cordelia folded her arms over her chest to stop them shaking. “Um. Yeah. Thanks. He’s … yeah.”
Alison raised an eyebrow. “Look at your face, my god. Cordie, I won’t pry if you don’t wish to speak about it.”
“No, I … there’s nothing to speak about. I mean, nothing’s happened.”
“But you want something to happen,” Alison said knowingly.
“Well …” Cordelia gave up. She needed help. She was floundering on her own. “Yeah. I guess. But obviously he’s super torn up about his ex.”
