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Shit.
Did I just describe myself as ‘plump prey?’
And like that, my house of cards came tumbling down because what the hell would this man want with me?
I was seeing things.
God, I was so stupid sometimes.
I cleared my throat for, like, the fourth damn time, and asked, “I’m Ms. Keegan. You are?”
His smile, when it appeared, was as charming as the rest of him. His teeth were white, but not creepy, reality-TV-star white. They were straight except for one of his canines, which tilted in slightly. In his perfect face, it was one flaw that I almost clung to. Because with that wide brow, the hair so dark it looked like black silk that was cut closely to his head with a faint peak at his forehead, the strong nose, and even stronger jaw, I needed something imperfect to focus on.
Then, I sucked down a breath and remembered what Fiona had told me once upon a time. When I’d been nervous about asking Jamie Winters to homecoming, she’d advised me in her soft Irish lilt, “Lass, that boy takes a dump just like you do. He uses the bathroom twice a day and undoubtedly leaves a puddle on the floor for his ma to clean up. I bet he’s puked a time or two as well. Had diarrhea and the good Lord only knows what else. Just you think that the next time you see that boy and want to ask him out.”
Yeah. It was gross, but fuck, it had worked. Her advice had worked so well I hadn’t asked anyone out because I could only think of them using the damn toilet!
Still, looking at this Adonis, there was no imaginingthat.
Surely, gods didn’t use the bathroom.
Did they?
“The name’s Finn. Finn O’Grady.”
My eyes flared at the name.
No.
It couldn’t be.
Finn O’Grady?
No. It wasn’t a rare name, but it was a strong one. One that suited him, one that had always suited him.
I frowned up at him wondering, yet again, if this was a joke of some sort, but as he looked at me,reallylooked at me, I saw no recognition. Saw nothing on his features that revealed any ounce of awareness that I’d known him for years.
Well, okay, notknown. But I’d known his mother. Our mothers had been best friends. And as I looked, I saw the same almond-shaped eyes Fiona had, the stubborn jaw, and that unmistakable butt-indent on his chin.
At the reminder of just how forgettable I was, my heart sank, and hurt whistled through me.
Then, I realized I wasstillholding his hand, and as he squeezed, the flush returned and I almost died of mortification.
