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Shit, did I really want to be friends with Donal Larkin again?
Yes.
Even with our poor track record, I wanted that. Maybe it could be different this time. We were both mature adults now. Surely we could handle it. We wouldn’t make the same mistakes.
“I’d like that too.” I sounded out of breath, like I’d just done a hill ride on the stationary bike.
“Good.” Donal’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Can we go sit down and eat now? Because I was too nervous to eat much at lunch, and I’m seriously hangry.”
CHAPTERTEN
TESS
We both sat down again, and I picked at my pizza while Donal inhaled his three slices like a vacuum cleaner. I couldn’t help wondering what he’d confided to Erin that he didn’t want to tell me. Something about his children, perhaps, or maybe his divorce.
“Can I ask you something?”
Donal froze mid-bite, his eyes growing wary as they flicked in my direction. I wasn’t the only one of us with trust issues to overcome.
I held up my hand in a peaceful gesture. “I’m not trying to be combative, I promise.”
His guarded posture relaxed a fraction as he lowered his plate. “What?”
“Why did you invite me here if you didn’t want to talk about your lunch with Erin?”
“Because I wanted to see you.” Before his gaze dropped to his lap, I caught a glimpse of embarrassment in it. “I didn’t want to be alone tonight, and you’re the only person who knows what I’m feeling.”
Well fuck. I was the asshole, wasn’t I? If this was one of those Reddit posts, I’d be the one roasted in the comments.
Donal had been looking for support, and I’d let my insecurities get the better of me and picked a fight with him. I’d been fooled by his apparent good mood, but I should have guessed he’d be feeling raw tonight. I’d been an absolute wreck last weekend after my own meeting with Erin. And Donal had shown up at my apartment to offer a shoulder to cry on. I’d assumed he’d come over to interrogate me and satisfy his curiosity, and maybe that was part of it, but it wasn’t the only reason. His concern then had been as genuine as his need for company was now.
This was what he’d meant by being a team. It was my turn to reciprocate and fulfill my duty as a teammate.
Or friend, apparently.
“If you need to cry it out, feel free to let ’er rip. I can take it.” I was half joking, half serious. Donal didn’t appear to be on the precipice of tears, but if he was, I stood ready and willing to lend a sympathetic shoulder.
The lines around his eyes crinkled in amusement. “I think I’m good, but thanks.”
I patted the couch next to me. “Come on now. Turnabout is fair play. I’ll let you snivel into my neck and everything. We could put on a sad movie if it would help get you started. Or maybe play some Adele? I understand that works for a lot of people.”
He laughed and reached for his beer. “If you really want me to cry, you’d be better off playing the clarinet for me.”
“Ouch.” I stifled a smile as I feigned a wounded look.
“Come on, you know they’re the most useless instrument in the marching band. Nothing but fillers.” His eyes were warm and teasing, and my smile broke free at the old, familiar argument.
“You only think that because you and your stupid trumpet section had the dynamic range of an air raid siren.”
He cracked a grin. “Now I am going to cry.”
A warm feeling settled in my chest as we smiled at one another. I’d forgotten how much I used to enjoy our bantering and teasing.
As Donal’s gaze lingered on me, I was reminded of something else—how much I’d liked the feel of his eyes on me before they’d turned cold and unfriendly. He used to have this way of looking at me that tricked me into thinking I was something special and amazing.
Donal was looking at me that way right now, and I felt my face heat. I took another long drink of beer, silently cursing the Irish complexion that transformed me into a human tomato at the slightest provocation.
“How much alcohol is in this?” I asked, hoping I could blame my lightheadedness on the beer.
