Page 3 of It Had To Be You


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“This is fun. Are you having fun?” I asked Ev because she seemed to be enjoying herself but she tended to play her cards close to her chest. For all I knew she could be having an internal meltdown and I’d be none the wiser. She was visibly more sober than I was and I could tell she was making a concerted effort not to drink too much. Perhaps for fear of doing something she might regret.

I should take a leaf out of my niece’s book, because I was having dangerous ideas about Conor tonight and alcohol was the driving force behind them. It had to be.

“I’m having lots of fun,” she finally replied. “So is Conor,” she went on pointedly as she stepped into a stall and my heart skipped a beat.

“He’s really grown up,” I said as I stepped inside the stall next to hers. “Like, I barely recognised him.”

“Yep. And he’s still got eyes for you,” Ev stated and I shook my head while my stomach fluttered.

“Oh, hush. He does not. I’m old enough to be his mother,” I replied dismissively.

Ev barked a laugh. “If you got pregnant ateight. It’s not that big of an age gap, Yvonne. Besides, I’m fairly sure you’re not even old enough to be a cougar.”

“Yes, well, I still think you’re wrong,” I disagreed. “That boy is thirty years old, gorgeous, and probably earns six figures a year. Whereas I’m thirty-nine, earn a moderate wage, and well past my prime. I’m pretty sure he could do better.”

“First of all, Conor is about as much of a boy as you are a girl,” Ev countered. “And second of all, don’t you dare. You’re gorgeous and smart and kind. If he can do better, I’ll eat my hat.”

My heart warmed at her kind assessment. “You’re not wearing a hat.”

“You’re tipsy. Shut up,” Ev griped as we came out of our stalls at the same time and went to wash our hands. I glanced at my niece. She’d always been beautiful, even as a girl, but she’d grown into the most stunning young woman. It was no wonder Dylan could barely keep his eyes off her. But I knew she’d grown a hard shell over the years. Life had coarsened her. When her best friend, Sam, died unexpectedly in a vicious gang attack, a part of her had died along with him. I just hoped she found it in herself to open up again.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, catching me watching her.

I shook my head, sniffling as I looked away. “I was just thinking,” I whispered, heart clenching. “If Sam were here he’d have loved tonight.”

A flash of pain entered Ev’s gaze. “He did love a good night out.”

“I miss him,” I went on quietly.

Her gaze held mine. “Me, too.”

A silence fell before I drew a deep breath and tried to push away the melancholy. Tonight was supposed to be about letting our hair down and having some fun. I endeavoured to change the subject. “Anyway, please tell me you’ve noticed how Dylan’s been looking at you all night. The man is besotted.”

Ev frowned. “He said he wants to date me.”

I blinked, a smile spreading across my face. “Awww. That’s so sweet. What did you say?”

Her frown intensified as she stared at the floor. “I told him I’m not ready.”

I studied her a moment, then asked, “Can I be frank?”

“Only if I can be Susan,” Ev joked and I rolled my eyes, swiping her on the arm.

“Be serious, Ev. I think after all these years you two deserve a second chance. The only time I’ve ever witnessed real love was you two as teenagers. It was clear how much you meant to each other.”

I’d certainly never experienced that kind of intense love myself. Even so, I knew it when I saw it, and those feelings were still there between Dylan and Ev. Perhaps they were even stronger now that they were both grown, had both experienced the world. Ev didn’t say anything, but I reached out to squeeze her hand. Whatever happened with her and Dylan, I’d be there for support.

We returned to the main area of the pub and rejoined Dylan and Conor at our table. The place had gotten rowdier, and the traditional band over on the small stage were playing a fast, lively cover of “Some Say the Devil is Dead” by The Wolfe Tones. People were already up and dancing. I was busy watching them when heat met my back.

“We should join them,” Conor breathed, coming around to face me, his hand outstretched. There was something in his eyes, something inviting that I couldn’t resist. Which was why I placed my hand in his and allowed him to lead me over to the dance floor. My heart beat loudly in my ears as we joined the other patrons. Conor did a silly little jig and I chuckled, that giddy drunkenness taking hold even though I’d only had two pints. I’d always been a lightweight. One or two drinks and my inhibitions melted away.

A minute later Dylan and Ev joined us. I wasn’t particularly aware of them because I was too busy laughing at Conor being silly and doing some ridiculous version of Irish dancing. I liked that he didn’t take himself too seriously. He’d been that way as a teenager, too, always making jokes at his own expense.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he shouted over the deafening music and my cheeks instantly flushed.

“Thanks, so do you,” I replied, then grimaced. Had I really just told Conor he looked beautiful? I mean, he did, but I definitely hadn’t meant to phrase it that way.

Conor chuckled and I grew flustered. Leaning forward, I struggled to be heard over the music, “I just meant, you look great. I hardly recognised you. Not that you didn’t look great before. You were always super cute but I just mean that you’ve grown into your…”

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