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Afterwe’retreatedtoa savory lunch of stew and vegetables, courtesy of the bed-and-breakfast owner, I buy a plane ticket and fire off a message to Liam. Then Z and I catch a bus back to Dublin. His head rests on my shoulder as we snuggle down in the seat and watch the ancient stone buildings and random castles drift by.
Roaming Dublin’s streets, we actually get lost. My phone isn’t getting any service and Z doesn’t offer to pull up a map on his phone. I would complain, but what if his service got shut off or something? I don’t want to make him feel bad.
Anyway, it’s probably for the best that he’s cut off from everyone right now. The media’s gone too far with his story, addicted to the mysterious disappearance and downfall of Zander Graves, and I’m not sure how to put a stop to it short of causing some cataclysmic disaster.
Maybe Ishouldget arrested. Somehow, I still think the media will blame him for it.
I check my phone again, my text to Liam left unsent. “Ugh, it irks me when people’s cell phones stop working in horror movies. Like no way that’s realistic. But here we are. No service. Liam’s going to send a swat team after me.”
Rain smacks against my forehead, and I can’t help but crack a smile at Z, quiet and brooding at my side.
“Just great. Fucking weather,” he mumbles, shaking damp hair from his eyes. His little dangly earring swings, and my heart skips a beat. If only he understood just how much I love seeing a piece of me on him. “What?”
“We’re in Dublin. No show tonight. No flight until tomorrow.”
“We’re rained out of the touristy things I wanted to share with you before you fly out.”
I turn toward him. “Oh my god, are you pouting?”
“No.” His lip juts out. “Yes.”
I catch his jaw in my hand and lean in to bite his soft, full bottom lip. “I have you to myself. That’s all I ever need.”
Taking his hand, I tug him into the first hotel I can find–a quaint, four-story stone building.
“What are we doing?” Z demands, glancing around the Victorian interior, crackling with a warm fire. A handful of families enjoy tea at fine dining tables on one end of the main floor, and two heavy oak desks with waiting employees are positioned on either side of the massive fireplace.
“Living in the moment,” I whisper, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.
Swallowing, he fumbles after me into the small, creaking elevator once I purchase a room. When the doors part to our floor, I take his hand again and kiss the back of it.
“I know you’re secretly happy about this, so stop with the frown,” I say, shutting our bedroom door to trap us in the small, outdated room with plush carpet and a four poster bed.
His smile is solemn. “I’m just… going to miss this.”
My heart plummets. “Don’t you dare talk like this is goodbye.”
Z goes quiet, and I fight the urge to storm over to him and demand that he promise me this isn’t our end.
Instead, I swallow down those sickening emotions and connect to Wi-Fi so we can order food. We devour two pizzas and sprawl out on the bed, naturally falling into work on a few songs. Z’s fighting to find fault with his lyrics, sliding the pen over the cupid’s bow of his lips in the most distracting way.
I play with his hair while he reads his lyrics out loud.
You are a black hole
Within you, I can see my demise
And still, I’m enraptured
Drowning in those whiskey eyes
Unable to escape my fate
All I can do is cling to you and ready my heart
Because one day I know I’ll let you tear me apart
“That’s not about me, is it?” I ask, pinching at his side. “Cause the only thing I want to tear into is that ass.”
