Page 71 of Finding Him
“Okay,” she whispers, surprising me. My heart feels like it just might beat right out of my chest.
And then I kissed her.
I keep my hands suspended in the air, deciding to work my way up to touching her and letting my lips do the heavy lifting. Her hands are flattened against my chest.
For the first second, she kisses me back and it’s beautiful.
Her hands press firmer against my chest, until it occurs to me—she’s pushing me away. I pull away, watching her touch her tongue to her lip and taking in her confused face.
“What? What’s wrong?” I ask.
“You... you taste like alcohol.”
29
I’ll Find You
Molly
October, 2007
“BLUE OR PINK?” Claire asks.
I’ve already let her paint my face with make-up and have her way with my hair. And I let her chalk up my quiet demeanor to me still being upset about what happened during the game—which, of course, I still was. And I blamed our loss on that fucking ref most of all. But I didn’t tell her it was alsopartbecause of the kiss with Niall in the locker room.
All that goes up is bound to come down.
He was drunk. Had he been drunk during the whole game? Was that why he got into a fight? Or had he drank because he was so upset over the fight? But where did he get the alcohol?
All the questions swirl around in my mind, and I have to bat them away like flies.
When I suggested to Claire we ditch Declan Keane’s halloween/nineteenth birthday party and just start our sleepover, she’d agreed without hesitation. I didn’t even need to tell her about myrelationswith her brother.
I wanted to tell her. I did. But I wasn’t sure how Claire would react—especially after she opened up to me at Niamh’s house. I couldn’t see her getting mad at me, but I could see her being quietly hurt by it and pushing it down. And as an expert at suppressing emotions, I know that it’s painful. The last thing I want to do is cause her pain.
“Blue,” I decide, petting the head of the little kitten in my lap. “I thought Shannon was JJ’s now by the way?”
“Good choice, I think blue is your color. Plus it’ll match your jersey,” Claire says, taking one of my hands and unscrewing the cap of the polish. “And she is, but JJ doesn’t like leaving her alone, because he doesn’t want her being lonely. So he always leaves her here, since even if we aren’t home, she could play with Comet or Atticus. He used to do the same thing with Nova.”
“Nova?”
“His dog,” Claire elaborates. “She came from the same litter as Comet, and the Marshall’s dog, Lady. There’s this guy who lives by my mother’s parents, and my Da was down there and heard he had this dog who’d had this massive litter. So he piled all of us into the car—Niall, JJ, Finn, Maxie and I—and took us out there. Each of us got to pick one per household.”
I glance over at Comet, who’s sprawled out on the big comfy chair in the corner of Claire’s room, watching us with his big sweet eyes. “What happened to Nova?”
“She died last year,” Claire says softly. “Golden retrievers are prone to the big C, I guess. We didn’t know. She got real bad before any of us even realized how sick she was. It gutted JJ. He loved her more than anything. He stayed over for weeks afterward because he couldn’t stand being in his own house without her.”
“That’s awful,” I whisper, feeling real pain. My only ever pet was this beagle named Jax, who’d gotten hit by a car when I was around nine. I’d sobbed for weeks, and it practically ruined mywhole summer. And the summers following that weren’t much better. Jamie leaving, then Mom, then... camp...
“He sounds like he was amazing,” I say softly. “Your dad. I mean, driving a carload of neighborhoods to pick out puppies? That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Claire giggles, her eyes still a bit misty. “Yeah. My Da was friends with everyone. He grew up with the Marshalls, and JJ’s Mam. Fitzy’s Da too, but he didn’t get a puppy ‘cause they lived in Dublin till like, ‘01. This is the kind of town people don’t really leave, unless you’re Patrick Fitzpatrick and go pro at something. And even he came back,” she takes a sharp breath, shaking her head. “Sorry. I’m waffling.”
“I don’t mind,” I smile. I would rather get caught up in conversation about the past and history of everyone on this estate than think about whatever was happening between Niall and I.
“You... you taste like alcohol...”
He looks away, his eyes floating around the room.
