Unfixable

“Jesus, Faith,” Shane and I say at the same time.

Brian appears behind Faith, laying a calming hand on her arm. “You know, my ma can hear you, love.”

Faith flushes a little, but doesn’t lose her head of steam by any means. “You might as well get in your silly car and drive back to the inn. At the moment, I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll be in for my shift later, but I’m taking the bus.”

I raise an eyebrow at Shane. He smirks at me before addressing Brian, who for all intents and purposes is cowering behind Faith in the doorway. “Fine. But I’ll have a word with him before I leave.”

That gives everyone pause. Shane is planning on leaving Faith there? I try and get a read on him, but his face gives nothing away. Faith and Brian exchange a perplexed look.

“Whatever you have to say to my boyfriend, you can say in front of me.” Faith’s spine is so straight, I’m positive it will snap at any moment. Brian nods in agreement. Clearly Faith is wearing the pants in this relationship. “You’ll be gone soon, Shane. You won’t be around to chase me across Dublin every time I do something you don’t like. Say what you have to say. I’m old enough to make my own choices.”

His face shows no reaction to that, but his grip on my hand increases fractionally. He nods at Brian. “You’ve had two opportunities now to introduce yourself to me. Once at O’Kelly’s and the other night at the Claymore. If you’re going to date my sister, that’s the least you could do. Maybe even…come to the Claymore for dinner some night. Meet Kitty.” He clears his throat, rolls his shoulders. “It’s just how it should be done.”

Brian gulps audibly. “Right. I’d love to.” He shifts on his feet. “Sorry, man. I didn’t think you’d want me around her.”

“I’m not thrilled about it.” When Faith narrows her eyes at Shane, he holds up a hand. “But I’d feel that way about anyone. She’s my sister. She deserves to have this done properly. Come to the Claymore.”

Without another word, Shane grips my hand tighter and leads me back toward the car. I cast a quick look over my shoulder to see Faith gaping after her brother, mouth hanging open. Inside, I feel the same way. How did I not see that coming? Orla’s words from the other night come back in startling clarity. Irish men are a complicated sort. They’ll knock you on your arse when you’re not looking.

“Shane!” Faith is running after us on the path. “Wait.”

I let go of his hand and step back just in time for Faith to throw herself into his arms. Over her shoulder, Shane’s startled eyes meet mine. Slowly, his arms band around her, and he holds her close, as if he can’t quite believe what’s happening. What he made happen. Unable to watch it for another second, or I’ll burst into tears and ruin the moment, I pull open the passenger side door.

“Beyoncé, are you not staying for tea?” I turn at the sound of Patrick’s voice to find him standing in the doorway, wearing an apron and holding a kettle. “I cleaned the mugs with soap and everything.”

I send an inquiring glance at Shane, who is already shaking his head at me. “I’ve made more than enough concessions for one morning, girl. Get in the car.”

Smiling to myself, I wave apologetically at Patrick and climb inside.

…

When we reach the Claymore, we both seem to be in thoughtful moods. Shane appears a little thunderstruck over the scene with Faith, but every so often, I feel his gaze slide over me from across the car’s console, heating me a little more each time. There’s something different about the way he’s looking at me now, but I can’t figure out what. It’s still ripe with attraction, but there’s speculation now. If I wanted to drive myself crazy, I could analyze that look to death. I’m even feeling close enough to him to ask him straight up. But it’s getting late in the morning, and I know Shane has to set up the bar for lunch. We walk inside to find Orla cutting up lemons, the delicious smell of soup filling the space, courtesy of the new cook, Samuel.

Kitty looks up from wiping down the tables. “Did you find your sister, then? Was it the gypsies that took her?”

“No, Kitty.” Shane’s mouth quirks at one end. “She’ll be along now.”

“Grand.” She props her hands on her hips. “Do you smell that chowder? Samuel is an absolute phenom in the kitchen, he is. I say we’re well rid of Martin.”

Orla, Shane, and I try to keep our amusement hidden, but it explodes from all three of us at the same time, and we’re laughing so hard that Kitty has no choice but to join in. It feels like the tension of the morning is pouring out of me, out of Shane. Our eyes meet and there is something indescribable in his that cuts off my laughter abruptly. With a smile at Kitty and Orla, I head toward the staircase at the back of the pub.

I hear Shane behind me. I’m beginning to expect him to follow me, actually. Something about that certainty is comforting now, instead of exasperating. Knowing he’ll never let me leave a room without giving me something to think about until the next time we’re together. I start to climb the stairs, but change my mind, turning instead to meet him halfway at the center of the hall. As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, he catches me up against him. His mouth is on mine, lips teasing mine open with a low groan. Immediately, my head is spinning and I can’t remember why I’d been walking away in the first place. It’s startling how quickly he can blur every thought in my head, narrow it down to just him.

I want more. Want to drag him up to my room and let him take me under again, the way he had only hours ago. When he drops his hands to my bottom and slips them into my back pockets, I make a whimpering sound into his mouth. Shane’s tongue licks out along the seam of my lips, as if to savor the noise, but then he pulls back. I’m momentarily distracted by the layer of fog in his eyes, the new way he’s looking at me. Then I see my phone in his hand.

He presses a few buttons on the screen and pulls up my contacts. I watch as he deletes Patrick’s number from my phone, then hands it back to me.

“You delete the other one.”

I know what he’s talking about. Evan’s phone number. He’s asking me to delete it. It occurs to me then that we’re standing in the exact spot where I told him I still loved Evan. Where he first tried to kiss me. Was it even true then, all those weeks ago? Had I ever loved Evan? What I’m feeling now, what transformed inside me last night, compared to what I’d thought of as my first love…it’s like comparing a monsoon to a drizzling rain. One is something you can bear without an umbrella, a nonevent. The other can pick you up, shake you until you scream, and set you down somewhere else. Somewhere new that you don’t recognize.

Shane is a monsoon.

That’s the only description I can give it now. Weather patterns. I’m not willing to go any further than that. Barely one day into this “letting go” phase with Shane and I’m already losing sight of reality. I know one thing for certain, though. I haven’t thought of Evan in days. There hasn’t been a speck of room for him. I could no sooner go back to the relationship I had with Evan than I could forget about Shane, which I instinctively know I never will. Evan has been wiped away so quickly, I wonder if he was ever there at all. If it was just my guilt, the bitter taste of failing someone I cared about, that I’ve been feeling all along.