“They should have let her rot in jail,” Ash says, bumping my hip. “Drink up, it’s almost closing time.”
“What happened?” I lift my vodka cranberry to my lips.
“The owner’s wife murdered him here back in ninety-six, but she didn’t get away with it. She was sent down for life,” Dillon explains.
“It put Jack White’s Inn on the map. It’s infamous,” Ro says, waving his hand around the crowded pub. “Even now.”
“Welp, that was a lovely way to end the night.” Another shiver rocks through me.
Dillon smirks. “Just keeping it real, Hollywood.”
“And who says the night is ending?” Jamie drains the last of his beer, slamming his hands down on the wooden table, rattling glasses and spilling drinks.
“Arsehole,” Ash mutters, rolling her eyes. Our gazes connect, and we smile. She says that, but I know the truth. She is head-over-heels, ass-over-tits, in love with him, and he is the same with her. I know she harbors guilt over what went down with Cillian, but they would not be here, looking all loved up if she’d told him what happened. It’s best left in the past. No good would come from spilling that truth. Jamie grabs her face, smushing his lips to hers, and Dillon’s mouth pulls into a grimace.
To be fair, he hasn’t given them shit, but he watches like a hawk, and I feel a little bad for Jamie sometimes. If he even raises his voice to her, Dillon gets ready to knock him flat on his ass. It must feel like walking on eggshells sometimes. I know Dillon’s protectiveness comes from a place of love, but he’s got to accept he won’t always be there to shelter his sister. Plus, she’s a grown-ass woman capable of making her own decisions, and he needs to let her live her life and deal with the consequences of her actions.
The transformation in Jamie is astounding. Though I suppose it was the same with Dillon. Neither of them even glances at the groupies. They only have eyes for us.
Until you leave. My snarky inner devil whispers nastily in my ear.
“Come on, dickheads.” Jamie slams his hands on the table again, knocking Conor’s bottle of beer to the floor. He must have a death wish.
“You’re such a jerk, Jay,” Cat says, but there’s no heat in her tone. Her boyfriend whispers in her ear, and Ash sends me a knowing look. She isn’t Stephen’s biggest fan because rumors of his infidelity have been circulating since just before our exams, and she doesn’t trust he’s being faithful to her friend. Ash and Cat had a big falling out when Ash told her what the gossipmongers were saying, and they’ve only just started talking again. I haven’t heard from Cat in weeks. I guess she assumed I would take Ash’s side, but I don’t really care. She earned a place on the bottom of my shit list with the way she reacted to news of Reeve being my ex.
“I’ll pay you back from my stash,” Jamie tells Conor.
Conor just shrugs, in that affable laid-back manner of his. I swear, in the entire seven months I’ve been in Ireland, I have only heard that guy say a handful of sentences. The shy blonde tucked under his arm doesn’t seem to care. I have no clue how they know each other, whether they are dating, or if he just brought her along to Brittas Bay this weekend.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Jamie says, standing. “Time to head back to the house and finish the party there.”