36
Itap my fingers on the wheel as the car idles in the alley across from Christchurch Cathedral where we are waiting for Ronan. Mom’s assistant organized a driver’s license and a rental for me, but so far, this SUV has been gathering dust in the parking lot under my building. It’s about time I took her out for a spin.
Ash is snoring softly from the back seat, barely visible under her comforter. So much for her being my wingwoman. Driving around Dublin city streets has me on edge because I’m not used to driving on the left-hand side of the road. It also feels weird to be behind the wheel in what is our passenger seat. I’m freaking out a little and hoping Ronan isn’t as hungover as his sister so he can help. Otherwise, I have no clue how we’re getting to County Wicklow in one piece.
The passenger door opens, and Ronan’s happy face greets mine. “What’s up, Grace,” he says, climbing into the seat and slamming the door.
“Ugh.” Ash groans from the back seat. “Stop the noise. My head,” she mumbles, yanking the comforter up over her face.
Ronan chuckles. “I knew she was overdoing it backstage last night.”
“She spent half the night worshiping the porcelain god,” I joke. He stares blankly at me, and I giggle. “Throwing up,” I explain.
“You Yanks say the weirdest things.” He darts in, kissing my cheek. “I cannot thank you enough for last night. I’m still buzzing.” He practically bounces in his seat, and I’m glad the risk I took paid off.
At my request, Dad had called Glen Hansard to arrange backstage passes after the event last night. Dad explained my situation, and Glen had no issue keeping my identity a secret. After he won his Oscar, he experienced the scary attention of the world’s media, so he understands my need to keep a low profile. He mostly chatted to the guys about music while we shared a few drinks. Ash slunk off to the bathroom with one of the crew, much to Jamie’s obvious disgust. I silently fist-pumped the air on her behalf. It’s good for him to get a taste of his own medicine.
“What’s the best route to take?” I ask, switching on the GPS.
“We’ll take the M50. It’s the quickest and easiest route out of the city. I figure you’d prefer to drive on the motorway.”
Ro babbles away as I slowly navigate my way out of the busy city center. “Glen already messaged Dil this morning to say he downloaded our EP and he’s impressed. He still has a few contacts in L.A., and he’s going to put us in touch with them.”
Taking my eyes off the road for a second, I flash him a smile. “That’s amazing. I hope he can help.”
“I still can’t believe you arranged that. Your dad must be well-connected to set it up.”
I fudged my way through an explanation last night. Honestly, I thought the guys might put it together, but I’m grateful they didn’t. They were all young—like me—when the film came out, and Glen’s movie success wasn’t driving their excitement. They are fans of The Frames, and they were focused on the music. “I’m glad it worked out.” I need to divert this line of inquiry before I get in hot water. “Are you sure Dillon is okay to drive his motorcycle?”
His brow puckers. “Why do you care when he was such a grumpy prick last night?”
“Your brother might irritate the fuck out of me, but that doesn’t mean I want to see him get into an accident.” Dillon gave me the silent treatment last night after our little argument at Croke Park, which suited me fine. I stayed with Ash, Cat, and Ro, while Jamie and Dillon kept to themselves. As much as his sullen moody behavior grated on my nerves, I still offered him a ride today. His mom was sweet to invite me to Sunday dinner, and it wouldn’t look very gracious to turn up with only two of her children.
I take the exit for the M50, relaxing when we finally hit the highway. According to the GPS, it’s pretty much straight all the way from here until we reach Kilcoole.
“Don’t worry about Dil,” Ro says, the smile dropping off his face. “He knows how to take care of himself.”
“He drank a lot last night, and he’d probably be over the limit if the police stopped him.” I’m glad I switched to water early in the night. My head and my stomach thank me for it. I knew I was driving today, and I didn’t want to turn up to Ash’s house looking like something from a zombie movie.
“You seem very concerned about him all of a sudden. Last night, you could barely look at each other.” I feel his eyes boring a hole in the side of my face. “Did something happen between you at Croke Park?”
“We had a difference of opinion, and some harsh words were spoken.” I shrug, tossing my hair over one shoulder. “It’s no biggie.”
“If you say so,” he sulkily replies, turning his head and staring out the window.
Switching the radio on, I keep the volume low so we don’t wake our Sleeping Beauty. We are both quiet as we drive. While I know Ronan is irritated, I’m not prepared to have a conversation about our feelings when we’re en route to his house. However, his reaction reminds me I need to have that talk with him soon.
Ash wakes when we take the exit for Kilcoole, yawning loudly as she stretches her arms out over her head.
“How do you feel?” I ask, looking at her through the mirror.
“A little more human.”
“You just need to get some of Ma’s famous roast beef in ya and you’ll feel better.” Ro pokes his head through the gap in the console to look at his sister.
“Gawd.” Ash rubs her tummy. “The thought of eating turns my stomach.”
“Jesus!” I exclaim, slamming on the brakes as a silver and black motorcycle overtakes me just as I’m due to take a left turn. The loud rumbling of the engine accelerates when the motorcycle picks up speed, tilting dangerously to one side as it cuts a sharp corner, racing ahead of us in a scary display of recklessness.