a total arsehole to me. To us, actually.’
Her face scrunches up. ‘Huh?’
I know it’s stupid and irrational, but I don’t want to tell her what he said about Dad. I don’t know why I have this tendency to want to protect him. Maybe it’s because I have a feeling he has some sort of story. Some reason why he manages to be such a douche-bag. Not that he’ll ever open up and tell me. Maybe I’m just coming up with excuses for him. Hoping there’s more to him, when actually there isn’t.
‘Nothing. I just need you to take over for a while. I think I need a nap. I’m cranky.’
She sighs, pausing the Netflix show she’s binging. ‘Okay, I think you might be right. You go up and I’ll wake you if we get busy.’
‘I won’t hold my breath.’
Ella wakes me up a few hours later and tells me that it’s snowed. I walk down expecting just a light dusting but when I look out the front window there must be at least six inches of snow. Wow, Ireland doesn’t do weather in halves.
‘Yeah.’ Ella laughs at my reaction. ‘Apparently all weather conditions here are severe.’
‘You can say that again.’
I look around. The pub is empty and I can’t find Clooney. Not that I want to see the idiot. Unless it’s to hit him in the face maybe.
‘He’s waiting for you out the front.’
I stare back at her, my eyebrows knitted together. Why would he be waiting for me outside? And he expects me to go to him? That’s Clooney all over.
‘I’m off to bed,’ she announces. ‘You guys can lock up early.’ She turns and scutters away before I can argue with her.
‘But Ella—’ She’s already gone.
Great, now I have to face the awkward music with Clooney. Might as well get it over and done with. I just need to remember to keep an emotional distance from him.
Easy.
I take a deep breath, blowing it out slowly, visualising all of the stress leaving my body. It does little to help, but I can’t hide away forever. I remember my mum used to cleanse my aura of stress. It never helped but it was still sweet that she cared enough to try.
I grab my coat on the way. When I open the door it’s still snowing thick, heavy snowflakes and the icy chill tingles across the skin on my face. I can’t see Clooney anywhere.
‘Clooney?’ I ask into the darkness, the moon light casting a slight glow onto the snow.
It’s then that I see it. Someone has carved out I’m sorry in the snow and built three snow men. Two have mine and Ella’s hats. His one has a carrot as a dick, as well as the nose. I can’t believe he did this. I mean, I can believe the dick carrot, but not that he’s apologised.
‘I am,’ Clooney says, appearing from behind me. He speaks to the ground, unable to meet my wide gaze. He looks up for a split second, pain behind his green eyes lit up in the moonlight. ‘Sorry, I mean.’
‘You did this?’ I’m so shocked that he’s even bothered to apologise, let alone in such a grand gesture of a way. Part of me wonders if Ella was involved. She loves those romantic comedy movies.
‘I shouldn’t have said what I did. I was a dick, and I’m sorry.’
I swallow down the lump in my throat. ‘It’s fine. I shouldn’t keep pushing you for information about your life. It’s none of my business.’
He takes a step forward, his hands in his pockets. His eyes lock with mine. They’re glinting in the moonlight but I see something beneath them. They’re deeper and darker than I’ve ever seen before.
‘That’s where you’re wrong. I want to be your business.’
He does?
‘Why?’ The desperation in my voice is almost palpable. I look up at him, struggling to keep my emotions under wraps. Why must this beautiful man insist on playing with me?
He shrugs, biting his lip. ‘It’s just nice for someone to care enough, I guess.’
I smile back at him, but it’s small and sad. It breaks my heart to think of no one else caring for him, loving him, putting him first. I think that’s where a lot of his mood swings come from. I wonder if he’ll ever confide in me. Tell me about his life before I met him, or if he’ll always be holding back.
‘I’m thinking we should lock up early tonight,’ he says with a small hopeful