He rocks back on his heels. “Great.”

“When do you leave?” I ask, then hold my breath.

“It would be early in the morning, but I haven’t agreed to go yet,” he answers slowly. “I told them I’d call back after I thought about it.”

I try and look perplexed, even though my heart wants to jump out of my throat. “What is there to think about?”

“Is this really how you’re going to play it?”

Dammit. This is going to be even harder than I anticipated. Not only am I battling the selfish urge to throw myself into his arms and beg him to pick me, but Shane is far too astute. In a short space of time, he’s learned what makes me tick. He knows me. He’s disappointed in me already. It’s there in his eyes. He was hoping for more from me, a much-different response. Good. The sooner he realizes I’m not what he wants, the better.

When I don’t have an answer to his question, he takes my elbow. “Let’s go upstairs and talk in private. I’m not going to get a damn thing from you otherwise.”

No. I can’t be alone with him. I’ll crack. “I said, there is nothing to talk about. You’re being ridiculous. Let go of my arm.”

Shane’s jaw tightens as he considers me. He nods once, as if he’s come to a decision. Then I’m being thrown over his shoulder. For a second, all I can do is gape as the room turns upside down. Kitty doesn’t stop dancing, but waves at me as if her son carrying me from the room like a sack of flour is the most natural thing in the world. I marvel over that briefly. Are these people all fucking crazy? Oh, but then, I get pissed. He’s taking away my ability to avoid him, my feelings. That is unacceptable. I rely on avoidance. It’s all I have.

We’re halfway up the stairs before I find my voice. “When you put me down, I am going to claw your goddamn eyes out.”

“Good.” He pulls a key ring out of his pocket and unlocks my door, then kicks it open with his booted foot. “Anything will be an improvement from that bullshit you attempted to feed me downstairs.”

He hefts me off his shoulder and sets me on my feet with such little effort that my outrage boils over. I shove against his chest with both hands. Hard. He leans into it, not backing away, but coming toward me. That look I saw in his eye at the airport, the breathtaking anger I’d first noticed, is there. Only this time, it’s directed at me, and it’s tempered with hope. Determination. I can’t take it. It hurts. It feels like a fist to the gut.

“That’s right, girl. Fight me. Show me you give a damn.” He keeps walking, and I keep shoving, but he won’t give me an inch. Finally, my back hits the wall and with a sob, I make one final attempt to push him away. He stands firm, trapping me between the wall and his body. I can feel the tears burning in my eyes, but I pretend they don’t exist as I glare up at him.

“Why don’t you tell me what the hell you want from me?” I shout up at him.

“What I want?” He’s shouting back and I love that about him, even as I hate him for forcing my hand. I love that he’s not treating me like I’m fragile. But I am. Where he is concerned, I’m made of glass. He doesn’t know that, though. I have that going for me. “I want one word from you, one word that tells me I’m not crazy. That I’m not imagining what it feels like when we’re standing in the same room together. God, the thought of getting on a plane without you, babe… I can’t breathe for thinking about it.”

My whole body is shaking. No, he doesn’t know what he’s saying. Right now, he might mean it, but it’s only a matter of time before he realizes I’m unfixable. I’m damaged goods. This is what’s best for both of us, he just can’t see it yet. I know what I have to do, but my heart wants to explode just contemplating it. Starting in my neck, I numb myself. I let it coat my insides and harden like a plaster cast. I watch his expression change as he watches me, like he sees it happening. He knows he’s lost. I want to fall into a heap on the floor in that moment.

“I don’t know what you thought this was, Shane.” Somehow, I look him right in the eye. “I’m not going to lie, I wouldn’t have minded another week to have fun. But that’s all this ever was. Fun and temporary.”

“No. I don’t accept that.” His lips meet mine, driving them apart for his tongue. It’s an angry kiss, a wild one, but there’s so much more behind it, a tiny sound leaves my throat. My hands fly to his shoulders and cling before I fall at his feet. Finally, he pulls away, both of us breathing heavily. “Does that feel temporary to you?”

No. The exact opposite. It feels like forever. Digging deep, I find the nail in the coffin and pound it home. “It’s not enough for me. I don’t feel whatever it is you feel.”

He’s gone still. The fire he had behind his blue eyes when we walked into the room is gone. My numbness is starting to fade, and I’m seconds away from taking it all back. I’m incapable of seeing him look this helpless. Not Shane, the one who never gives me an inch, the one who carried me up the stairs over his shoulder mere minutes ago. Gathering my remaining resolve, I duck under his arm and walk toward the door. I need to get out of there. Need to get some air, or I’ll never leave. I’ll tell him anything he wants to hear and it will all be true.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble over my shoulder, wanting to sob when I see he still hasn’t moved. “I’m going to get some air. I’ll, um…see you later.”

That’s a lie. I’m not coming back until he’s gone.

…

I drift for hours around Dublin. In my haste to leave the Claymore, I’d left my messenger bag behind, along with my cell phone and wallet. Thankfully, I still had twenty-three Euro in my pocket leftover from that afternoon that lets me remain in an all-night coffeehouse for a bulk of the night, staring into nothingness. I wish like hell I had my camera, but it’s stowed firmly in my bag, like always. If I had it, maybe I could distract myself, get lost in the emotions of others instead of my own.

Around me, groups of students and people looking to sober up after a night of drinking, converse quietly. A few customers read quietly in the dark corners, absorbed by the words on the page. What has them out alone this time of night? Are they escaping from someone as well?

Several times, the memory of Shane’s broken expression comes back to me in such painful clarity, I’m forced into the bathroom where I cry silently in the stall, until someone comes in to use the toilet. They look at me curiously, but don’t say anything. I think it goes unspoken if you’re out alone at two in the morning, camped out in a bathroom stall, chances are you aren’t up for a chat. I lose track of the hours, until I wake to one of the baristas shaking my shoulder. When I leave the coffee shop, I have no other option but the closest park. Daylight is beginning to streak the sky, such a pretty blue that I resent it immediately. I want it to rain. I want it to flood the streets of Dublin and carry me away.