Breakaway by Deirdre Martin

anymore, Rory. My parents sold the house and they’re running a B and B now. But then you wouldn’t know that, would you?”
    “Actually, I do know about it. My gran told me. I’d just forgotten.”
    Erin softened for a minute. She loved Rory’s gran. She felt guilty because she hadn’t visited her since Rory dumped her. Talk about self-absorbed.
    “Where is it, then?”
    Erin hesitated, then told him, “Carmen Road.”
    “Two blocks from the High Street,” Rory murmured, more to himself than Erin. “Makes sense.”
    Erin smiled sweetly. “Do you still know your way round town? It’s been years since you’ve graced Ballycraig with your presence.”
    Rory glanced at her with surprise. “When did you get snarky?”
    “Probably around the same time you kicked my teeth in.”
    Rory was quiet. Erin couldn’t wait for the ride to be over. She was filled with an anxiety that wouldn’t ease. If it kept on this way, she would explode.
    She closed her eyes, the better to get hold of the roiling inside. It was the first time she caught a whiff of Rory’s footballers’ scent—sweaty, earthy—and it kicked something back to life inside her, a fast-moving array of images: watching Rory play football, she and Rory picnicking at the pond, she and Rory in a booth at the Oak, imagining their future while Erin got a little tipsy. Rory and—
    “What’re you smiling about?”
    Erin opened her eyes.
    “You were smiling,” Rory repeated.
    “So?”
    “You were thinking about me. Us.”
    “Oh, of course. I was thinking about you. Because that’s all that anyone in Ballycraig does: think about Rory Brady.”
    “You were thinking about me,” he said lightly, “but if you want to deny it, I understand.”
    “You know what? The only thing bigger than your bollocks is your ego.”
    Rory laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
    They pulled up in front of the B and B.
    “Go around the corner,” Erin demanded. “The last thing I need is my mother seeing this car and thinking some visiting dignitary has come to stay. Go round to Benton Avenue.”
    Rory did as she asked. She could picture her mother getting all wound up if she thought someone famous or rich might be coming to stay. Working herself into a frenzy. It wouldn’t be good.
    She turned to Rory as he pulled to the curb. “Thank you for the lift.”
    “We need to talk.”
    She knew this was coming. “Do we?”
    Rory switched off the ignition. “I have something I need to say.”
    “I bet I can recite it by heart,” Erin said bitterly. “‘I’m sorry I hurt you, Erin. I never meant to. If I could take it all back, I would. I was just out of my head, being in Manhattan and all. I made a mistake, love. A big, big mistake. Can you forgive me and take me back?’”
    “You’ve found me out.”
    Erin refused to look into his eyes. She knew Rory, and she knew he was sitting there looking smug as hell, thinking,
C’mon, you know you want to smile. You know you do.
    When she refused to react to his joke, he changed his approach. “Look, I know you wish I hadn’t come back for the summer. But since I have, it would mean a lot to me if you’d let me do one small thing for you to make your life easier.”
    “And what would that be?” Erin asked guardedly.
    “Let me drive you around.” Erin had barely opened her mouth to respond when he rushed in with, “Hear me out. I don’t know how you got up to the camp, but if it weren’t for me, you would have had to take a sick child home in a cab. The other day when I saw you, you were dragging those groceries home from the bus. I’ve got this car. Please let me put it to good use.”
    “And what? Let you chauffeur me around?”
    “Yes,” Rory said plainly. “If you need to go to Moneygall to get groceries for your mother, I’ll take you. I’ll take you anywhere you need to go, anytime you need to go.”
    Erin was dumbfounded. “You’ve gone soft in the head.”
    “I’ve not,” Rory insisted.