Chasing River (Burying Water #3)(40)

“Philosophy major. He planned on doing his PhD and becoming a college professor.” We were together for almost three years, until I realized that I liked the idea of him—the comfortable hum of routine he brought to my life in Portland, while I was in school—but I didn’t love him. I made a clean break when I moved back to Sisters.

I don’t know if Ivy can somehow read my silent acknowledgment in her eyes, but she’s smirking like the Cheshire Cat. “Oh, and then there was a doctor, wasn’t there? Alex told me about him. I’m guessing him and this guy, here, don’t have a lot in common?” She must see the discomfort in my face because the smirk slips off and she offers a muttered, “Sorry.”

My eyes roam the bar. I’ll admit the pang in my chest now is nothing like it was before I met River. One date with this bartender and I may never think of “the surgeon” again. That tells me that maybe my pain over Aaron has less to do with missing him and more to do with missing the idea of him, the humiliation of being dumped because, let’s face it, if he really cared about me, my age wouldn’t matter.

When I was with him, I felt like I wasn’t far from a trip toward the altar with a well-respected, handsome doctor. I could see the pride in my parents’ smiles, the envy in my friends’ eyes. Which means I’ve now three times fallen for the concept of a relationship—and what that relationship looks like to the outside world—rather than the actual guy I’m with.

“So . . . Where’d you meet this guy?”

“At the park one day. He kind of . . . ran into me.” I toy with a coaster to avoid her gaze.

“Sounds romantic.”

“It was, in a way.” If pipe bombs could be called romantic. He did save my life, though, and that’s romantic, on steroids. And he brought my wallet back to me, cash and all, which tells me that he’s honest, a quality I admire. “Whatever. I’m only here for another week anyway, so . . .” Next Sunday will come too soon.

“So don’t waste time being so . . . you.” She sticks her finger into her glass and spins it around. “What’s his name again? River?” Before I can ask why, she’s yelling it across the bar.

Green eyes flash our way and I hold my breath.

She holds up two fingers. “Two more, please!”

I exhale with relief as I watch him grab the freshly cracked bottle of Jameson from behind him and pour.

“Oh, and Amber’s only here for another week, if you want a chance with her. She’s a bit uptight, so you’ll have to make the first move.” Ivy points at me, in case any people in the immediate vicinity couldn’t figure out that I’m Amber on their own.

The drunken patrons around us start spouting all kinds of encouragement. A dimpled grin fills River’s face as he waves their words off with a dismissive hand.

“Why would you do that to me?” I push through barely moving lips, trying to keep my face expressionless as my cheeks burn.

The blond waitress with the gap in her teeth and giant boobs swoops by then, leaving two shots and a wink at our table.

“That’s for being a snob in high school.” As Ivy picks her drink up, her chest lifts and she sighs, as if in some monumental gesture. “Now . . . to new beginnings.”

“You’re such a bitch,” I mumble. Lifting my shot, I clink her glass just hard enough to splash a little of it on her fingers. “To new beginnings.” I inhale a nervous, shaky breath as I finally dare glance over at River. To see that his eyes are locked on me. A thrill courses through my spine. “And to an interesting week in Ireland.”

THIRTEEN

River

“Just gave her back her wallet, did ya?”

Rowen elbows me in the ribs but I ignore him, pouring pints and watching Amber giggle at something her friend said. And pretend she doesn’t know I’m watching her. After five whiskeys, she’s doing such a piss-poor job of it, I want to walk over there and tease her.

And kiss her.

Whatever good intentions I may have had have poured down the drain along with the tap runoff.

“So? Is that why you’ve been wearing that dopey look all night?” Rowen pushes.

“What are ya going on about, now?” I give the bar area a quick scan. Everyone’s got their hands wrapped around a pint and the printer is staying quiet for the moment. Finally. I’ve been waiting for this break.

He leans in to ask, “What’s her friend like?”

“Borderline hostile.”

“Really . . .” Rowen’s face lights up and I roll my eyes.

Pouring myself a Guinness, and a couple of tall glasses of ice water, I announce, “Taking five,” and round the bar with my hands and my smile full. Amber jumps when I set the drinks down on the table.

“Drink these so your heads don’t split tomorrow.” Now that the first round of drunken fools have called it a night and staggered out of here, there are a few vacant stools around. I grab one nearby and drag it over. “Are you ladies enjoying yourselves tonight?”

They share a secret look that I don’t understand. Then again, most women baffle me.

“I am,” Amber says. “How about you, Ivy?”

“I’m having a great time, actually,” her friend admits with a furrowed brow, as if she’s surprised by that.