Soaring (Magdalene #2)(67)

I closed my eyes and started winding it down.

“I’m shutting up now. And I’m hoping to all that is holy that you’re not communicating with me because you’re angry with me and not because something has happened with you and nobody’s told me.”

I turned and looked out at the sea.

“Call me,” I finished. “Please, Robin, call me. And if you’re angry with me, then at least text me to tell me you’re okay.”

With that, I ended the call.

I stopped pacing and looked out the windows.

Suffice it to say, while Bradley was wasting no time (and scaring me a little) driving like a madman to get me home and dump me at my house, he didn’t mind at all that I was ending things.

He also didn’t walk me to the door or even wait to reverse out of my drive and take off before I got to it.

This was beyond awkward and it made me feel like a bitchy slut, or a slutty bitch (no, actually, both).

So after I let myself inside and turned on a lamp by the TV, walked to the kitchen and flipped on the pendants over the bar, I put my clutch on the counter and dug out my phone.

Then I texted him, There’s no excuse for what happened tonight so I won’t try to make one. I’ll only say I’m very sorry. I enjoyed our time together and I’m sad that it ended this way.

I said no more, not telling him he’s a good man and he’ll find someone, which would probably not be something he wanted to read from me. Nor did I tell him I wasn’t leading him on or playing games and that things with Mickey and I were complicated, which was true but would sound banal to him and also something he wouldn’t want to read. Nor did I tell him I hoped he didn’t think badly about me because that was selfish and likely an impossible feat.

I kept it short and offered my apologies. It was the only thing I could do.

I fretted for a while about my behavior but the fretting drifted away and the pacing started when it sunk in completely that Mickey Donovan had kissed me.

Kissed me.

I didn’t know how that could happen. I’d kissed him and he’d pulled away, told me I was…“attractive,” gave no indication he was interested in me, and in fact gave lots of indication he didn’t much like me.

When the fretting about that started to overwhelm me, I’d called Robin.

With that call done, now I had hours before Mickey would show at my door, possibly to kiss me again (which caused such extreme excitement I felt the urge to go straight to the toy in my nightstand drawer and make use of it). He also possibly would ask me out, which was frankly unfathomable (or had been, until he kissed me).

Or he possibly would come over in order to tell me what happened at the restaurant was a huge mistake and he thought it best we never see each other again.

Which would mean I’d lose Mickey even though I didn’t have Mickey and when I did, we were fighting.

Even so, the very idea of that loss was too much to even contemplate.

It would also mean I’d lose Aisling and Cillian.

Something else I couldn’t contemplate.

When these thoughts were about to send me over the edge, I decided to call my brother, who would listen then give it to me straight. And since he was a man, he might know what was in Mickey’s head.

On this decision, my phone in my hand let out a chime.

I looked down at it then quickly slid my finger on the screen to get to the text.

It was from Robin and it read, “I’m fine. I’m also pissed at you. Give me three days to hold a grudge then I’ll call you. But I reserve the right for the grudge to last less time.

That was it but it gave me relief, made me smile and was a little surprising since a three day grudge for Robin was unheard of—case in point, the grudge she had against her ex lasting five years without cooling.

Before I could send a reply, I got another text from her.

And this guy better be hot. Hot enough to make Conrad lose his mind and consider suicide. Anything less, MeeMee, and I’ll be very disappointed in you.

That made me smile bigger because it was funny and because she would very much approve of Mickey. She might live for revenge against her cheating ex-husband, but that didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate masculine eye candy.

I texted back, Okay, sweets, and this is the last you’ll hear from me until your grudge is over. But just to put your mind at ease, Mickey is definitely hot.

After sending that, I called my brother.

“Hey, MeeMee,” he greeted.

“Hey, Lawrie. You free?”

“I’m at work but for you I’m always free.”

I was not surprised he was at work, seeing as it was earlier there, not to mention the fact that, since both his boys were old enough to drive and go off and do their own things, my brother stopped working constantly and started working constantly in order to escape his wife.

I was also not surprised he would make himself free for me. In my life, after I’d found that Conrad didn’t, Lawr was the only one who loved me demonstrably and unreservedly.

“Listen,” I began. “Conrad called tonight and he asked me to ask you to quit badgering him.”

I heard Lawr hoot before he replied, “Jesus, that guy’s an *. I called him twice, MeeMee. The first call lasted two minutes before he hung up on me. The second was right after that where he answered and I shared he was a dick before I hung up on him. That’s not badgering.”