Love & Luck(50)

Rowan’s eyebrows shot up amusedly, just the way I knew they would. I liked surprising him. And besides, it was completely accurate. Once when I was in elementary school, I’d gotten so fed up with the situation that I’d drawn a bunch of arrows plus the words IN HERE on the toilet seat in permanent marker. My mom had laughed for a solid hour.

“Queen Maeve, your bravery knows no limits. If you kiss the pee stone, I kiss the pee stone. You have my undying allegiance.” Rowan swept into a low bow.

“Thank you, my lord,” I said, bowing back.



When it was finally our turn, even my daredevil instinct faltered slightly. The cutout the stone was located in was really just a hole, the long drop down to the lawn safeguarded with just three metal bars.

The worker beckoned to me. “Ready for the gift of gab, love?” He wore a cap, and his collar was pulled up against white stubbly whiskers.

“Ready,” I said resolutely, ignoring the way my stomach spiraled. Rowan gave me a reassuring smile.

I sat quickly on the ground, shimmying back until my butt was on the edge. The hole felt cavernous behind me, wind gushing up through it.

“All right, then. Lean back, hand on each bar, back, back, all the way back,” the man chanted rhythmically, like he must have done a million times before. I followed his instructions until I was completely upside down, the man’s hands firmly on my waist. Blood rushed to my head along with Guidebook Lady’s words. Because you’re a human and because you’re alive, I’m going to assume that you’ve faced your own Blarney moment. A time when you’ve put yourself out there—vulnerable, dangling—but instead of the blessed reciprocity your heart yearned for, all you got was a slimy stone.

Cubby’s face appeared, and a dart of pain traveled from my heart to the rest of my body. But instead of forcing the feelings away, I sat with them. Or dangled with them, I guess. Just like I had in Killarney. Again, none of the pain went away, but they did shift over slightly, revealing something that had been hidden. My feelings—my heartache, embarrassment, pain, all of it—weren’t me. They were something I had to go through, but they weren’t me any more than a pair of sneakers or a T-shirt was me. I was something else entirely.

“Kiss the stone, love,” the man called down patiently, breaking me out of my epiphany.

Right. I planted a quick kiss on the stone. It was, in fact, manky. And oddly empowering. I kissed it again, this time for Rowan.

“Success!” Rowan grabbed my hand to help me once I was upright. “You okay?”

“A little dizzy.” I wasn’t sure what to do with my new realization. It wasn’t like I could just throw off my heartache like a sweaty jersey. But could I look at it in a new way? As something that didn’t define me?

I looked up at Rowan. “You don’t have to kiss the stone. I did it for you.”

He grinned. “And now you have truly earned my undying allegiance.” He kept a steadying arm around my shoulders as we made our way back to the staircase.

Back on ground level, I was just about to try to put my revelation into words when a voice shot through the crowd, spearing my attention. It was the kind of voice you couldn’t ignore. Bossy. Female. American.

My feet froze to the ground. That couldn’t be . . .

“All right, people, listen up. Cameramen are going first. The rest of you? Single file. I need one good shot and then we’re moving on to the next site. We’re already behind, so I need you to make this speedy.”

“No,” I whispered.

“What?” I felt rather than saw Rowan turn toward me. I couldn’t move. Twenty feet away, just past a long steel bench, my aunt Mel stood in full camera makeup.

“No,” I said more forcefully. Aunt Mel shifted to the left, yanking at her perfectly tailored blazer, and a second heaping of panic poured over me. It was Walter. And my mom. Walter must have sensed my gaze, because suddenly he looked up, his eyes locking on mine. A single thought erupted in my brain. Run.

There was no time to warn Rowan. My feet pounded the pavement, and I rounded the corner of the castle so quickly, I slipped on mud. I needed a solid hiding place, somewhere I could gather my thoughts. Someplace . . .

Like that. I spotted a small opening in the bottom of the castle and hurtled toward it, ducking under the low doorway and stumbling up two steps to a small room. It was barely the size of a walk-in closet, dark except for a thin shaft of light working its way through a chink in the wall. I sank to my knees, adrenaline rushing through my body. Now what? I had to warn Ian.

“Addie?” My heart seized, but luckily it was just Rowan in the doorway, a serious frown crowding his features. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but there’s such a thing as common decency. You don’t just tear away from your travel partner with no explanation.”

Common decency? Travel partner? Rowan reverted to the role of stuffy English professor when he was angry. Before I could assign this particular trait the label of “cute,” I grabbed his sleeve and pulled him in, our bodies colliding clumsily as he stumbled up the steps. The ceiling was much too low for him, and he ended up in a half stoop over me.

“My mom’s out there. The whole wedding party’s out there,” I stammered.

His jaw dropped—I’d never seen anyone’s jaw actually drop before—and he turned to gape at the doorway. “Which one was she? Did she see you?”