Thomas & January (7 page)

The boy looked at me briefly but his eyes lit up when they hit January’s hopeful glance. “All yours, miss.”

January floored me when she grabbed her bag and left me in the backseat on my own. I’m ashamed to say my mouth gaped. I was flabbergasted at the little minx.
              “Thank you,” she said, settling in beside him.
              “No problems, miss.” He smiled at her and I stifled the urge to knock his block off.

January rummaged through her purse as the boy pulled out of the airport and onto the M1. She pulled out a bag of ginger candies and offered me one.

I waved it away with one hand. “No, thank you,” I said, still staring at her.

“Would you like one...I’m sorry, I never asked your name.”

“Ailin, miss.”

“January,” she offered, smiling. “Would you like a piece of candy, Ailin?”

“Thank you, miss. I’d love one.”

I sat stock-still when her hand reached over and handed
Ailin
a paper-wrapped ginger candy. My hand practically crushed the iPod I was holding when his fingers grazed hers. She turned her attention back to the sights around her but Ailin was having trouble paying attention to the road.
              “Oy!” I said, startling Ailin back to the present. “Is this all you do for Seven?” I asked him through the rearview. His eyes met mine briefly and with a silent, cold, hard expression, I told him to let January go because, well, because I wanted him to.
              “No, sir,” he answered. “I’m a bit of a gofer for them, really.”
              “Me too!” January exclaimed, turning back to Ailin.
              “Really?” he asked excitedly before meeting my eyes again, swallowing hard. “Really?” he asked again but with less enthusiasm.
              “Yeah,” January answered. “At first, I only fetched coffee and that sort of crap, but with time, they gave me a few more responsibilities and were impressed. It’s why I’ve been given the chance to become an apprentice of sorts with Tom here,” she said, glancing back my way.
That and Jason thought it would be a fun game to throw us together
, I thought.
              “Anyway, don’t give up,” she said, patting his free hand, making
me
red in the face.
Calm down, Thomas!
“It’ll pay off.” She smiled warmly.
              “Thank you,” he said, slipping his hand from underneath hers. She frowned but didn’t think more of it. Ailin’s eyes met mine and I nodded.
             
              We met all the necessary people at Seven, before Ailin drove us to the inn the label had set us up in. January sat up front again, inadvertently pissing me off.
              “We should go out tonight,” January said, surprising me.
              “Seriously?” I asked her.
              “Yeah,” she continued, stepping around the front of the car to stand in front of me while Ailin unloaded our duffels. She looked up into my face and that’s when I saw it.
Innocence
. She was going to kill me, I just knew it. “Ailin said a couple of his pals are going to Temple Bar tonight if we’d like to join them.”
              “Did he?” I asked her, eyeing Ailin as he hurriedly shuffled our bags inside without so much as a glance my way. “He included me in this invitation?” I asked, turning back her way.
              She furrowed her brows as if what I’d asked was ludicrous. “Of course you’re invited, Tom. I think it was mostly for you, anyway, and I was just included as a top off.”
Sure.
Zap. Zap.
              “Yeah, Temple Bar is a blast,” I admitted. “We can fish around for a few little bands as well, if you want.”
              “Oh, hell yeah! What a good idea.”
              I let January lead me into Anchor House, the inn the label had set us up in. It was charming, like most places in Dublin, and was just a short walk to Temple Bar, which would work out nicely for us. January was situated in the room directly across from mine and we each had a private bath, which was practically unheard of in little inns like these, but I was grateful because I wanted January’s first night abroad to be a comfortable one.
Why do you even care
?
              We agreed to meet at nine o’clock downstairs and would walk to Oliver St. John Gogarty’s because
Ailin
wanted January to visit somewhere
authentic
for her first night. I kid you not, those were his exact words. He seemed pretty smug when all was said and done, but when I "accidentally" intercepted his hug goodbye to January, he seemed to get my message clearly, not that that would stop him, cheeky bastard. Didn’t matter, I liked competition. I mean, not competition. I meant that - I just - you see - I didn’t think it was a good idea for either one of us to get involved with people when we’re supposed to be doing a job.
              At six, I decided that I’d rather go run than eat because it’d been more than twenty-four hours since my last run and I was jonesing bad. I threw my garb on, a pair of Adidas track pants and a t-shirt, and went downstairs. Outside, I began to stretch against the railing.

The door opened, but I was too involved in my stuff to pay attention. That is, until I caught the whiff of January’s perfume.

“Hey,” she said, looking confused. Her eyes raked up and down my body. For some reason, this made me self-conscious. I’m assuming because she hadn’t seen me in anything other than baggy jeans and heavy hoodies but I’m not sure why I gave a shit. “I didn’t know you were a runner.”

I took in her jogging outfit and thought the same. “Neither did I. You - that is, I meant to say, I didn’t know
you
ran.”
Smooth. Very smooth.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said, but amended, “but I don’t talk when I run. That’s when I listen to a lot of new music, actually.”

“Same here,” she said, holding up her iPod. This girl was all surprises.

Without another word, we began our jog. Since I’d been in Dublin before, for several weeks actually when I traveled with The Ivories (we’d had a crazy following here for some reason) and I was familiar with the strange cobblestone streets, I signaled for January to follow me. We jogged the River Liffey past Temple Bar for approximately two miles before crossing the bridge over the river and jogging Liffey the way back to Anchor House. The buildings were a pretty mix of old and new architecture. It fit Dublin so well. A city of old, cherished tradition but the people weren’t afraid of progress either. God, I loved Ireland. The last half-mile or so, I slowed down some to slow our heart rates. I was extremely impressed that January could keep up with me. It certainly explained the shape her legs were in. I’d yet to really see them, since it was dark at The Bowery, but their long, lean shapes definitely couldn’t be hidden by the pair of jeans she’d been wearing the night we’d kissed. I’d noticed. I hated that I did but, all the same, I did.

I looked over at her transiently throughout the run. I found her to be one of the most beautiful women I’d ever met and that included Kelly, I was loath to admit. I couldn’t deny it anymore, not when every male within a five-mile radius could sense her coming and would have jumped in front of a bus to make way for her. Every guy we passed, I wanted to punch in the gut for glancing her way.
God, I’m a mess
. For her, I was a slobbering mess. I hated it and loved it all at the same time.

She was a good five feet ten inches, possibly taller. She met my chin, which was practically unheard of. She had ridiculously long dark brown hair and blue eyes the color of the Atlantic. She was lean and beautiful and apparently talented according to Jason. He said she’d given up a full scholarship to Berkeley for piano. I was beginning to become enthralled with her and I absolutely hated it. I had to fight it. Had to.

When we reached Anchor House, we both leaned against the wrought-iron railing to catch our breath. We sat for a good five minutes before we were able to acknowledge each other.

“You’re kind of a hoss,” I admitted.

“So are you, actually,” she said, wrapping the cord of her earbuds around her iPod. “Hear anything good?” she asked, gesturing to my own iPod.

“Maybe. I was partial to a couple of indies who were too good to want a label’s interference, I think. There was one,” I said, thinking, turning her way. “A band in Paris. Feel like crossing the channel?” I asked with a slight smile.

“Uh, um, of course,” she said too cheerfully, even for January.

“
Okay
,” I said, skeptical.

“What’s their name?” she asked, changing the subject.

“All The Pretty Girls,” I admitted.

“Lame,” she said, laughing.

“Yeah, but if all bands with terrible original names were turned down, we wouldn’t have The Beatles or even Led Zeppelin.”

“Yeah, Johnny and the Moondogs and the New Yardbirds would probably be playing pathetic hotel lounges right about now,” she said, then snorted, shocking the shit out of me.

“You - how did you...?”

“How did
you
?” She rolled her eyes and jogged up the steps into the Anchor House and up to her room, leaving me with my jaw flush on the concrete below.

Zap
.

After dozing off a bit after my run, I woke flustered to someone pounding on my door. I turned on my back, tired as hell from the time difference, and pulled my cell out. Eight-thirty.
Damn
.
Wait, I wasn’t supposed to meet January until nine.
I dragged myself off the bed and threw the door open.

January stood at my feet, absolutely breathtaking and in one of the sexiest outfits I’d ever seen. The kicker? She was practically covered from head to toe, go figure.

“Is this okay?” she asked, frantic.

“What?” I asked, dazed from her sheer presence.

“Is this okay? For tonight? I have no idea what’s appropriate anymore. People in the city don’t dress like we do in Austin, Tom.” I got a kick out of the fact that she associated me with Austin although I’d lived in New York my entire life. “So, I figured it was the same for Dublin.” Her face bunched. “Help me?”

“This is fine,” I said, not exactly telling the truth. The truth was, she made me want to rethink wanting to be alone. If she were my girl, Temple Bar could suck it and I’d just stay here, in this room with her, memorizing her face with my fingers and mouth.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes, I’m sure.” I stepped inside and she followed, shutting the door behind her.

“Why aren’t you ready?”

“Truthfully? You woke me up. If you hadn’t stopped by, I would’ve probably missed meeting you downstairs.”

“I’m sorry. Did you want to bail?” she asked. “I don’t mind going alone.”

Not if you paid me a million dollars
, I thought, sinking another nail into my coffin.
              “No, I’m cool now. I want to get out and listen to a few bands.”
              “All right, I’ll meet you downstairs then.”

I closed the door behind her and showered and dressed for Temple Bar quickly. I sat in front of the small mirror above my sink and wondered what the hell I was doing. I had no intention of looking for bands that night. I just wanted to stare at January. Oh, yeah, and make sure Ailin or anyone else for that matter,
didn’t
. I took a long look at myself in the mirror. I was twenty-two years old and appeared thirty, but that wasn’t because I physically looked thirty. It was because I wore my bitterness on my face like a second coat. I briefly thought for a moment if January could help me shed that coat but shrugged it off. I needed to remember that January would more than likely hurt the hell out of me and then I’d be an even bigger jerk than I already was and, to be honest, I was tired of being a jerk. It was wearing.

I took the stairs into the lobby below. The friendly desk clerk pointed outside. I opened the door and found January sitting on the stoop below me so I joined her.

“You ready?” I asked.

“Yup.” She stood and wiped the dirt off her black skinny jeans. She carefully balanced herself down the steps on her ridiculous black heels.

“You’re gonna break an ankle,” I observed before grabbing her arm. A thick, syrupy heat spread through my hand and laced its way up into my chest, making another icy layer crack and spit in anger.

When she reached the walk, I let go like my hand had been at a hot stove. We walked in silence to Gogarty’s, my hand repeatedly wanting to guide her by her lower back around potholes or stumps. I had to ring my arm in every time it reached out.

Gogarty’s was packed even for a Friday from what I could remember, all tourists, but the unbelievable traditional music there was enough to wrangle even a few locals. The door swung open and we were hit with the fragrance of classic Irish cuisine, in other words, a bunch of meat and potatoes, and yeast but the music, the
music
that filled the pub was truly tangible. It rang in the air and swept over each expectant ear, swirling to the rooftop and guided back down. It was beautiful, incredibly beautiful.

Ailin saw us from across the bar and waved us over. We weaved our way through and he gestured to two empty seats beside him. January sat directly next to him and I next to her, but I got right back up.

“What’ll you have?” I asked.

“Uh,” she said, looking around, unsure.

My brows narrowed. “Do you drink, January?”

“Not really,” she shrugged sheepishly. “Just get me whatever you’re drinking.”

I laughed. “I don’t think you want what I’m having, sweetheart.”

“Condescension. Nice touch.”

“Fine,” I said, lifting my hands in surrender. “I’ll get you a pint of Guinness.”

“Good,” she said smugly, making me smile like a dumbass.

I leaned down into her ear. “Whatever you do, January, don’t take a damn thing from these clowns. You hear me? We don’t really know them.” Her eyes were round in her head but she nodded. I sat back up and gestured to the others. “Pint, boys?” They shook their heads, their glasses over half full. Not half empty. Twenty-two years of Tie-Dye Tom couldn’t be erased so swiftly after all.