Thomas & January (Sleepless 2)

“Uh, yeah, that’s January, but we’re here with those guys,” I said, though I don’t know why I even mentioned it. This guy seemed infinitely more interesting than dumbass Ailin.

“They can come along then. Shane,” the guy said, offering his hand.

“Tom,” I answered, swiftly shaking his hand with enough grip to let him know I wasn’t the type to take crap. This made him smile.

I tossed my head toward Shane’s table, gesturing for January to follow and she stood. Ailin grabbed her wrist and for a split second I almost cocked back and hit the guy square in the jaw. She played it off with all the Southern charm I didn’t know she possessed, picked up our pints and followed me over, making me feel smug and a little bit stupid all at the same time.

“Ailin’s angry,” she teased with a knowing smile.

“Is he?” I asked.

“Who’s this guy?” she asked, nodding toward Shane.

“Apparently not a fan of The Ivories,” I answered vaguely, making her brows furrow.

When we reached the table, Shane introduced us to his friends. “Tom, January,” he said, smiling at her by way of introduction to which she beamed back, “this is Cillian, Douglas, Niam, Rowan, and,” he beamed, “my lass, Siobhan.” Together, these men were five of the most formidable men I’d ever come across in my entire life.

“A pleasure,” January said, immediately sitting next to Siobhan, an instant friend, it seemed.

I nodded my greeting. I sat next to January and we got to know those strangers better than I would have ever thought.

“So, you’re Irish, then,” Shane inquired of January after an hour of drinking. We were all warm and friendly by this time but I mostly observed...January.

“Yes’sir,” January slurred through a slight buzz. I was cutting her off.

“By what parts, miss?” Douglas asked.

“By Killarney.”

“Shut your hole!” Cillian said, slamming his heavy hand on the table, making January jump then laugh. “That’s me family’s town! What’d ya’ say your last name was?”

“I didn’t, but it’s MacLochlainn.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! I know your Uncle Donovan!”

“Get out of town!” January exclaimed, eyes bright, and leaned Cillian’s way.

“By the heavens, I knew you looked familiar. You’ve got your family’s eyes, lass.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“’Twasn’t meant as a compliment,” he teased but she slapped his shoulder in retribution, making him laugh.

“My head’s reelin’,” Cillian said, looking on January. “Donovan MacLochlainn’s niece in my very presence. By God, I’ve heard nothing but talk of your talent from here to kingdom come for years. The town’s sick of it, but he carries on and on.” He sat up and looked around. January grabbed my arm, making me wish I could glue her hand there, but I was too distracted to dwell because she appeared nervous. “James!” Cillian yelled across the room. “James! Have you your board tonight?” he asked one of the band members near the bar top.

“Aye!” James answered back.

“But I have a gift for you, James! A Yank! A bloody Yank who can play like an angel apparently.”

Cillian grabbed January’s arm and hauled her to her feet, the look of surprise on her face made my heart race. I stood and grabbed her other arm.

“Come, darlin’, none of us bite,” he said, smiling.

“But - I haven’t prepared anything. I haven’t played Maimeó’s songs in years!”

“It’s like riding a bicycle, lass. ’Sides, you’re Irish. It’s in your blood!”

I was right in step beside January. “Do you want to leave?” I asked, worried.