When I got back to my room in a warm flannel and jeans, Patrick had stripped my bed. The laundry was wrapped into a ball, and he was sitting on the bare mattress, leaning over with his elbows on his knees and his head tipped toward the floor.
“All clean,” I announced quietly, grabbing his attention. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“Ye’ve dark circles under yer eyes, and I’ve just found ye sleepin’ like de dead at eleven in de mornin’,” he said, ignoring my question. “What’s goin’ on, Amy?”
“Nothing.” My reply was too fast—too sharp and definitive to pass as anything but a lie.
He searched my eyes for a long moment, then his gaze traveled down my body slowly before meeting mine again. “Mum’s worried about ye.”
“I—”
“Called me dis mornin’, full o’tears, tellin’ me dere’s somet’in’ wrong wit’ ye,” his mouth firmed into a straight line as he looked away from me. “Den I get here and yer sleepin’ like de dead in de middle of t’day.” He stood and I took an involuntary step backward. I’d forgotten how much bigger he was than me, and while it didn’t frighten me, it did make me incredibly aware of the small size of my room. “I can see dat dere’s somet’in’ goin’ on, yeah? I can tell by lookin’ at ye. So why don’t we cut t’rough de bullshite, and ye just tell me already before I lose me fuckin’ mind.”
My jaw dropped as I realized how wound up he was. His hands were flexing at his sides, and his head was tilted in question as he stared me down. I could even see his chest rising and falling hard beneath his sweatshirt, almost as if he’d been running.
The words came tumbling out of my mouth without thought.
“I’m eighteen. My parents are moving. Back to the states, I think. I’m not sure and they haven’t told me. But they said I can’t go with them. Well, they didn’t say that exactly, it was more along the lines of, ‘You’re an adult now and can pay your own way, so we’re moving.’ They didn’t specifically kick me out. They said I could stay in this house if I wanted, but I can’t pay the rent and I don’t have a job and I still have a couple months of school left and I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Actually saying the words aloud brought such a relief that I said the last sentence in one long wail, my words rolling over each other, and by the time I was finished, I could feel a sob bubbling up my throat. “Why would they do this?”
He didn’t say a word as he stepped in against me, and before I could take another breath, he slid one hand around my waist and the other under my ass, boosting me up until I was wrapped around him. I buried my face in his neck as he began to walk through the house, talking quietly and kissing my temple.
“Dis is what has ye sleepin’ t’day away? Shhh, now. Shhh, we can fix dis.”
I’m not sure if he even shut the front door as we left, his long legs eating up the distance between my house and Peg’s quickly. It was abnormally quiet as we entered, and I remembered that Peg was at work for a few more hours, but I didn’t say a word as he rounded the couch and sat down heavily. His hand was rubbing up and down my back in long, sweeping motions, and I didn’t fight him as he grabbed first one leg and then the other from around his waist and bent them at his sides so I was straddling his thighs. I was more comfortable that way, the position feeling anything but sexual as I burrowed even deeper into the front of his sweatshirt.
I was comforted in a way that I had never been before. The relief in telling someone that I’d soon be homeless made the situation seem less in some way, as if just the telling had made things less scary.
My body grew lax as he silently rubbed my back and the exhaustion that seemed to be my constant companion over the last week seeped even deeper into my pores. I wasn’t sure how he thought he could fix things. I’d looked at the problem from a hundred different angles and found no solution…but his confidence was a soothing balm on my nerves, all the same.
As I drifted off with my face still pressed against his neck, I was overwhelmed with gratefulness that he was there. I also realized foggily that he smelled a little like Exclamation! perfume.
Chapter 14
Amy
“Dey’ve kicked her out of de fuckin’ house, Mum.”
“Is that the problem then?”
“She started cryin’ straight off when I asked her about it.”
“Ach. She knows she can stay here.”
“Obviously not, since de poor girl has not even been gettin’ out of bed she’s so worried.”
Their voices were low, but I still heard every word after Peg came bustling into the house after work. I was still in Patrick’s lap, and my legs were cramping from being in the same position for so long, but I didn’t want to move. He hadn’t realized that I was awake yet, and I was enjoying the feeling of one of his hands in my hair and the other resting low on my back.
“Well, it looks like she’s gotten a bit of rest now.”
“She was until ye came bangin’ in de door.”
I jolted at his words and laughed a little at being caught. His hand slid out of my hair so I could lean back, and when I opened my eyes the only thing I could see was Peg’s face.
Her jaw was set in a stubborn line, and her hands were on her hips as she stared at me.
“We’ll pack yer things and move ye tonight,” she announced with a nod. “I’ll not hear another word about it.”