Home > Thomas & January (Sleepless #2)(16)

Thomas & January (Sleepless #2)(16)
Author: Fisher Amelie

“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.

   
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