Chapter Three
Come morning, Aiden was determined to become a whole new person.
He woke up before midday which, lately, was an accomplishment that took no fewer than five alarms to achieve.
First came a much-needed shave.
He showered with the window open, listening to the late-morning birdsong that sounded distinctly different from the aggressive seagulls that would greet him on his way to work. But the noisy gulls weren’t something he had to worry about now, just enjoying the spray of water against his skin, almost standing up straighter the more he shaved.
A towel wrapped around his waist, curly hair heavily laden with water, Aiden wandered to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. He might have packed way too many jeans and jumper combinations, but he didn’t neglect to bring his own stash of branded tea bags.
Aiden had spent a few days in Northern Ireland and hadn’t been able to find a decent cup of tea the entire time. It was an experience that he would like to think he learned from. His second takeaway from Belfast was to make sure he was in possession of the room key in case his holiday partner got mind-numbingly drunk and misplaced it. But that was added to Aiden’s long list of “how to take care of Dan” that had only developed since their college years.
As the kettle boiled, he cast his eyes around the kitchen-cum-living room admiringly—appreciating that at least the place looked more put together than the chaos from yesterday—until his gaze settled on his phone resting on the coffee table. He hadn’t switched it on since arriving, although the thought had crossed his mind once or twice. Fleeting thoughts, dismissed as quickly as they were conceived.
But it had been a couple of days. He should probably let someone know that he was okay. Other than a last-minute call to his mam before boarding the plane (reminding her to call Kat for anything that needed doing, wincing as he hung up through her complaints), or Daire knowing about his plan from the get-go, Aiden hadn’t actually told anyone where he was.
The boiling water came to its end, drawing Aiden out of his thoughts. He brewed his drink, cupped the mug between his hands, and retired to the sofa, legs crossed, knees poking out from the soft blue towel.
He should at least check his messages, right?
It wasn’t as though he’d have a lot of them. His mam was a busy person, Daire knew that he’d be fine, and—yeah, no. He wouldn’t have a lot of messages.
Against his gut feeling, Aiden picked up the phone and watched the screen light up.
As the screen booted up, Aiden let out a sigh of relief. Nothing but his usual screensaver of the most impressive ninety-nine ice cream that he had ever seen. No onslaught of texts and missed calls, no angry voice mails or pissed-off emojis. He took a sip of tea, comforted by the knowledge that his sudden departure hadn’t warranted a panic.
Then the local network kicked in and his phone vibrated to life.
Aiden jolted, accosted by the litany of beeps and buzzes and blips from all the messaging apps that he had. (Why did he have so many? Surely one would do the trick?)
It was carnage.
Aiden’s tea and Ryan’s couch took a significant hit, the dark brown brew absorbing quickly into the fabric before Aiden could even register that he had spilled it.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said as he scrambled for something to salvage the cushions. Coming up short, he tore the towel off from around his waist and started to dab at the increasing stain—all while his phone continued to blow up with notifications.
It turned into a crescendo of hell, pointed and overwhelming and—
“Not exactly what I expected to see on a Tuesday afternoon, but here we are. Why are you screaming?”
Aiden had exactly three seconds to register three things:
Someone just walked into the house.
He was naked as the day he was born.
He was screaming.
Aiden yanked the tea-stained towel back to him, cheeks (on his face) flushed as he turned to face the doorway. Leaning up against the glass frame of the front entrance stood Tam in russet dungarees, a brow raised and a bemused smile on her face. And beside her was Finn, looking everywhere but directly at him.
Oh god.
“Bad morning?” came the next question from Tam, casually, as though they hadn’t just walked in on nothing short of a catastrophe.
“Yeah, you could say that,” Aiden replied, inching toward the door.
“Do mornings ever start normally for you, or are you always dramatic?” Tam slid the door closed behind her and ventured into the house like she owned the place. “Stop looking so shy. I’m a staunch lesbian. You’re surprisingly cute underneath all that bumfluff but decidedly not my thing. Maybe Finn’s, but he can speak for himself.”
Finn decidedly didn’t say anything, still studying the ceiling with a deep-set frown and intense concentration.
“Not shy, just tryna be decent,” Aiden huffed.
He held up a hand for them to wait just there before sprinting off to the bedroom to pull on some clothes. Emerging a few moments later, he found Tam critically looking at the dark brown stain on the pale gray fabric of the couch.
“You wouldn’t happen to know anywhere around here that sells furniture?” Aiden asked, almost afraid to regard Finn in fear of his reaction.
“I wouldn’t worry about that. I’ve been telling Ryan to get rid of that couch for years.” Tam flashed him a dimpled grin that Aiden took as reassuring. “I should thank you.”
“Dunno if I’d go that far,” Finn said, breaking his silence. “But it’s fine. Wouldn’t worry about it.”
Despite the reassurance, Aiden knew that it wouldn’t stop him from trying to minimize the damage with warm water, elbow grease, and maybe a few tears later on. “I didn’t realize you two know each other.”
And why would he? Aiden had just arrived the other day. His limited interactions to date had been the two people standing in front of him and the half-asleep clerk at Murphy’s.
“Everyone in this town knows one another,” Finn replied, tone dry. Tam nudged him with the point of her elbow.
“Ignore this ass. We’re good friends,” she corrected with a huff of a laugh. “Helps that my kid is best friends with his. Thick as thieves, and Ryan is a damn good babysitter. Makes sense, considering he’s an overgrown ankle biter himself.”
“So, yeah, pretty close,” she added with an absent shrug before sauntering to the kitchen with the ease of someone who had been here many times. “Adie made rock brownies. You’re gonna need something to drink to wash it down.”
“You brought me brownies?” Aiden said, voice high and undoubtedly delighted in his surprise. No matter how old he got, brownies would never lose their appeal.
“No, she brought you rocks disguised as brownies,” Finn corrected. “Tam’s wife is all about experimenting in the kitchen.”
“If you ever tell her the truth about her baking, I will hurt you. Everything tastes amazing and definitely not burned,” Tam called from the kitchen. “Anyway, Finn told her what happened to you yesterday, and she demanded I bring these over. To finish you off and put you out of your misery, I think.”
Aiden let out a bark of laughter, because if death by brownie was how he was going to go, then so be it.
“Need another cup of tea, then,” Aiden said, following her in to pull out the box of tea bags he’d brought with him.
“Don’t tell me you brought your own.” Finn narrowed his eyes at him, leaning in the doorway.
When Aiden didn’t reply (guiltily glancing away from him), Tam snorted. “So fucking Irish. Make me a cuppa while you’re at it.”
Aiden got to work. As he made the three cups of tea, Tam took a small box out of her tote bag. She sat cross-legged at the kitchen table, forearms resting atop it, waiting until Aiden arrived to present the brownies with a grand flourish.
Aiden furrowed his brows.
“I…”
“Yeah, I know.” Tam laughed, picking up a charred black clump. “Adie tries. She wants to make them an item in the bakery.”
“Have you had one of these yet?” Aiden asked, picking up the other (larger, he noted) piece. It was coarse and rough between his fingers, dark brown dust falling to the table.
“Oh no.” Tam shook her head. “I’m waiting to see if they kill you first.”
“And here I thought you were being nice, not using me as a guinea pig,” Aiden scoffed, drawing one knee up to his chest, ever the bisexual and unable to sit properly.
“Can’t I be both?” Tam countered with a raised brow. “Okay, how about we both go on the count of three?”
“Finn, are you not having one?” Aiden asked, peering at Finn still leaning against the doorway. But this time, he looked to be anticipating something. It only made Aiden even more dubious of the brownies.
“Allergic to hazelnuts,” he replied.
“Bullshit, there’s no hazelnuts in these,” Tam replied.
“Can never be too careful.”
“I see your game, and I don’t respect it,” Tam told him, which only broadened Finn’s smile.
“All right then, on the count of three,” Aiden said with a nod, holding up the brownie to clink against Tam’s, charred soot falling to the table. Aiden gulped. “One.”
“Two,” Tam continued.
And then, together, “Three.”
Aiden took a bite. Admittedly a larger bite than he’d intended, mouth quickly filling with vaguely chocolate-tasting cinders, his saliva combining to make this thick cement that was almost impossible to swallow. But he persevered. Someone he didn’t know made him brownies because he was having a rough go of things, despite knowing nothing about him. He owed it to Adie to at least try to stomach a bite. He managed to get it down, chugging tea and slightly scalding himself in the process, eyes watering and chest heaving.
Aiden looked to Tam, slack-jawed, her uneaten brownie still in hand. Then, she started to laugh. “I didn’t think you’d actually eat it.”
“What?” Aiden coughed, tucking his mouth into the crook of his elbow. “You brought me brownies that your wife made me, and you thought I’d say no?”
“Clearly I thought you had more sense,” Tam agreed, putting her own brownie back in the box. “But that was fucking hilarious, so thank you.”
“Go fuck yourself,” Aiden replied, but it was spoken through a laugh—one that Tam joined in, nudging him under the table with the toe of her boot. “And you, too,” he added, nodding toward Finn. “For standing by and letting it happen.”
Finn’s only response was a snort, pushing himself away from the doorway. “On that note, I need to scamper. Tam, I’ll see you later. Aiden, try not to break anything else, yeah?”
“Try not to walk in on anyone else naked, then,” Aiden replied, watching Finn leave through the living room, the front door shutting with a firm click behind him.
“You’re a funny guy,” Tam said almost absently. “You should come by for dinner this weekend.”
Aiden frowned, brushing the crumbs from the table into his hands.
“I don’t want to come off as rude,” he started, unsure how to continue without sounding just that.
“If you’re rude, I’ll be rude right back. Don’t worry about it.”
For some reason, Aiden didn’t doubt that in the slightest.
“All right then. Why’re you being so nice?”
Tam was quiet for a moment, shifting a little in the chair as she leaned forward ever so slightly, regarding Aiden carefully.
“Something clearly happened to you back home to make you come all this way alone,” Tam replied evenly. “Canlaroy draws in people like that. My dad came over from Vietnam, and my wife was a blow-in. Both had their own reasons.”
Aiden regretted asking that question in the first place. He felt laid bare, exposed, in front of a woman that he barely knew and yet could see him so clearly.
“Being alone is great; don’t get me wrong. But you’ve gotta have people.” Tam’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Anyway, it costs nothing to be nice to someone who’s gonna buy more shit from my business.”
Aiden’s gaze was still drawn to his lap, hands cradling that collection of burned crumbs. He wasn’t alone back home. He had Daire, a more extended group of friends he saw when schedules allowed, some colleagues he was friendly with, and his mam.
He had people, yes. But they were halfway across the world. And here was this woman, offering him a hand in friendship despite knowing nothing other than he liked tea and he ended up in a lot of weird circumstances. Aiden wasn’t about to turn that olive branch away.
“Okay, dinner it is.” Aiden nodded in agreement, and Tam smiled around the rim of her mug.
“Glad to hear I don’t have to kidnap you to come,” she (hopefully) joked. “There’s just one condition.”
Aiden raised his brow in question.
“If you want to survive the night, distract Adie and keep her out of the kitchen.”
He agreed. What could go wrong?