Page 42 of Try Line Hearts
“And he kissed me back.” His voice dropped. “Go han-mhór.”Very much.
Maeve made a sound halfway between a curse and a delighted gasp. “You actually did it.”
“It was drunk,” Byrne said quickly. “Messy. I grabbed him. He grabbed me. I wanted—” He broke off, heat flooding his face even alone. “I wanted everything.”
“I’m going to need more detail than that,” Maeve said without missing a beat.
He barked out a laugh despite himself. “Why?”
“Because I may know and love you,” she replied serenely, “but you’re both very attractive and I’m still a woman.”
“Christ,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“Focus,” she said, gentler now. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” The word came fast and sharp. “He stopped it. Said he wanted me, but not like that. Not when I’d wake up hating myself. He was… kind.”
“Well,” Maeve said. “The bar is in hell and he still managed to clear it.”
“And today,” Byrne went on, quieter now, “he didn’t freak out. Didn’t name it. Didn’t push. Just said we could talk when I’m ready.”
A pause. Then, softer: “That scares you more than if he’d run.”
“Yes,” Byrne admitted. “If he bolted, I’d know what to do with it.”
“Of course,” she said. “You’re excellent with loss. You’ve had years of practice.”
He closed his eyes, forehead resting against the cool glass. “I don’t know how to be this version of myself and still be what everyone wants.”
“Step one,” Maeve said firmly, “stop trying to be all of them at once. Step two: stop pretending this will disappear if you behave well enough.”
“He deserves better,” Byrne said. “Than this. Than me.”
“He deserves happiness that doesn’t flinch,” Maeve replied. “And so do you. Stop acting like happiness is a finite resource reserved for braver people.”
A breath shuddered out of him.
“What if I ruin everything?”
“What if you don’t?” she countered. “What if you let yourself have one thing that isn’t punishment?”
He stared out at the empty pitch. The floodlights were dark. The lines barely visible.
“Tell me the truth,” Maeve said gently. “Are there some feelings?”
He laughed, broken and quiet. “Tá rud éigin ann.”There’s something there.
“That’s enough for now,” she said. “You don’t need to solve your entire life in one night.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know,” Maeve said. “But being scared doesn’t mean you’re wrong. It just means this matters.” Then, warmer, brighter: “And for the record, I’m thrilled. Deeply. Unreasonably thrilled.”
“He has good hair,” Byrne said.
“I’m aware. Twitter made sure of that.”
He smiled despite himself. “Tá grá agam duit,” he said quietly.I love you.
