Page 54 of Experiments in Offline Dating

“Have you ever considered piracy? You’d make a wonderful Dread Pirate Roberts. You know . . . if the whole sheep thing doesn’t work out.”

Jesus help me, he would too. Those tight leather pants, the mask, the black shirt with the billowy sleeves, half open down the front. I swallowed. I think I have a new fantasy.

Suddenly, a rock rolled under my boot and I was falling. Tadhg’s hand shot out and caught a fistful of his sweater and jerked me back onto my feet before I could hit the ground.

Everything was spinning. I was breathing too fast. His fist was still holding the sweater at my back, pulling the fabric tight to my chest, as he put his other hand on my shoulder. I kept gulping air. I couldn’t get it in fast enough. My pulse pounded, and razor-sharp fear burned hot up my throat.

I was getting too much oxygen. I was making myself dizzy. I backed away shakily, farther from the edge, onto the grassy slope, and I closed my eyes and tried to slow my breathing. I was perfectly safe. We were several feet from the edge. Even if I had fallen, I would have been fine. But after a day of fear and adrenaline, and picturing over and over what it would be like if I tripped and fell off into the crashing sea, that fact didn’t calm me.

“Maya. Hey!” Tadhg’s voice sounded far away, though I felt his hand on my shoulder. “Maya. What’s happening? Talk to me.”

I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t open my eyes. I tried to follow my fear protocol, but everything spun. I felt drunk. I couldn’t center myself.

If I opened my eyes, I knew I’d throw up. I stretched out my arm, hand open, and his hand met mine. I grabbed it and squeezed.

Then he was there. He’d grabbed me and pressed me to him, arm tight around me, curling himself around my body. His hand was in my hair, and he was pressing my face tight to his chest to slow my breathing, his other arm wrapped around my back. I shook. He squeezed me. Hard.

He shushed into the top of my head, the way one would shush a baby or a frightened horse, and the sound calmed me. “Breathe slower. You’re all right. I’ve got you. In through the nose. Out through the mouth.” My face was pressed sidelong into the center of his chest, and I was too close to open my mouth wide, held too tight to fill my lungs, but I didn’t flail or fight for breath. I did as he said. In through the nose. So tight. Safe. Out through the mouth. And my breaths began to slow.

“Is this okay?” He squeezed his arms tighter for a second, to make it clear. I nodded against him.

Then I breathed in another long breath, my nose in his chest, the warm air filtering through the fabric of his T-shirt. This time the spinning slowed. Nearly to a stop. The nausea was gone. His arms were so tight. I was so completely wrapped up. Nothing could happen to me here.

After a long moment I put my head all the way back and blinked, my chin against his sternum, and looked up at him. But I didn’t step back. And he didn’t loosen his grip. Just looked down at me. I smiled a wobbly smile.

“Better?”

I nodded again.

“Good.”

He didn’t let go. I breathed deeply again, and with this breath, my senses returned. His body was so solid, so warm, his arms so strong. I inhaled the smell of him. That same smell from his sweater that had made me swoon—outdoors, sun, rugged indefinable things. Things that made my stomach flutter.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay,” he said.

And then, just like that, the vise grip around me loosened, and I was stepping back out of his arms.

We walked farther away from the edge after that. Eventually, he began to complain at me.

“Jesus, Maya. This is why you tell someone when you have a phobia” and “What else are ye keeping from me? Heart failure? Deadly nut allergy?” His accent seemed stronger now. “Goddamn reckless, is what it is.”

But the entire walk back. Every step of it. Well after I’d calmed. Well after my legs had stopped wobbling. All the way to the car. Even through his complaints and castigations. He held my hand tight in his.

Chapter 12 An Experiment in Sex Education

Maya: All right. Thank you both for joining us. I’m here today with Bill and Orla, who have been so incredibly generous that they’ve not only agreed to share their story with us, they’ve even offered—sight unseen!—for my driver and me to stay here, and cooked us an incredible dinner. Sweet holy crap, those mashed potatoes! Would you consider sharing the recipe on my website, Orla, or is it a closely guarded secret?

Orla: Ah, sure. It’s easy enough.

Maya: Aaamazing. This lady can cook! I see why you were in such a hurry to lock it down, Bill!

Orla: Well, he wasn’t in a hurry to “lock it down,” as you say. That’s the whole damn point, isn’t it?

Maya: Uh-oh, Bill. What happened?

Orla: I’ll tell you the truth of it. He’ll only tell you a story that makes himself look good.