Well, that explained how he was in such good shape. Derek couldn’t be any older than nineteen, but his arms were more muscular than any of the boys I’d ever ogled at the beach with Tara and Celine during the summer.

  “I might do that,” I replied, though I had no intention of following through. The very idea of donning a swimsuit in front of Derek Balfe had my nervous system going haywire.

  We fell into silence for a few minutes before we arrived at the supermarket. Derek got out first then walked around to open my door, and I came over a little breathless. No one had opened a car door for me in recent memory, and I was struck by the gentlemanly gesture.

  “Shall we?” Derek asked, motioning toward the shop entrance. I swallowed down my nerves and nodded. I was about to go grocery shopping accompanied by the hottest guy I’d ever spoken to. Now, if only I could concentrate on what I needed to purchase instead of being distracted by his ridiculously handsome face, that would be a great start.

  2.

  Derek

  Milly had no idea, but I’d been aware of her since we were kids. She saved me once, and I’d never forgotten. In my mind, she was the angel who’d come to my aid when I was a little boy and spiralling.

  It all happened one day at our primary school when my younger brother, Tristan, had fallen on the tarmac and badly scraped his knee, blood running all down his leg. Mam had drilled it into me that I needed to look out for my younger siblings, and I went into a panic because I knew I should’ve told Tristan not to run through the yard so fast. But he’d always been so full of energy and impossible to control.

  Tristan was sprawled out on the ground, crying and holding into his scraped knee, and I was about to go call for a teacher when a girl appeared. Her long, dark brown hair was tied in a neat ponytail, and her intelligent blue eyes matched the clear sky above us. The sun lit her up from behind, outlining her in bright, heavenly light like she was an angel who’d come down from on high. That day, she was my angel, my saving grace. From her satchel bag she produced a miniature first-aid kit, an eager expression on her face.

  “Let me see,” she said as she bent to inspect Tristan’s knee then sucked in a harsh breath. “Oh, that’s a bad one.” She proceeded to pull out various accoutrements to clean the wound, wiping away the blood before sealing it all up with a blue plaster dotted with yellow smiley faces. “I’m going to be a doctor when I grow up,” she’d announced confidently when she was done, pleased with her handiwork, and I pretty much fell in love right then and there. There was something about how sure of herself she’d been, how capable, that had my nine-year-old heart thumping that much harder. Her patching up Tristan’s wound also meant that Mam wasn’t going to chew me out for not looking after him that day.

  “Do you still want to be a doctor?” I asked randomly, dragging my mind back to the present. Milly and I walked through the dairy aisle at the supermarket, and I’d insisted on carrying the basket for her. She dropped a block of cheddar into it then peered up at me in surprise.

  “How do you know that?”

  A soft smile touched my lips. “You helped my brother when he scraped his knee in primary school one time. I don’t think I’d ever been more impressed by anyone when you produced a first-aid kit from your school bag.”

  “Oh, my goodness, I’d completely forgotten about that kit.” She cast me an embarrassed grin. “When I was eight, I asked for it as one of my birthday presents. I’d always been obsessed with making people better when they were sick or injured. I think I fancied myself the schoolyard medic that year. When my little sister, Donna, got an ear infection at age six, I insisted on being the one to administer her medication and eardrops each day. Then when she recovered, I pronounced her all better and said that she could thank Doctor Milly for her excellent care and medical treatment.” She chuckled.

  “That’s adorable.”

  Milly flushed before focusing on the selection in front of her, not looking at me as she continued, “Well, to answer your question, I do still want to study medicine, but I need to get enough points next year to qualify for the course. I might not make the cut.”

  “I’m sure you can achieve whatever you set your mind to,” I told her confidently.

  “Thanks,” she replied softly, and I found myself admiring her long, poker straight hair that hung in a river down her back. I’d never seen a girl with hair as long as Milly’s.

  “What is it?” she asked, noticing my attention as we turned into the next aisle.

  “Your hair,” I replied on instinct, my throat scratchy. I’d had a couple girlfriends over the years and had also slept with a few who weren’t my girlfriend, but I’d never felt nervous like this before. There was something about Milly. I wanted her approval. Every day as I drove by her walking home from school, I’d been seized with the urge to stop and offer her a lift. The only thing preventing me was the worry of coming across as a creep. Come take a ride in my car, pretty girl. Not a good look. Then yesterday’s unusually bad weather had offered me the perfect opportunity, and I’d snatched it with both hands.

  Now, I was awkwardly trying to compliment her hair and rapidly sliding back into creep territory.

  “My hair?” she questioned, eyebrows rising in curiosity.

  I cleared my throat. “It’s very long.”

  “Oh. Right, yeah.” She fingered the silky strands. “I only ever get it trimmed so it stays long. My Aunt Nell says I should get it cut shorter, that it would look much better that way, but I like it how it is.”

  “I like it, too. Your aunt doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

  That won me a smile as she continued walking along the aisle. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  A minute or two went by as Milly quietly shopped, and I played my role of basket carrier. When she was done, we approached the register and joined the queue.

  Okay, Derek, it’s now or never. Shoot your shot.

  “So,” I began, turning to her, my gaze travelling over her delicate profile and soft lips. “We’re having a party at my house tomorrow night. Want to come?”

  I watched her throat move as she swallowed and blinked up at me. “Oh. A party?”

  “Yeah, nothing too crazy. Just me, my siblings, and a couple of our friends. I’d love for you to be there.”

  She nodded, but then her brow crinkled. “I can’t. My parents are going out, so I have to stay in and watch my sisters.”

  “How old are they”

  “Twelve and fourteen,” Milly answered as she began unloading the items from the basket. Okay, so they were definitely too young for me to suggest bringing them along. Disappointment swept in.

  “Ah, well, maybe next time.”

  “Sure,” Milly replied, a faint flush staining her cheeks.

  For the next two months, that was how it went. Most days after school, I’d pick Milly up in my car, we’d spend a couple minutes chatting, and then I’d drop her off at her house. The best days were when she had to run some errand or other for her parents, and I got to drive her wherever she needed to go, prolonging our time together. We developed a comfort with one another, but oddly, every time I invited her to spend time with me outside of the daily drives, she had some excuse as to why she couldn’t go. Whether she had a big test to study for, a chore to do at home or babysitting her kid sisters, there was always something.

  Then, devastatingly, the school year ended, and I no longer had cause to run into her. I’d texted and invited her to several parties and hangouts at the beach, but like always, Milly was busy. I’d almost given up hope and decided I needed to face the facts; the girl just wasn’t interested in me. At the very worst, she might’ve been using me for the convenient car rides and nothing more. There was a line of others who would jump at the chance to go out with me, but I didn’t want them.

  I wanted Milly.

  She’d wheedled her way under my skin with her shy smiles, quiet intelligence and stunning blue eyes that I often found myself getting lost in. No other girl could compare. I mean, it wasn’t simply that she was pretty. There were lots of pretty girls in town. There was just something about Milly’s energy and presence that I craved. Being around her felt right somehow. It was like we instinctively understood each other without really needing to try. Perhaps it was because we were both the eldest in our families, and we both felt a similar responsibility to set a good example for our younger siblings.

  Ever since I could remember I’d had this need to protect Nuala and Tristan, to look out for them and make sure they were safe. I could tell Milly felt the same about her sisters, Jane and Donna.

  It was a couple weeks into summer when my friend Aidan announced he was having a big party at his house to celebrate his birthday. Aidan’s parties could get a little wild, but I decided this would be my last try with Milly. I’d invite her to the party, and if she said no, then that would be it. I’d leave her alone for good.

  But then the unexpected happened, and only a couple minutes after I texted her, I received a reply.

  Milly: Okay, that sounds like fun. What time should I meet you there?

  My heart raced. I couldn’t believe it. It took immense effort not to go overboard with my response as I forced myself to remain cool.

  Derek: I can pick you up at your house around eight?

  Milly: Great, see you then :-)

  I hopped in the shower immediately, and when I got out, my best friend, Rhys, was in my room playing on the game console. He was staying with us for a couple weeks over the summer. My dad had been the one to offer for him to stay, and the official story was that his house was undergoing renovations; however, I had a feeling the real reason was that there was something going on with his parents. Rhys’ father was a bit of a dickhead and could be very domineering with him, kicking him out of the house for the most minor offense.

  “Hey,” I said, heading for my closet to find something to wear.

  “Hey,” Rhys echoed, his attention fixed on the screen.

  I selected my best black shirt and dark navy jeans. Rhys arched an eyebrow when he saw me set them down on the bed.

  “Getting dressed up for the party?”

  I lifted my chin. “Milly’s coming.”

  Rhys chuckled low. “Ah, that explains it.” He was one of the few people I’d confided in about my crush on Milly, so he knew her coming to the party was a big deal.

  “You’re one to talk. You can barely keep your eyes off Charli whenever the two of you are in the same room.”

  My cousin from America, Charli, had come to stay with us for the summer. From the moment Rhys had laid eyes on her, I could tell he was smitten. I had a feeling Charli might like him back, but I was worried that once she headed home at the end of the summer, she’d leave Rhys heartbroken. He was my best friend, but he’d never been with a girl before. He also had a soft, open heart, and I didn’t want him to get hurt. Hell, maybe I should be heeding my own advice because how I felt for Milly was unlike how I’d felt for any girl. I wasn’t inexperienced like Rhys, but I felt just as in danger of getting my heart broken, especially considering how amped up I was to bring her to the party tonight.

  “Charli’s not interested in the likes of me,” Rhys responded dismissively before focusing back on the game.

  I didn’t bother contradicting him even though he was dead wrong. It was better for the lad if he kept believing she wasn’t into him. Less trouble in the long run. “I need to go pick Milly up from her house, but Tristan will be leaving to head over to Aidan’s in a little while.”

  “Cool, I’ll go with him,” Rhys said, and I went to get dressed.

  By the time I parked outside Milly’s house, I feared I’d put on too much cologne and hastily tried rubbing some off with a couple napkins from the glovebox while also lowering the driver’s side window to air the space out. Once I was satisfied the car didn’t smell like the Giorgio Armani counter in some fancy department store, I climbed out and walked up to the front door before lifting the knocker. A moment later, the door swung open, revealing a girl who was the spitting image of Milly, except she was several years younger with much shorter hair.

  She took me in from top to toe with a mischievous smile on her face and then folded her arms.

  “And you are?”

  “Hi. I’m Derek Balfe. I’m here to pick up your sister.”

  The girl’s eyes bugged. “Milly? Really?”

  I grinned. “Yes, really.”

  At this, she turned and bolted up the stairs. “Milly! There’s a hot boy at the door for you!” My grin transformed into a smirk. At least I’d passed her little sister’s inspection.

  “Jane! No shouting please!” came a male voice, ironically shouting, too, before Milly’s dad, Ryan O’Shea, appeared at the door. He was walking with crutches, a large cast covering most of his left leg. Milly had mentioned that he’d fallen off a ladder while trying to clear the gutters on their roof and broke his femur while also suffering a fractured tibia. When he was being treated at the hospital, he’d contracted MRSA, further lengthening his recovery time. It meant he was out of work, and given he was self-employed, it had put financial strain on the family. Milly’s mam, who worked at the local florist, had to take on a second job waiting tables at night.

  It was one of the reasons I really wanted Milly to come to the party tonight. She’d spent most of her summer so far taking care of her sisters and father, and she deserved a night off. Her dad looked to be around the same age as mine, in his late forties or early fifties, with greyish dark brown hair and blue eyes like his daughters. When he clapped his gaze on me, his thick, bushy brows immediately drew together in suspicion.

  “And you are?”

  I almost chuckled at how he addressed me the exact same way Jane had, only with a much more suspicious tone.

  “Derek Balfe, sir,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’m here for Milly.”

  The man stared at my hand, frowned, then reluctantly let go of one of the crutches and shook it. “Milly never said she was going anywhere.”

  “We’re attending a friend’s birthday party. It’s at the Finnegan house. You might know it?”

  “Yes, I—”

  Before he could finish, Milly came rushing down the stairs, her little sister hot on her heels. Her long hair fell over one shoulder as she pulled a burgundy-coloured cardigan on over her silky cream camisole, which was paired with a loose black skirt. It was a conservative outfit, given what I knew most of the girls attending Aidan’s party would be wearing, but she still looked stunningly beautiful, and I had to work to catch my breath.

  “Dad, this is my friend, Derek,” she hurried to say. “We were just going—”

  “To a birthday party, yes. I’ve already been informed,” her dad said, those thick brows not letting up with their frowning.

  Milly stared at her father, her throat bobbing on a swallow as she awaited his approval. He looked to me once more then back to his daughter before exhaling a long breath and muttering something to himself that sounded a lot like, “Was going to happen sooner or later.”

  At last, he told Milly, “Right, well, off you go, then. Don’t stay out too late.”

  “I’ll have her home before midnight, sir,” I said.

  Her little sister squeezed her arm giddily, and I had to suppress a smile as Milly shot her a look that said, Calm down already, before she grabbed her phone from the entry table and stepped outside to join me.

  I made sure not to touch her because her dad was still watching us from the house, but I did go around the passenger side of my car to open the door for her.

  “I’m sorry about them,” she said as she lowered into the seat. I went around the other side and climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “No need to be sorry.”

  “Yes, there is. Jane can be a little over the top about, well, boys, and I’m pretty sure my dad thought I wasn’t going to go out with anyone until I turned at least twenty-seven.”

  I chuckled. “Well, it would be a crying shame if you waited that long.” There was a pause as I pulled away from the kerb. “So, is that what we’re doing? Going out?” I tried to sound casual while being way too fucking hopeful.

  When I chanced a peek at her, she seemed to be internally spiralling, her blue eyes wide and panicked like she’d misspoken. I briefly placed my hand on her knee, my voice warm. “Relax, Milly. Tonight can be whatever you want it to be. I’m just glad you agreed to come. I’ve been wondering if maybe I smell bad or something because you’ve declined every invite since I started giving you lifts.”

  “You don’t smell bad,” she blurted, her expression horrified. “Oh, my God, is that what you thought?”

  I chuckled low. “Well, I had wondered why you always said no to everything.”

  “You smell wonderful, Derek,” she told me effusively then flushed when I grinned wide. “I just mean … um …” she trailed off, visibly flustered, then finally continued, “My declining your invites doesn’t have anything to do with you at all. It’s me. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m a little introverted. Parties are somewhat terrifying for me.”

  I was still hung up on her saying I smelled wonderful. Some unexplored primal part of my brain enjoyed the idea of her liking how I smelled. When I comprehended the other part of what she said, everything inside me melted.

  “Do you mean to tell me you’ve been declining my invitations because you’re scared of parties?” I mean, I knew she was shy, but I didn’t think it was that bad. I was obviously relieved her reasons weren’t to do with not liking me, but at the same time, I felt for her. To be so introverted that you’d prefer to miss out on a fun party was a foreign concept to me. I wasn’t as outgoing as my brother, Tristan, but I’d always taken social situations in stride. The fact that she’d overcome her anxiety and decided to come tonight had a burst of pride filling my chest because she was going outside of her comfort zone to spend time with me.

  Milly nodded, worrying her lip before she replied, “Pretty much. I mean, my friends, Tara and Celine, aren’t the party going types either, so I don’t really get invited to stuff like that. And you and your friends, you’re, like, the popular kids in town. It’s intimidating.”