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Chapter 92

O’Connelly’s pub on Jefferson was trimmed in green and teaming with a loud, rowdy, inebriated crowd who were all claiming to be “Irish” on this particular Friday. A short Asian man walked by with a huge “Kiss Me, I’m Irish” pin blinking like a beacon on his chest, and, noticing him, Claire couldn’t help but giggle. She elbowed Jamie in the ribs to point him out and laughed harder as Jamie stumbled uncoordinatedly, sloshing green-colored beer all down the front of his kelly green t-shirt, which also read, “Kiss me, I’m Irish” in big bold letters. The only difference was, he really was. But hell, everyone was Irish on St. Patrick’s Day.

“’Djou want somethin’?” Jamie asked with a slight slur, tilting his head down to Claire’s level about ten seconds too late. The Asian guy was already long gone, having disappeared in the crowd.

“Never mind,” she replied, struggling to make her voice heard above the clamor of the boisterous crowd and the live Irish folk band playing in the corner.

“You havin’ fun?” he called, flashing a lopsided grin.

“Hell yeah!” she shouted back, raising her pint glass. Jamie clinked his against hers in a toast, sloshing more beer over the edge, and took a deep swallow. Claire tipped her glass back as well, grimacing as the beer hit her throat. She was reaching the bottom, and it had started to get warm. She swallowed, then took a few breaths to clear her head before throwing the rest down. Tapping Jamie on the shoulder, she pointed to her empty glass and said, “I’m gonna get another one!”

He nodded, and she walked by him, slowly carving a path to the crowded bar. The bartenders were all wearing green polo shirts and shiny Mardi-Gras beads. Some of the girls had springy shamrock antennas on their heads, and one of the guys had dyed his spiky hair acid green. “You been helped?” he asked quickly, pointing to her as she worked her way up to the long, wooden bar counter.

“A pint of Guinness, please,” she called out her order, and he nodded, grabbing a fresh pint glass and moving to the tap.

Claire bobbed her head in time to the festive music she waited. She was pleased to find that she was having fun. It had been a long time since she’d gone out drinking like this, and even longer since she’d gone with Jamie. They hadn’t spent St. Patrick’s Day together in years, though in high school, it had been their holiday, whether that meant pinching Dianna for not wearing green, ditching school to hang out downtown and watch the annual parade, or getting buzzed off of the Bailey’s Irish Cream they’d smuggled out of his clueless parents’ fridge.

The last time she remembered celebrating the St. Patty’s day with Jamie was in college, their sophomore year. It had fallen on a Friday, just like this year, and Jamie had come home for the weekend and partied with her at UT. They hadn’t been old enough to drink in the bars like this yet, but they’d had no trouble finding booze and a wild crowd elsewhere. It had been a fun night, despite the fact that it had ended with Claire rubbing Jamie’s back as he knelt over a toilet on her dorm floor, puking his guts out. The boy liked to drink, but he’d always had a horrible tolerance for alcohol. She wondered if it had improved at all over the years and realized she didn’t know. She hadn’t seen Jamie as wasted as he had been that night since. In fact, that had probably been the last good time she’d had with him before she got leukemia and everything changed. She’d spent the next two years just trying to get her life back, as his went on without her. Then he’d moved back north, and that was that.

She had to admit, though he acted like an asshole some of the time, she was glad to have him back.

The neon-haired bartender slid her drink across the counter to her, and she handed him a few bills in return. Inwardly, she cringed at how rapidly her wallet was thinning, but she reminded herself that this was a rarity, and besides, it was St. Patty’s Day. She was already pretty buzzed anyway; she’d cut herself off after the next one. Pocketing the change the bartender dropped into her hand, she held her drink high and wove her way carefully through the crowd, trying not to spill it.

“Ew, how can you drink that swill?” asked Jamie the moment she found her way back to him, turning up his nose at the black Irish beer.

“Cause I’m not a little pansy-boy like you,” she shot back and took a rich swallow of the thick brew, heavy with white foam. It was nice and cold, and she enjoyed the feel of it sliding smoothly down her throat. It briefly cooled her warm body from the inside out, but as the alcohol hit her system, she felt hot all over again. The bar was stuffy, and she could feel herself starting to sweat. Still, she felt good. Better than good, in fact, great. The beers had worked their magic on her, making her feel lose and relaxed and giddy. “We should dance,” she announced loudly to Jamie and held up her drink, “when I’m done with this.”

“Okay,” he replied, nodding as he watched her in amusement.

Catching his expression, she cocked her head at him and asked indignantly, “What?? I’m not that drunk; I just feel like dancing!”

“Okay,” he said again, and this time she could hear the laughter in his voice. Rolling her eyes, she gave him a playful thwack with her cast and took another drink.

By the time she’d gotten down to the sediment at the bottom of her Guinness, she could feel her coordination fading fast, but no matter. Discarding the near-empty pint glass, she grabbed Jamie’s hand and dragged him to the open area in front of the small stage where the band had been set up. They’d left by now, and the listening area had been turned into a makeshift dance floor, filled with even less-coordinated people who were flailing around wildly to the rock music that blared in the band’s absence.

“Ahh, I love this song!” Claire squealed as Meatloaf’s “Paradise By the Dashboard Lights” started playing. The song had been around since before she was born, but she’d grown up listening to it and all the other classic rock songs her parents liked. A general murmur of approval seemed to swell through the crowd, most of whom were older than her, and the dancing grew even faster and sillier.

Eager to join in, she pulled Jamie in further and started boogieing in time to the upbeat music, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she threw her body from side to side. She held on to Jamie’s hand, encouraging him to join her, and within a few seconds, he’d found her groove and matched his body’s movements to hers.

Grinning at him beneath the dim green lights, she started singing along. “Well I remember every little thing as if it happened only yesterday… parking by the lake and there was not another car in sight…”

Jamie mouthed along, his deep voice drowned out by the volume of the music and the other people chanting around them. “And I never had a girl looking any better than you did… and all the kids at school, they were wishing they were me that night…”

“And now our bodies are oh so close and tight
It never felt so good, it never felt so right
And we’re glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife
Glowing like the metal on the edge of a knife
C’mon, hold on tight… c’mon, hold on tight!”

As the music swelled and slowed, Claire moved closer to Jamie, throwing her head back as she lip-synced melodramatically, “Though it’s cold and lonely in the deep dark night… I can see paradise by the dashboard lights…” She eased back, then shimmied closer as the music picked back up again, her eyes locked with Jamie’s as she sang the girl’s part. “Ain’t no doubt about it, we were doubly blessed… cause we were barely seventeen and we were barely dressed…”

Jamie’s eyes were fixed on hers as well, and they shone with intensity above the gentle smirk on his lips.

“Baby, don’tcha hear my heart, you got it drowning out the radio
I’ve been waiting so long for you to come along and have some fun
And I gotta let you know, no you’re never gonna regret it
So open up your eyes, I got a big surprise, it’ll feel alright
Well I wanna make your motor run…”

The back and forth lip-syncing continued as the song went on, and after awhile, Claire forgot about all of the other people dancing around her. For her, there was only the blast of the music, the race of her pulse, and the look on Jamie’s face. He never broke his gaze with her, nor she him. In the back of her mind, she was aware of this, but it wasn’t weird or intimidating at all. It all felt so comfortable, dancing with him like a spaz, being silly and overly dramatic as they did their own improvised karaoke routine in the middle of the dance floor, their voices heard by no one. She had visions of them acting the same way at their senior prom, doing the hand jive to the Grease “Mega-Mix” that had been popular that year.

“We’re gonna go all the way tonight, gonna go all the way tonight, tonight; We’re gonna go all the way tonight, gonna go all the way tonight, tonight,” they chanted together, and Claire broke into giggles, her body sagging against Jamie’s as she laughed. His strong arm came around her, holding her up as she swayed slightly. She got her bearings, but didn’t back away, grinding her body against his instead through the “baseball commentary” interlude of the song.

Her hand drifted from his shoulder down to his chest, and she trailed her fingers across his pec suggestively. Then, at the right moment, she gave him a theatrical shove, singing along with the girl on the song, “Stop right there! I gotta know right now… before we go any further…

“Do you love me, will you love me forever?
Do you need me, will you never leave me?
Will you make me so happy for the rest of my life?
Will you take me away, will you make me your wife?
I gotta know right now… before we go any further
Do you love me, will you love me forever?”

Jamie pulled her back up against him, so close that she had to tilt her head back to see his face. Rocking her back and forth in time to the music, he gazed down at her as he sang the response. “Let me sleep on it… baby, baby, let me sleep on it… let me sleep on it, I’ll give you an answer in the morning…”

Back and forth they went, their bodies grinding close together as the intensity built.

“… So now I’m praying for the end of time
To hurry up and arrive
Cause if I gotta spend another moment with you
I don’t think that I can really survive
I’ll never break my promise or forget my vow
But God only knows what I can do right now…”

“It was long ago, and it was far away, and it was so much better than it is today,” Jamie chanted as the music began to fade. The lyrics struck a chord in Claire’s bleary mind, and for a few moments, she let Jamie guide her movements distractedly, forgetting to come in with her own part.

The song cut short as the intro to an eighties rock song began, and Claire stumbled backwards, breathless. She glanced down briefly as she found her center of balance, then looked back up, catching Jamie’s eyes. They were bright against his flushed skin, making them appear even more intense. She felt her breath catch in her throat as she gazed back at him, spellbound. Her head was spinning, and she wasn’t sure if it was all the beer catching up to her, or… something else.

The skin on her neck tingled as Jamie leaned close to her, his chin swooping near that area, where goosebumps had risen. “Wanna take a breather?” he asked, his low voice rumbling in her ear. She could feel his warm breath on her skin, and the tingling sensation intensified.

“Sure,” she replied shakily and let him take her hand and lead her back to the bar.

“Two Bud Lights,” he placed his order with the bartender and then moved to stand behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders as they waited for the drinks. When the bartender slid two open bottles across the counter, Jamie stepped around Claire and paid him for both, then handed her one of them.

In the back of her mind, she knew she shouldn’t keep drinking, but she was overheated from dancing, her throat dry from singing, and she couldn’t resist the cold beer in her hands. “Thanks,” she told Jamie and took a long, slow swallow, savoring the refreshingly cool liquid as it slid effortlessly down her throat.

“Let’s go sit down,” he suggested, and Claire nodded gratefully; her legs had started to feel sort of rubbery. Putting his hand on the small of her back, Jamie guided her through the crowds to the smattering of tables against the walls. But, looking around in dismay, they both saw that all of the tables were occupied, every chair full. They moved to a spot against the wall instead, where Claire leaned, taking another sip of beer.

“You still havin’ a good time?” asked Jamie, drawing near her again to make his voice heard above the background noise.

“Yeah,” she smiled. Gesturing to the people still dancing, she added, “That was fun.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Reminded me of back in the good old days… if only they’d played the Grease song.” Flashing a cheesy grin, he did the hand jive with one hand, his beer bottle jostling precariously in the other.

Claire beamed, amazed that he had remembered that too. “You’re the one that I want,” she sang teasingly, off-key, “You-hoo-hoo, honey!”

Jamie sang the “Honey!” too, impishly jutting his face forward towards hers like John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John in the movie. Her giggle was smothered when he went a step further, capturing her lips in an impulsive kiss.

Before Claire fully comprehended what had just happened, it was already over, and Jamie was pulling away, watching her cautiously. The expression on his face was that of a little boy, caught with his hand in the cookie jar, as if he were waiting for her to get angry at him. But she was too stunned to be mad, and by the time that it occurred to her that perhaps she should get mad, she couldn’t. Not with the way her lips were suddenly tingling, sending pleasant little shivers through her entire body.

Oh my… she thought, staring at Jamie through wide eyes. The opening lyrics of the song they’d just been singing played through her head, eerily perfect. I got chills… they’re multiplying… and I’m losin’ control…

Mistaking her stunned look for one of indignation, Jamie gave her a sheepish smile and said, in a small voice she could barely hear, “I’m sorry.” Trying to look sorry, he stuck out his bottom lip, forming the pouty look he’d perfected. Then, as if he felt the need to justify himself, he added, “I-I didn’t mean to… I couldn’t help it. You looked so kissable,” he offered, shrugging, and smiled hopefully.

Claire finally found her voice, though it was noticeably higher pitched than usual. “Can we go outside?” she asked weakly, feeling a strong desire to get out of the stuffy club all of a sudden. She desperately needed to clear her head.

“Sure,” said Jamie with a shrug. He took one last swig of his beer before abandoning the bottle, and she did the same, leading the way towards the open door of the bar. It took awhile to find ‘fresh’ air; the sidewalk outside the pub was just as crowded as the space inside, with drunken men and women in green, most of them smoking. Coughing, Claire hurried Jamie through the ashy haze and away from the crowds.

“There’s a park up here,” Jamie said, gesturing up the street a ways. “Wanna go there and… talk?”

“Yeah,” Claire answered breathily, concentrating on simply walking properly, without weaving or stumbling. Those last few shots of beer had gone straight to her head, which felt fuzzy from the alcohol and fried from the spark of a kiss Jamie had zapped her with. Oh my God, he really did just kiss me, didn’t he? her intoxicated mind marveled. She let out a giggle.

Jamie turned to look at her, his concerned expression morphing into one of amusement. “What’s so funny?”

She just shook her head; she’d wait until she was sitting down. When they reached the park, she let Jamie take her hand and lead her carefully through the soft grass to the nearest bench. She sank down upon it, grateful to get off her wobbly legs, and Jamie sat down next to her, putting his hand on her back. “Are you alright?” he asked, with the same hint of amusement in his voice.

“Yes… no thanks to you. I think you got me drunk, James Thomas,” she accused, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Hey, I drank more than you!” he laughed.

“Well, you’re bigger than me,” she huffed. She tried to cross her arms and was momentarily confused when her right hand thwacked against something hard. Then she remembered her left arm was already bent and would stay so until her cast came off in a couple weeks. She scowled down at the meddling purple cast.

“Are you mad?” asked Jamie, peering over at her.

“No,” she answered easily and started giggling again. “No, I got myself drunk, didn’t I?” It was the only thing that was clear to her at the moment, as she felt herself growing steadily more and more trashed as her system absorbed the alcohol. Swinging her legs back and forth over the side of the bench, she decided she didn’t really care. She felt great! Better than great! Electrified!

“Just a little, sweetie,” Jamie said, patting her on the head like she was a child.

She swatted his hand away but forgot to get mad at him for patronizing her – there were more pressing matters at hand. “Did you kiss me?” she asked, blinking at him several times, until his face came into focus. God, he looked good, she realized. His face seemed to glow beneath the soft light of the streetlamps in the park, and she could just make out a few beads of sweat on his forehead, beneath a fringe of slightly damp, dark curls. She remembered the days of running her hands through those irresistible curls as he pleasured her with his kisses.

“Yes,” he answered softly. As her eyes dropped to his moving lips, she licked hers unconsciously, suddenly aware of a fire kindling deep within her, a fire that had hadn’t flickered in months.

Oh God, the realization hit her. Jamie… I want him.

Startled, her eyes flitted back up to his, absorbing their blueness. She’d always loved his eyes. They were beautiful. He was beautiful. “Jamie…” she murmured his name, closing her eyes briefly. When she opened them, he was still looking at her.

“Yes?” he asked with a smirk.

“Will you kiss me again?”

She had already started moving closer to him, moistening her lips, when she heard his flat response.

“No.”

She froze so suddenly, she nearly toppled over. Blinking, she cocked her head at him. “Why not??”

“Cause it’s your turn. Kiss me… I’m Irish.” He pointed out the words on his shirt with a cheeky grin, giggling. Claire started giggling too, though she wasn’t sure why it was so funny. Would she have still laughed if she hadn’t been drinking? Haha, she was drunk, wasn’t she?

“Quit laughin’, Clairie. You can’t kiss me if you’re laughin’,” said Jamie, but he was laughing himself. Claire only giggled more hysterically, eventually falling into him. He pried her off of him long enough to free his arm, which he then slipped around her, pulling her close.

“Mmm… you smell good,” she said loudly, sniffing him as she snuggled up against him. “Is that cologne?”

“Yep. Calvin Klein, Truth.”

“Truth…”

“Uh-huh. You wanna know the truth?”

“Truth?”

Jamie put his face close to hers, his lips brushing her earlobe as he whispered, “I really want you to kiss me now.”

Claire stopped giggling as her heart swelled, leaving her feeling sort of dizzy, but in a good way. She sat up straighter and turned to look at Jamie. He was gazing back at her, one of his dark brows arched in anticipation, his lips curved into that sexy little smirk of his. She licked her lips again and slipped her good arm around his neck, gently guiding his head down as she tipped her chin towards it.

When their lips met, her body began to tingle with pleasure again. This time it was not like lightning, quick and fleeting, but like the finale of a fireworks show… constant sparks that exploded and streaked through her body, taking her breath away. In her mind, she was eighteen again, young and carefree… happy and in love…

So in love…

Her soul was in ecstasy, as if an eight-year craving was finally being fulfilled. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed him, but now that she was in Jamie’s arms, her lips locked with his, she remembered what she had forced herself to forget for all these years. How warm he felt… how good he tasted… how amazing he made her feel, her heart fluttering, stomach somersaulting, serotonin coursing, goosebumps rising.

It was as if she were kissing him for the first time. Again.

But this time, they were both older, more experienced. The kiss wasn’t too wet or too dry, too light or too forceful, too short or too long. They ended it with breath to spare, but once she’d had a chance to inhale, she found his lips on hers again, kissing her hungrily.

She kissed back, caught up in her lust, too tipsy to realize the can of worms she was opening as she parted her lips against Jamie’s, letting his tongue slip into her mouth… letting him slip back into her heart.

***

Lyrics: “Paradise By the Dashboard Lights” by Meat Loaf, “You’re the One That I Want” performed by John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John