There was nothing venomous at all in his words, but my heart skipped nonetheless. He might well have been attempting banter, good fun, but that was certainly the last thing I wanted. I sat up next to Connie. I was facing away from him so that he couldn’t see my expression, but the fact that I was clutching at the bedsheets must have given her an indication as to how I was feeling. “Mr. O’Reilly. Hi.”

It had always amazed me how oblivious they were, the O’Reilly’s. There I was, in his daughter’s bed, naked from the waist down, and yet I was a complete stranger to him. A guest in her house more nights than not, lurking wherever Connie went and never wavering from her side.

I wondered if this man’s mind was even capable of conceiving of how much I yearned for the girl beside me on those nights apart. How I would lie in bed and think of her drawn-out kisses and her hands on me, and that dark and primitive gleam in her eyes when we were alone. I wondered if he could ever even come close to fathoming the way I would sometimes awake abruptly with that two-syllable name on my lips, tingling them. Stinging them. I wondered if he could see it, all the things that Connie couldn’t see—that I worshiped her with every bone in my body and all the parts that made me whole, even if I would never dare to say it aloud beyond the confines of my very own mind.

I wondered if maybe Mr. O’Reilly would be perceptible, or observant. Parents were supposed to be smart about those things. They were supposed to be tuned in. I waited with bated breath for the penny to drop and for him to announce sharply that most classified of information but he completely ignored me, focusing his eyes back on Connie. “I’m heading off to Paris for the week, Connie. Just wanted to pop in and say goodbye.”

I held back my sigh of relief.

“Paris? You only just got home the other night.”

“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair, shifting his weight to one foot and leaning back against the doorframe. “Something’s come up.”

“What about our tickets for the final?” she asked, her voice suddenly small. It was very rare indeed than any significant sporting events were held in Ireland, but for once Dublin had been chosen to host the EuroHockey Nations Championships. Connie had been elated when the event was first announced, but had mentioned it very little since then. I had imagined she had simply forgotten about it, or had grown not to care. “Will you be back by Saturday?”

Her father had the good sense to lower his gaze, his face reddening. “I’m afraid not, no.”

Next to me, Connie scoffed. “So what? Am I supposed to go with Emily, now?”

“No, er…Emily is actually coming with me to Paris. Visiting a friend she used to go to school with.” He smiled stiffly. “Bring one of your friends, hmm? I’m sure Alex would love to go.”