Page 94 of Alfie: Part One
Emilia pouted up at her husband.
Finnegan chuckled. “Quit it. I’ll play in a bit.”
Emilia was about to respond when the music started with a recording of an Irish flute. The whistle they’d been talking about? I’d heard of tin whistles.
A beat later, the drummer started, followed by Colm on vocals, and his voice was…rough.
Within twenty or so seconds, the pub exploded with energy as the rapid beat of the music tore through the establishment. Alfie and Kellan were immediately sucked into the atmosphere and evidently knew the lyrics. They shouted every word along with the others, jumped around, and slammed their fists in the air. I swallowed hard and exhaled unsteadily, seeing a man I’d never met before.
I’d thought Alfie was a wild spirit back in LA when he’d been so honest and… Well, he’d never hesitated to give me the dirtiest suggestions in the most inappropriate situations, but this was so different. He was having fun with peers now. He had friends, he had a place in which he wasn’t alone, and?—
I noticed Shan moving closer, and he leaned in. “He fits right in.”
I swallowed.
Yeah. Alfie fit in here.
Where did that leave me?
I tilted my head at Shan and spoke loud enough for him to hear. “You don’t want to throw yourself in the pit?”
He laughed and grabbed a beer from the table. “I don’t think so—but I enjoy watching.” He tipped the bottle toward Kellan and Alfie. “When Kellan’s nursing his hangover in the morning, I’ll play a round of golf before I come home with breakfast.”
I stood a little straighter and automatically managed to tune out the music at least a little.
“You play?”
He smirked faintly and inclined his head. “Alfie told me you do too.”
“I do. So, as you can see, this isn’t my world,” I chuckled.
He smiled and clapped a hand on my back. “You can belong to more than one world, West.”
Could I?
And for what reason? My goal—Alfie’s too—was for us to find common ground to be friends. We both wanted to bury the hatchet so we could spend time together with our children without them picking up on hostility between us. I didn’t need to attend parties with Alfie for that. Tonight was most likely a fluke. An olive branch. He wanted me to see this so I would gain an ounce of understanding about the people he now referred to as family.
Shan moved on to his son and daughter-in-law, and I spent the next twenty minutes listening to Irish punk rock and watching Alfie come alive. When Colm left the stage, someone else took over.
I stopped drinking.
I’d had three beers and two shots, and nothing was happening. It wasn’t my night. I felt warm and somewhat at ease, but I wasn’t feeling that intoxication I’d aimed for. So I stuck to water, and I started doing the math. Could I drive in a few hours? I wasn’t sure. Perhaps if I ate something…
“It’s time!” the guy onstage declared. “Who will answer Ireland’s call?!”
“The Sons of Munster!” the crowd roared.
Jesus Christ.
Emilia cheered and exchanged a hard kiss with Finnegan before he made his way to the stage.
Liam and someone I didn’t recognize followed, and fuck me if Alfie didn’t too. He was getting up there with the others.
“This is gonna be amazing!” Emilia gushed.
Maybe I shouldn’t have stopped drinking?
Oh, fuck it.