Zander

Zander woke early. He’d had a piss poor night of sleep and was tired of tossing and turning. He couldn’t get Megan out of his head. Having her sleeping just a few doors down from his was proving a near impossible temptation. Twice he’d had to talk himself down from going to her last night.

He honestly didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. Zander never had women troubles. Mostly because ye never let them in, ye wanker, his subconscious chastised. “And whose fault is that?” Zander muttered to himself.

He dressed quickly and laced up his trainers, knowing a run was the only way to set his head straight. He whistled for Eggsy. Zander heard the hound whining from inside Devon and Sam’s room and quickly let him out, slinking into the inky darkness that preceded the dawn.

* * *

Zander’s knee was killing him, but he pressed himself harder. He had a killer day ahead of him and he’d never survive it if he didn’t exercise some of his demons. His damn knee would have to wait. Zander had been putting off surgery for months after aggravating an old football injury when he was messing about with some blokes from the Shamrock Rover’s football club. He’d been invited to play in their charity exhibition game last month and had gone a bit too hard.

His doctor recommended surgery to repair the damage, but Zander didn’t have the time to be laid up with knee surgery. Cor-Tec kept him too busy. And he’d assured his doctor he would do the necessary physical therapy to strengthen his stability. Normally he did, but sometimes life got in the way. Sometimes he had to just run through the pain and deal with it. But that was life, wasn’t it? Pushing past the pain only made you stronger.

Zander had learned quickly that he preferred not to rely on others for help.

He blamed his rocky upbringing for that character flaw. He knew he shouldn’t continue to place the blame on others, but he couldn’t help it. Zander hadn’t ever had a solid relationship that he could count on. His mother had died when he was a child, his father had abandoned him shortly after, and Sophie, the last girl Zander had truly loved, had only been using him to get to Devon.

So it wasn’t any wonder why Megan was throwing him for a loop. He’d foolishly let her in, thinking she was too far away to ever hurt him. But now that she was here he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to keep her here. And Zander hated how weak that thought made him feel, because he knew he couldn’t keep her. She’d go back to Boston at the end of the semester—and where would that leave him?

Zander was beginning to think maybe he’d been a fool to bring Megan to Ireland at all. He could handle pain, but he wasn’t a masochist. Even he had a breaking point. And Zander had a feeling he’d soon reach it.

Megan

Megan slept better than she’d expected considering her Jäger-jet lag hangover. When she woke she had to pinch herself. She was actually in Ireland, living in what she could only describe as a castle. And best of all . . . she’d kissed Zander!

She practically floated out into the hall, where she promptly tripped over a massive furry rug.

“Shit,” Megan muttered, realizing the rug was actually Eggsy. “What are you doing out here?” she asked the moping wolfhound sprawled outside of Sam and Devon’s room.

Eggsy bayed woefully and Megan knelt down to scratch his scruffy face. “You’re just pitiful, aren’t you?” she crooned.

Megan loved dogs. All animals really. She’d always wanted to have a pet but growing up barely able to make ends meet never afforded her the opportunity to have one. So she was excited for the opportunity to play with Eggsy for an entire semester. Devon had told her so many stories about his beloved dog that she felt like she knew him already.

“So, where is everyone?” Megan asked.

Eggsy sprang to his feet, tail wagging.

“Do you understand me?” she asked feeling an equally measure of foolishness and excitement.

The dog barked and scratched at the door.

“Still sleeping, huh?” Megan knocked loudly on Sam and Devon’s door and Eggsy joined her in the racket-making by howling.

A few seconds later Devon appeared at the door, brown hair rumpled, face scruffy. “Megs and Eggs! Morning, mates.” He scratched Eggsy’s head. “How’d ye get out here, Eggsy?”

“I found him whining in front of your door.”

“Poor fella,” Devon crooned, hugging the lanky dog.

“You didn’t kick him out?” Megan asked.

“Never,” Devon replied, looking appalled at the accusation. He turned his head back into the bedroom, seeking out Sam who was still face-down under the covers.

Megan could see the wheels turning in Devon’s mind. He was wondering if Sam was the culprit who kicked out his darling hound. Sam and Eggsy hadn’t gotten along from when they first met, but Devon told Megan they’d come a long way since then.

“Give me a moment,” Devon said, shutting Eggsy and Megan in the hallway.

The dog looked up at Megan with his sad chocolate brown eyes.

Megan just shrugged.

Devon returned wearing a Red Sox hoodie, track pants and slippers. He grinned at Megan. “Ready for a traditional Irish breakfast?”

“You know it!”

Megan followed Devon down the sunlit halls of the medieval estate to what could only be described as a grand dining hall. Or course Devon called it the breakfast parlor.

“What a ridiculous name. This place should be called the mess hall. There’s enough food here to feed an army.”

Devon laughed taking in the overflowing spread on the serving buffet. “It does seem they’ve gone a bit overboard.”

“Are we expecting company?” Megan asked looking down at her fuzzy pajama pants.

Devon shrugged. “I thought it was just the four of us.”

“Actually, just the three,” Thornton said appearing behind Megan, making her jump.

“Shit!” she hissed. “A little warning!”

“Sorry, Miss.” Thornton pulled out a chair for Megan and pointed to one for Devon. Once they were seated he said, “I’m afraid Master O’Leary has already retired to his office. But please do help yourself to breakfast. He was sure to have traditional American fare prepared as well to suit all of our guests.”

“Well Sam will be happy,” Devon replied.

Disappointment flooded Megan. “So Zander’s not joining us?”

“I’m afraid not, Miss.”

“Megan,” she corrected.

Thornton nodded. “Master O’Leary rarely eats breakfast, especially after a run.”

Devon perked up. “Did he take Eggsy running with him this morning?”

“Indeed.”

“Mystery solved,” Devon replied, pouring himself a steaming cup of tea.

Thornton excused himself and Megan lost herself in the endless sea of breakfast foods.

“Oh my God! There’s even Nerds!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe Zander remembered those are my favorite.”

“Of course he did. Yer a sugar-obsessed movie nerd. The candy is practically yer anthem.”

“A match made in heaven,” Megan said, dumping a pile of the tart candy into her mouth.

Devon shivered. “I’ll never understand how ye can eat candy for breakfast.”

“Breakfast of champions,” Megan sang merrily.

“How ‘bout an Irish breakfast of champions?”

Devon was delighted to pile Megan’s plate with bangers, rashers, poached eggs, black pudding, boiled potatoes, brown soda bread, baked beans and fried tomatoes.

“This is delicious, but there’s no way this much grease is good for you,” she moaned after only sampling small portions of the various items on her plate.

“It’s definitely not,” Devon replied stuffing his mouth full of the crusty brown bread he’d used to sop up his beans and runny eggs.

Megan wrinkled her nose in disgust, but broke into laughter when she saw a massive grin crack Devon’s face after he’d finished clearing his plate. He groaned and patted his flat stomach.

“It’s good to see you in your element,” she said.

“It’s good to be in it,” Devon replied stretching back on the hind legs of his chair. “I can’t believe Sam’s missing this.”

Megan snorted. “Sam hates this kind of food.”

“But Zander even got her favorites. Pop-Tarts and coffee.”

“I noticed,” Megan replied.

She hadn’t realized how much Zander felt he needed to impress Sam. Megan had assumed they were on good terms. They’d had a bit of a rocky start, but that was ages ago, plus Zander was practically family now that Sam and Devon were so serious. Megan couldn’t think of any reason Sam would have to dislike Zander, unless of course he happened to break Megan’s heart. But that was Megan’s problem to worry about.

“Well I guess I’d better make my sleeping beauty a breakfast plate,” Devon said, popping up from his chair.

“Is Sam doing okay?” Megan asked.

“Of course, ye know our girl. She’s never been much for mornings.”

“No, I know that. I mean, she just seems really stressed.”

Devon sighed. “It’s just Uni, I think. The double major’s taking its toll.”

“You think that’s all it is?” Megan asked.

“What else would it be?”

Megan chewed her lip.

“Megs, don’t worry about Sam, she’ll rally. She just likes to push herself to be the best.”

“I know,” Megan muttered.

Devon was right. Sam had always been that way—great grades, great athlete, popular, perfect. Maybe it really was just school, but Megan couldn’t help thinking about the conversation she’d overheard last night.

“I just don’t want to add any extra stress having her worry about me and Zander.”

Devon laughed. “Believe me, I’ve tried to tell her that, but telling that bloody woman not to worry is like telling a bird not to fly.”

Megan sighed, knowing he was right, and if Devon wasn’t worried than she’d let it go.

“So what’ve ye got planned today, Megs?”

“Shopping with Zander. He said he wants to take me to Dublin to pick out a dress for the gala!”

“Grand! Just don’t let Zander turn ye posh on us.”

Megan laughed. “Not possible.” She considered herself about as posh as a pocket protector. “What about you? Any plans?”

“Me and Sam are gonna knock the ball around the pitch a bit with Eggsy.”

Megan grinned. “Great idea.” Nothing put Sam in a better mood than soccer.

“Well I’d better get my girl some coffee before she sleeps the day away. Have a grand time in Dublin, Megs.”

“Thanks.”

As Megan watched Devon walk down the hall whistling a merry tune she felt a grin tug at her lips. Devon certainly was a wonderful boyfriend and Megan was glad her best friend had found such an amazing guy. Megan wanted to find that too—that person who made her happy just to bring them breakfast in bed. Suddenly Megan wondered if maybe she should take Zander something to eat. “Wait, Dev. Where’s Zander’s office?”

Devon turned around and pointed up. “Second floor. West wing.”

Megan gave him a lost look.

“Thornton will take ye,” he called back.

“How may I help you, Miss?”

Megan jumped. The butler had magically materialized again. “Seriously, do you just appear when you hear your name? How many of you are there?” she joked.

“Just the one, I’m afraid. May I be of service?”

“Yes, I wanted to bring Zander some breakfast. Can you show me where his office is?”

Thornton looked uncomfortable. “Master O’Leary is rather busy today.”

“Precisely why he could use some coffee and donuts,” Megan said giving Thornton a winning smile as she slipped back into the parlor to load up a plate with donuts.

Thornton followed after her. “I’m afraid Master O’Leary doesn’t allow visitors in his office, Miss.”

Megan put her hands on her hips. “Well it’s a good thing I’m not a visitor, Thornton. And please, for the love of magic, stop being so formal. I’m going to be living here. Just Megan, okay? And no more Master O’Leary when it’s just us. You’re gonna give him a bigger head than the one I saw plastered all over the billboards on the way here.”

Thornton looked uneasy about the idea but he hid it with a well-practiced smile. “As you wish, Mis-Megan.”

“Good,” she replied stirring three heaping teaspoons of sugar into her signature latte. Devon called it a Mega-spresso, because the sugar and caffeine always made him jittery, but she knew Zander would love it since he’d confessed his addiction to anything sugary and delicious—another reason they were perfect for each other.

“So which way to Zander’s office?” Megan asked when she was satisfied with her sugary selection of breakfast treats.

Thornton begrudgingly led her through the immaculate labyrinth of halls to the west wing. The journey took longer than it should have because Megan couldn’t help stopping to admire the views and ostentatious trinkets that lined every nook and cranny. The James’ Estate was a history geek’s paradise, and Megan considered herself a geek on all levels. She was dying to see the library, but she wanted to wait for Zander to give her a personal tour.

Thornton cleared his throat when Megan stopped to gaze at yet another oil painting of some sprawling Irish landscape. “I hate to rush you, but your car will be arriving within the hour.”

“My car?”

“Zander has arranged for car service to take you to Brown Thomas on your shopping outing today.”

Megan frowned, not liking Thornton’s vague phrasing. “And does my car come with Zander in it?”

“I’m afraid his schedule doesn’t allow for it today.”

Since when? Megan wondered. Before she could ask, Thornton gestured to a set of polished mahogany double doors. “Zander’s office.”

She stepped forward ready to open the door but Thornton stepped in front of her. “I should announce you first.”

Megan waved him off. “I can announce myself.”

Thornton gave her a nervous look.

“Don’t worry so much, Thornton. I’ve been in here before.”

The butler raised his thin white eyebrows.

“On our video chats,” she explained.

Thornton still looked wary, but Megan ignored him and turned the doorknob.