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somersault in her stomach and she felt sick.
    Declan noticed her discomfort and let go of her hand.
    “Tell me why you wanted to get drunk tonight, Keira. I’m a bartender, remember. It’s my job to listen to the customers,” he winked at her.
    “Is that right?” she laughed and thanked him for breaking that dangerous spell she had been under since he had taken her hand in his. “Well, let me see. Where should I start telling you about my tribulations?”
    Later, Keira would blame the beer for having opened up her heart so completely to Declan that night. The truth was, though, she felt comfortable talking to him like she had never felt with another man. She told him about her grandfather and her childhood dream of visiting Ireland. She talked about her hardworking days and how she had saved money for the trip. She found it harder to convey her expectations about the concert and the disappointment at its cancelation. That kind of feeling could only be understood by another fan. Preferably, one who had gone through something similar. Normal people didn’t get it.
    “But your trip is only beginning, isn’t it? You still have a couple of weeks ahead of you to enjoy yourself,” Declan said. He was definitely a normal person.
    “You don’t understand it,” she was feeling very sorry for herself, like any other drunkard. Her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve always wanted to watch a U2 concert in Dublin. Now, I can’t do that. I won’t watch a U2 concert in their hometown,” she whined and sniffed.
    “Please, don’t cry. I don’t know what to do around crying women,” Declan begged her.
    It was useless. Once the flood gates had opened there was no turning back. She crossed her arms on the counter, rested her forehead on them, and cried like a little girl. He looked at Màire and Harry in panic. They shrugged back at him.
    “What do I do?’ he mouthed.
    A few customers were looking at them as her sobs grew louder.
    “Take her upstairs,” Màire mouthed and gestured in reply.
    He rolled his eyes and took a deep breath.
    “Come, come, Keira. I know you like the guys, but missing one little concert doesn’t seem that bad,” he whispered, softly in her ear.
    That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, though, because she cried louder.
    “Ooh! That’s my favorite song,” she wailed and he looked at the ceiling as if in prayer. The woman was too drunk to make any sense. Then, she started singing out of key and he understood what she meant. “See you break away! La-la-la - to fade away! La-la-la - I’m not sleeping!”
    “All right, missy, time to go up to your room. This isn’t a karaoke bar,” he said as he walked around the counter, snaked an arm around her narrow waist and grabbed her arm, draping it over his own shoulders. “Up you go. That’s a good girl.”
    He looked at his colleagues and they shooed him away.
    “Go, go! We’ve got it covered,” Harry said aloud, trying, without success, not to burst out laughing.
    Màire shook her head at him and teased, “It’s amazing what that Declan guy has to do to get a date, huh, Harry?”
    He gave her the finger as he stumbled out the door and heard their roaring laughter behind him. Although Keira was a small thing, it was very difficult to stir a drunken person. She could barely put one foot in front of the other, so their legs got intertwined. Fearing they would stumble to the ground, Declan decided to scoop her up, carrying her to the room.
    “Yay! That’s nice,” she said as she let her head fall on his shoulder and laced her hands behind his neck closing her eyes.
    She snuggled closer to his body and he felt his heart beat like crazy inside his chest. He could hardly breathe and closed his eyes for a second to wait for the surge of blood in his veins to flow back upwards. It had gone straight down to his groin and he moaned at his body’s reaction to her proximity. He told himself he was a grown man, who was perfectly capable of taking a