Chapter Twenty-Five

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“I reckon!” The colourless liquid in Niall’s glass sloshed as he slammed what was left of it on the bar counter. “That’s exactly what I’ve been saying.”

“Yes!” The hazel eyed girl sitting on the stool next to him pinched a strand of brown hair in her fingers. “I suppose it’s cool to meet all these family members I never knew existed, but I wish it didn’t have to be such a massive crowd. It’s a two second hello and then you move on. You don’t actually get to know anyone.”

“True enough.” Niall nodded, downing the rest of the drink. I took a tiny sip of the fizzing alcohol in my cup, my lips puckering at the taste. I normally wasn’t a fan of drinking per say, but I didn’t want to look out of place what with everyone else here being heavy drinkers. Even Niall told me he liked a pint or two. I guess it’s an Irish thing.

I leaned up on the counter, lessoning the distance between Niall and I. My eyes surveyed the room travelling from person to person. Everyone was mingling, laughing happily as they drank their mugs of beer and reminisced about old times. The girl Niall was currently chatting up was British and was the only one here who was remotely out of place. She was from London and had to come alone because her parents couldn’t make it. The whole place was foreign to her.

Unfortunately for us, the girl had decided to scan the family tree to find Niall and I on it. Coincidentally, two different Niall’s had been listed, a father and a son, so Niall pointed quickly to them. He then had introduced me as his American girlfriend who he’d brought along to meet the family.

I pushed away my glass of clear alcohol in pure distaste, tuning out most of Niall and the young Charlotte’s conversation. They were talking about football, a topic that didn’t particularly interest me and one that I didn’t know much about. If it hadn’t been for Niall’s comforting arm snuggled around my waist, I probably would have slipped out of the basement and trudged upstairs ages ago. I was starting to feel a bit claustrophobic with all of the unfamiliar people crowding around me.

“You okay, Brookie?” Niall’s fingers tightened on the curve of my waist, pressing gently into the fabric of my dress.

“I’m fine. I’m just not a fan of crowds.” I admitted, my eyes darting around the room.

“Me too.” Niall nodded, dropping his arm from my waist and entwining his fingers with mine. “Let’s go. Nice meeting ya, Charlotte.”

Charlotte lifted a frail hand to wave as we made our way to the stairs.

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