Tiny fractures, p.14
Tiny Fractures, page 14
“And how long do you have to stay out?”
“I don’t know; I haven’t exactly timed them before,” he says, and we both laugh out loud.
“Sometimes, if I’m too tired, I just end up crashing on the couch in the living room, but tonight I thought I’d take Onyx for a little stroll and let those two get the horniness out of their system. Things can get a bit noisy,” he says, his eyebrows knitted, but his lips are still smiling. “How about you? Why are you out here?”
“Well, I woke up and thought I’d enjoy the nightly breeze.”
“It is a really nice night,” he agrees. “Are you feeling okay, though? You had quite a bit to drink earlier.” He looks at me with concern.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I drank a bunch of water and took some aspirin. I feel pretty good, actually,” I assure him, and drink in his handsome features. His smile is gentle, and the fullness of his lips makes me want to graze mine against them.
“I’m really glad to hear that,” he says, and pulls his bottom lip slightly into his mouth, running his tongue over it and wetting it. Our eyes meet and we look at each other so intensely my whole body is covered in goose bumps.
I swallow hard. “Ronan, I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asks, his eyes not leaving mine.
“For kissing you to make that other guy go away.” I feel lousy; this is exactly the kind of crap I vowed never to do again.
“Oh, so you were just using me,” he says with mock offense, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Yeah, I guess so….”
He considers me, his gaze locked on me, burning their way into my soul. His lips are pressed together, brow tense as if he’s battling with himself the way I’m battling with myself. Part of me wishes he would step closer to me, would move his hands to my hips, would pull me toward him and kiss me; another part of me is afraid, ashamed, trying desperately to remind myself of my boundaries.
Ronan hesitates for a fraction of a second longer, but then seems to lose the war with himself. He steps toward me and his left hand moves under my chin, gently lifting my head toward him. I know exactly what’s coming, and I do nothing to stop him.
The truth is, I want it to happen.
Ronan leans in and brushes his lips against mine, kissing me softly. I part my lips, and his tongue slips inside my mouth. He tastes me while his hand moves from my chin over my shoulder and down to my hip, settling on my lower back. He pulls me into him, and our bodies melt together as our kiss intensifies.
My breath falters, my heart beats erratically against my ribs, and I press my chest against his. He continues caressing my tongue with his, his kisses igniting a fire inside me I didn’t know existed. I’ve never felt this way, not even with Adam, and it feels new, raw, and breathtaking. My senses are in overdrive and my legs become weak as Ronan deepens the kiss, his tongue venturing further into my mouth, devouring me. His hand on my low back is searing hot, and it sends a wave of desire through every fiber of me. I don’t want it to stop, ever, but Ronan pulls away, slowly opening his eyes. I can still feel my lips tingling and my breathing is frantic.
“There, now we’re even,” he says, his voice gravelly. A smile begins to form on his full, soft lips, his green eyes intense when I meet his gaze.
It’s subtle, but I can feel my world shift.
I blink at him as he takes a small step back to give me some space, staying close enough that I can still feel the electricity between our bodies.
He pulls out his phone. “I feel like I should ask for your number. I mean, I’ve saved you a couple of times, and we’ve officially made out twice now.” He flashes me that sexy half-smile.
“Yeah, I guess we’re kinda going about this the wrong way, huh?” I say, blushing.
“I’m not sure I’d call it wrong”—he shrugs, still smiling—“but if that’s how you feel, then I guess I should do something to make it right.”
My eyes flicker back to his lips and I swallow hard before looking in his eyes. “What are you thinking, exactly?” While I’m excited, I also feel a little on edge, like this conversation might be taking a turn I’m not comfortable with.
He senses my apprehension, and his eyes turn serious. “I’m thinking we slow it down a little, and maybe you’ll let me take you out?” He looks at me with a mixture of doubt and childlike hopefulness.
My lips tug upward into a smile. “I think I’d like that.”
“Me, too.” His eyes are soft as he smiles at me. “Thursday? Shane will be pissed if I blow off his party tonight. You’ll be there, right?”
It takes me a second to remember which party Ronan is talking about. “Oh shit!” I exclaim, slapping my hand over my mouth. “It’s officially your birthday!”
He chuckles. “So, are you going to be at Shane’s tonight and then go out me with the next day?”
I lower my hand from my mouth, exposing my huge smile. I nod, blushing. “Yes. I’m really looking forward to it,” I say, actually feeling pretty giddy.
“So am I,” Ronan agrees earnestly. He tugs on Onyx’s leash as he steps backwards off the stoop and turns to leave.
“Ronan,” I say loudly.
He turns his head in my direction and nods for me to say whatever it is I’m going to say.
“What do you like?”
He cocks his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
I laugh. “For your birthday. I want to get you a present.”
He smiles widely. “You just did!”
Ronan
Well shit, talk about a coincidence. I had no idea Cat lived within a ten-minute walking distance of my house. And who would have even thought she would not only be awake at well past two in the morning but also outside, sitting on the stoop of her front door?
I was exhausted and so lost in my own damn thoughts that I hardly paid attention to my surroundings. I was on autopilot, biding my time until it was safe to head back home and not interrupt, or accidentally eavesdrop on, Steve and Vada getting busy in Steve’s room. And, man, I wouldn’t have even noticed Cat if it hadn’t been for Onyx abruptly veering off the sidewalk and running toward her. But I can’t blame her, because there’s something so damn magnetic about Cat.
I have the hardest time staying away from her, and I can’t even really put my finger on why. I mean, she’s stunning. Holy shit, she’s fucking gorgeous. She has these incredible eyes that I swear change color like mood stones—one minute they’re a cinnamon brown, and the next they’re a deep, dark green. Her high cheekbones and cute nose are specked with light freckles, and she has probably the most enticingly full lips that were so damn soft when we kissed.
But it’s not just her looks. She just radiates warmth and light, like she is the sun. And there’s something about her energy, like she matches mine. Or maybe “match” isn’t the right word; maybe it’s more that she complements my own energy, diminishes the darkness hidden inside me. Talking with her is so easy, and I feel so fucking calm around her.
I mostly live my life in a state of anticipation and anxiety, always on edge, expecting the next fight, the next hit, more pain. The tension obviously eases when I’m around my friends, but nothing compares to what it feels like to be around Cat. It makes me want to spend more time with her. I’ve honestly never felt this drawn to someone, never met a girl I wanted to get to know as badly as I want to get to know Cat. There is something so damn compelling about her; it’s familiar yet new, and my thoughts turn to her constantly. What’s crazy about this whole thing is that I only met her a month ago, but I swear it was like she flipped a switch when she walked down those stairs to the beach. And even though I really should try a hell of a lot harder to stay away from her, because, really, she doesn’t need any of my shit, I can hardly wait to see her in just a few hours.
Once I’m home, I make my way up the stairs, pulling my shirt off as I walk. I shut the door to my room behind me, throw the shirt in the corner, and unbutton my jeans, ready to take them off.
“So, where do you go when you leave in the middle of the damn night?” I hear from behind me.
I jump. “Jesus, Vada, you have a knack for sneaking up on me.”
Vada is standing in the doorway between my room and the bathroom connecting Steve’s and my bedrooms, wearing a pair of Steve’s boxers and a t-shirt. I peek past her through the open door to Steve’s room and spot him passed out on his bed.
Vada has an inquisitive look on her face, her arms crossed in front of her chest like she just caught me red-handed.
“I just walk,” I whisper, holding on to my kiss with Cat, guarding it like a fragile piece of glass.
“Well, you have an awfully happy look on your face for someone who ‘just walks,’” she says, making air quotes.
“What are you getting at?”
“I got a text message from Cat.” Vada grins, pushes herself off the doorframe, and walks toward me with a smug look. “So, what are your intentions with her?”
I raise my eyebrows in amusement. “What?”
“What are your intentions with her, Ran?” She takes another step toward me, poking her index finger into my chest. “I mean, you just happened to walk by her house? That’s kind of weird, isn’t it?”
I laugh. “It was a complete coincidence. I swear I had no idea she lived there. I mean, what kind of guy do you think I am?” I press my lips together, pretending to be offended, but the corners tug into a smile.
“And you two just talked? In the middle of the night?” Vada raises one eyebrow. That means Cat didn’t tell her about the kiss, and I appreciate this because it makes me think the kiss was just as precious to Cat as it was to me.
I nod, keeping my face neutral, unwilling to give anything away.
“Okay,” Vada finally says, not looking convinced. “Just do me a favor. Don’t hurt her, alright? Don’t just hook up with her if you’re not interested in anything more. I’m not stupid; I can see that she likes you, and if you don’t feel the same way then please, please don’t lead her on,” Vada says, taking on a serious tone.
I nod slowly. “I have no intentions of hurting anyone, Vada. I promise.”
She moves in for a quick hug. “Thanks, Ran. I should get back to your brother, although he looks like he wouldn’t even know if I just left.” She giggles and walks back through the bathroom into Steve’s room, shutting the door behind her.
I move to shut the bathroom door, finally get out of my jeans, and then crawl into bed, turning off the light.
My fingers trace a line over an inch-long scar on my left palm. I got this scar when I was nine and my mother swung a kitchen knife at me after I didn’t take out the trash before I left for hockey practice. I tried to shield myself and the tip of the knife slashed into my hand, cutting it open. And then I got my ass whipped for daring to bleed onto the kitchen floor. The one thing I always tell myself is that I would never intentionally hurt anyone I love. And although I have no idea what I feel for Cat, I know in my heart and soul that the last thing I will ever do is intentionally inflict pain on her—physical, emotional, or otherwise.
My phone rings, waking me up. I reach for it next to my pillow without opening my eyes. “Hello?” I manage sleepily.
“Hey! Happy fucking birthday, dude! Did I wake you?” Shane’s voice says on the other end.
I move the phone away from my ear to get a look at the time. It’s nine in the morning. “Kinda. What’s up?” I slowly sit up in my bed. I can hear the shower running in the bathroom and giggles coming from behind the still-closed door. I roll my eyes, shaking my head.
“Want to come to the gym with me? I have a shit-ton of pent-up energy and feel like lifting some weights, but I need someone to spot me. Plus, you’re getting older; can’t let you get rusty,” he adds with a chuckle.
I contemplate this, but my mind is made up the second I hear Vada moan in the bathroom. “I’d love to join you,” I say, and jump out of bed.
“Sweet. Meet you there in twenty,” Shane says, and hangs up without a further response from me.
I grab some gym clothes from my closet and get dressed. Then I take a few steps toward the bathroom door, from behind which I can now hear heavy breathing. I take a deep breath, exhale, and pound my fist against the door.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I need my toothbrush,” I say loudly, and the noises stop.
A few seconds elapse before I hear the door lock slide back. The door opens just wide enough for Steve to shove my toothbrush at me before he slams the door shut and the lock clicks back into place.
“Thanks,” I say, more to myself. Judging by the renewed giggling, I don’t think Steve can even hear me.
When I come down the stairs, my mother is in the kitchen pouring herself hot water for tea; I wonder if she knows Vada spent the night. I pause in the hallway, hesitating, analyzing my mom’s posture, her movements. She’s humming, which makes me think she’s in a good mood, so I risk it and venture into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Happy birthday,” she greets me lightly when she notices me.
“Thanks.”
“Are you heading to the gym?” She turns toward me and leans against the kitchen counter, taking a sip from her steaming cup.
“Uh-huh,” I nod.
“Little birthday workout. Just you?”
“No, I’m meeting Shane.”
“Great! How was your night?”
“Fine,” I say matter-of-factly, not wanting to get involved in conversation. It’s too early, and I’m still too damn tired to be fully on guard. I would much prefer she ignore me like she does most days. Her eyes flicker to the bruise on my forearm—an early birthday present from her and the result of a closed-fist punch that I’m pretty certain was aimed at my stomach, but I shifted and she caught my arm instead. It’s been a couple of days since she struck me, but the bruise is still a deep, dark blue.
“That’s good,” she says awkwardly. “Oh, so it appears your dad is finally coming home this weekend,” she tells me joyously.
“Really?” My dad has been saying he’d come home for some time now, but something has always come up at the last minute. His absence doesn’t make much of a difference to me anymore. It’s his broken promises and the resultant fights he has with my mother that make my life hard.
“So he says.” My mom shrugs. “Anyway, I just got home and I’m working a twenty-four-hour shift tonight, so I’m headed to bed. Are you working tonight?”
“No, but Steve and I will be at Shane’s tonight.”
“Okay. Remember your curfew,” she says, then walks out of the kitchen. “And, Ronan,” she calls back, stopping just before the stairs. “Clean up this mess of a house before I get back tomorrow night.” She points at something out of my sight.
I nod, frustrated. Even though I try to keep the place tidy so as not to provoke a fight, she always finds something to nitpick.
“What the hell is that face for, Ronan?” She turns toward me completely, holding her hot tea in one hand, resting the other on her hip.
I check myself and immediately replace the look with a neutral expression. “Nothing. Sorry, Mom. I’m just still a little tired. I’m gonna head out.” I try to release the tension that has seized my shoulders, but I’m only able to relax once I’m safely outside and in my car.
Cat
I’m in my room, listening to my music at full volume while texting Julie about my upcoming trip to see my dad and siblings. It’s perfect timing because it’s Julie’s seventeenth birthday next week and I’ll get to celebrate with her. She’s giddy about my brief return home, responding to my messages in all caps with lots of exclamation points.
I do look forward to seeing my dad, brother, and sister. And my friend, Julie, and Julie’s boyfriend, Nate. But of course, there’s always the risk of running into my ex, Adam, or any of the myriad of other people who made my life a living hell. When I talked to Julie last week, I made her give me an update on things. Are people still talking? Is my name still brought up despairingly?
The town I grew up in is so small—everyone knows everyone—so chances are I’ll run into Adam or some of his posse. It’s a thought that leaves me feeling uneasy and anxious, but I push it aside, not wanting to ruin my anticipation of seeing my family and friends.
I’m singing along loudly when there’s a knock on the front door. Not making any effort to see who it is, I wait for my mom to answer the door, which she does just a few moments later. I can’t make out who it is and just assume it’s the mailman or a neighbor, but then my mom walks into my room with a smile on her face.
“There’s a really cute guy waiting in the hall for you,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Who?” I ask, trying hard to make any sense of the situation.
“He said his name is Ronan.” Her smile grows even wider.
Heat rises in my face and body. “Oh,” is all I’m able to get out, and I stand stupidly in my room, my phone still in my right hand. This is unexpected.
“Well, are you going to come talk to him or do you want me to tell him you’re busy?” my mom asks, still grinning at me, obviously enjoying my stupid reaction.
I fling my phone onto my bed and run to the small mirror hanging above my nightstand to fuss with my hair. I hear my mom giggle in the background and I take a deep breath—a feeble attempt at calming myself down. Why the hell am I reacting this strongly?
“Okay,” I say, more to myself than her, and stalk past my mom, wishing—no, willing—my heart to return to a steady beat. Even though I saw Ronan only twelve hours ago—a fact that my mom is blissfully unaware of—my heart hammers at the prospect of laying eyes on him in just a second or two.
I thought about him after he left last night and again this morning when I woke up, and I keep replaying our interaction: his soft lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth, his gorgeous green eyes, his sexy hair… Ugh, I need to get a grip.
But all my composure melts into a puddle and I smile widely when I step into the hallway where Ronan is standing. He clearly just left the gym because he’s wearing gym shorts, sneakers, and a gray, sleeveless shirt that is damp over his tight abs. I resist the urge to let my gaze roam his body and instead lock eyes with him.
