"What do you want?"
"Nothing, honest to God. We don’t talk very often. I only thought I’d say hello." Liam wears a tragic smile as he sighs, turning away. "I know when I’m not wanted."
Good riddance.
He takes a few steps before peeking over his shoulder. "Oh, come on. You’re supposed to tell me it’s okay."
The nerve of this guy. "Just because you apologized doesn’t mean everything is forgiven."
"I am truly sorry. I was a bastard." Liam returns to my side, looking somber. "But I’ve grown up."
"That’s what Ronan says." I need to find him a present. "What should I get Ronan for Christmas? I got him as Secret Santa."
"Get him a cat turd. What do you care?"
"Because I don’t like losing. I have a competitive spirit."
Recognition dawns on his face. "Ah, I see."
"What?"
"You’re into my brother. Gigi, I thought better of you."
Patches of heat burn my cheeks. "I’m not into your stupid brother!"
"Scream it louder. The whole grocery store might not’ve heard you."
I could slap that smirk. "Can you do anything but piss me off?"
"Probably not."
His laughter fills my ears. I feel small. Humiliated. An echo of two boys sniggering seems to boom from the past.
I grab the basket. "Are you done?"
He sobers. "Gigi, I’m teasing."
"I’m not into Ronan."
"If you say so. But he’s definitely into you."
I take a step, and it’s like walking into a wall of fire.
What did he say?
Liam wears an expression of absolute sincerity. "Seriously, he won’t shut up about you. It’s all Gigi this and Gigi that. Dude is lost in love with you. Or lust. Come to think of it, probably lust—"
"He talks about me?" Even stranger than picturing Ronan kissing me, is imagining him pining for me. I assumed his behavior was a continuation of the schoolyard pranks, not a serious crush.
"Oh yeah." Liam’s smirk widens. "Poor fool."
I play with my necklace, wrapping the chain around my finger. "Why?"
"Well, you said you weren’t not into him. Too bad." Liam shoved his hands deep into his pockets, avoiding my gaze. "Yeah, I guess I’ll have to spend the rest of Christmas consoling his ass. There are other fish in the sea, Ronan."
"You’re lying."
"I’m sorry, why do you think he pestered you all these years? The guy is obsessed with you."
I couldn’t believe it. "No way."
"Yes way." Liam rakes his head, frustrated. "Hasn’t he been asking you out? And you keep rejecting him?"
My mind is exploding. Ronan likes me. As in—harboring a secret crush for years—likes me.
Holy shit. "Well, yeah."
"See?" Liam picks up his basket, stricken. "The guy will barely eat."
"Get out of here." I wave him off, grinning. "Now you’re lying."
"He’s been in love with you since he was nine."
He’s in love with me?
My heart pounds with images of Ronan. Ronan as a lover, a boyfriend, a husband.
"It’d be a huge favor to me if you went on one date with him." Liam holds his hands out, placating. "Please. I can’t stand watching him like this."
Part of me likes the idea of Ronan suffering. "That’s a really bad idea."
"Please."
"No." I glare at him, daring him to ask me again.
"Go out with him and throw coffee in his face, for all I care! Just do it so it shuts him up. Do it for my sake."
"I don’t see why I should."
"Get a free meal at a fancy restaurant. Seriously, make the bastard pay for an expensive dinner. It’s the least he can do after everything he’s done over the years. Plus, you’ll get the satisfaction of rejecting him when it’s all over. You’ll hit him where it hurts." A smirk tiptoes across his face. "It’s a win-win situation."
Now that’s an idea. "Tempting, but a bit too mean. Even for me."
"Promise me you’ll think about it."
I walk away from Liam without responding, my brain buzzing with what he’s told me.
Ronan’s in love with me.
Ronan
A silhouette looms at the door. It’s my brother. His silent presence suffocates the room, and he hasn’t even made a sound. His judgmental stare bores holes into my skull.
I ignore him, mashing the buttons of my PlayStation. It’s a futile enterprise, because Liam refuses to be ignored. He walks into my room without an invite—asshole—and blocks my view of the television.
I look up. "What?"
Liam crosses his arms, disapproval written all over his face. "We need to talk."
"In a minute, I’m in the middle of—"
Liam’s foot knocks the TV, shutting it off.
A frustrated scream bursts from my throat. "Dude, I was eight hours into that game!"
"You mad, little bitch?"
I launch at his knees and knock him over. He collapses to the floor, shaking the whole room. Then I grab his head and dig my knuckles into his scalp. "How do you like it?"
Liam’s lips whiten as he fights to draw breath. "Air!"
I release my hold around his neck, and the bastard laughs.
"Gotcha."
His hand whirls from nowhere, slapping me. My cheek explodes with a sharp sting. "What the hell’s your problem?"
Red-faced, he shoves me backward. "That’s for being such a dick to Gigi."
I sink into the mattress, rubbing my burning skin. "What?"
"She told me what you did."
"Which is what? I’ve bent over backwards for that girl, and she won’t give me a freaking inch."
"That’s because you keep going on about getting laid, you idiot. The girl’s not some flavor of the week you can dump whenever you feel like."
I push myself up to my elbows. "What are you talking about?"
"I’m talking about you messing around with her feelings!"
I goggle at him. "Since when do you give a shit about Gigi?"
"The moment I pulled my head out of my ass, baby bro." Liam’s grin flashes across the room. "She’s been talking to me for days. Asking me for advice on how to deal with you. Why you’re so mean to her."
"Really?" My face grows hot as Liam’s gaze narrows. "Hold on, I’m not mean to her. Why—?"
"Dude." Liam shakes his head, ashamed for me. "Do you not get it? Gigi is in love with you."
My voice jumps an octave. "What?"
"My God, Ronan." He sinks into my office chair, laughing. "How do you manage to get laid? Must be the football thing, because there’s no one upstairs."
I stare at him, unwilling to believe him. "You are so full of shit."
"She’s into you! Always has been! Why do you think she gave you a hard time? Gigi is carrying a big one for you, and you’re fucking it up."
"How?"
"By pushing a one-night stand on her."
This isn’t adding up. "How did you become Gigi’s confidante?"
"The girl’s super lonely after her fiancé dumped her." Liam plays with my Star Wars toys, flying an X-wing through the air. "I talk to her when she’s outside. You’re usually training."
How did I miss this? "She said she has a crush on me?"
Annoyed, Liam throws the X-wing at me.
It bounces off my jaw. "Ow, stop being a fucking—"
"No, man. You stop. We fucked around with Good Girl when we were young, but now we’re grown-ass men. And we need to act accordingly. That means, stop fucking with her emotions! She doesn’t have a crush. She’s in love with you."
My head reels from this information. "That’s not possible. We haven’t seen each other in years."
"And now you’re back. Your presence is dredging up all the old feelings." Liam stares at me, pity filling his dark blues. "Dude, how can you not see this? Gigi has always been head over heels for you. Think about it. You were the h
ot guy next door who paid her so much attention."
"Yeah, by cutting the hair off her Barbie dolls." I’m still ashamed of that one.
"I never said it was a healthy love." He tosses one of my signed footballs in the air. "I mean, you were basically a bastard to her the moment Dad left."
My face burned. "You weren’t innocent, either."
"I was mostly there as a witness. And backup." He catches the football. "You were the one with the feud."
I’d forgotten what sparked my first stupid prank against Gigi. It might’ve been frustration from my dad’s absence—and the sweet, trusting girl next door was an easy target. I put that girl through so much shit, and the whole time she had a crush on me.
More than a crush. Overwhelming shame consumes me.
"I don’t want to hurt her. Maybe I should back off."
"No," he says sharply. "You need to go on a date with her."
"Why?"
"Because it’s the least you can do. Give the poor girl a taste of what it’s like to be with you. Don’t treat her like some Tinder slut you throw away after one night."
"I wouldn’t do that!"
"If you screw this up, Mom will be pissed. Gigi’s mother will tell ours, and then she’ll kill you. You’ll be cut from the will."
"I’ll be making a shitload of money by then, but I see your point. I don’t want to spend the rest of my break apologizing to Mom."
"Exactly." Liam bounces off the chair. "Show her a good time."
"Okay."
My brother disappears into the hall as I sit with my jaw agape. I never—ever—considered Gigi’s feelings for me might be more serious—that this whole time she nurtured a crush that grew into something deeper.
I don’t know what to do.
I hadn’t considered her as a potential girlfriend. We have a history, but it’s one mostly filled with tears and schoolyard pranks. Come to think of it, most of my childhood memories involve Gigi.
She was always there, waiting for me to grow up, and all I did was cause her misery. It’s not too late to mend things. I owe her this.
Sliding my phone from the nightstand, I find Gigi’s name. I touch the button to call, my stomach clenching when it rings. A curious warmth spreads through my body when she answers.
"Hello."
I lick my lips, heart pounding. "Want to go on a date?"
Gigi
It’s only a date. A pity date, truth be told.
Yeah, right.
I didn’t come because I felt sorry for the man. I said yes because I hadn’t been able to purge him from my thoughts since bumping into Liam at the grocery store. Part of me was curious. What would a date with Ronan be like?
At seven, he showed up at my door in a midnight-blue pea coat and drove me downtown.
Nighttime in Danville looks like a Christmas card. Golden lights festoon the lanes and drape from tree to tree. Storefronts dazzle with color. People flutter in and out of the boutiques for last minute shopping. Swinging doors jingle, bells clap, snow paints a fine mist over parked cars, and a street performer plays saxophone.
He walks beside me, soaking in the night with a fresh-faced excitement that almost radiates off him. He’s happy to be here, and it’s rubbing off on me. A couple passes us on the sidewalk. I squeeze closer to Ronan, who gently wraps his hand around mine.
At his touch, a ball of heat pulses in my throat. "Where are you taking me?"
He hasn’t said much, which is bizarre for Ronan.
"A cool place."
"Short list on what that might be, considering this place has like…five restaurants."
"You’ll see."
"You’re quieter than usual. Not a single penis joke." I place my fingers across his forehead, and he grins. "You all right?"
"Dick jokes are bad form for a date. I’m trying to restrain myself. Here we go."
Ronan stops at a speakeasy with velvet curtains draped around the window. Inside, couples sit across each other at dainty wooden tables with candles flickering golden light. We squeeze into a spot at the packed cocktail bar, which is apparently a hit with locals. A chalkboard advertises drink specials. I order the Grinch, a greenish concoction with crushed mint leaves. Ronan asks for a single malt whiskey and takes my hand, leading me up the stairs into a quieter alcove with leather loveseats.
We sit together. I settle into the buttery soft blackness, my lungs tight. He slides the wool coat from his shoulders, so close to me the heat of his body warms me. I can count every eyelash. He shaved for me, too.
I’ve never seen him in black cashmere, but that’s all he should ever be allowed to wear.
He clinks his glass against mine. "To former enemies."
"Oh, I’m not so sure about that. We’re not square yet." I sip the mint julep, grinning. "I haven’t forgotten about the tree."
"Good. What did you do with the lights?"
"I kept them. It seemed wasteful to chuck them."
"Yeah?" He laughs, stretching like a cat. "And your gift?"
I still have that, too. "Let’s change the subject."
He winks. "You’ll have to tell me how it goes."
"No, I won’t, because it’s going in the trash as soon as I’m home. Why do I let you get away with so much shit?"
"Because I’m hot, and you don’t want to ruin your chances with me."
Why does everything that comes from his mouth sound so dirty?
"Maybe I should fill your underwear drawer with butt plugs." Alcohol burns my throat as he chortles. "And don’t get ahead of yourself. I am here to satisfy a curiosity, and nothing more."
Mischief twinkles in his sapphire pools. "We’re on an actual date, Gigi. That’s more than you ever said you’d do with me. So today, it’s a date. Tomorrow? Who knows."
Oh, there’s a lot I’m willing to do with you.
I’ve definitely had too much booze. It’s stifling in here, so I slide the coat off my little black dress. Ronan’s gaze rakes my exposed skin like hot coals. It’s as though he’s thinking about putting his hand on my thigh. Honestly, I might not stop him.
He doesn’t, though. Instead his arm snakes around my back and anchors my shoulder. I turn toward him, and his blue eyes take me in. A small smile plays his mouth as he drinks in my legs, lips, and hair. His desire ripples through me like a current.
Not touching him is torture. "Why did you ask me out?"
"Because I want you, and I’ve been trying to get you the wrong way."
"Hmm. Yeah, I guess the dildo was a bit untoward."
He reaches for his drink, but then his hand returns to my shoulder with tantalizing slowness.
I know what he’s doing. Why is it working?
He sips his whiskey, smiling faintly. "Do you remember when I taught you to catch grasshoppers?"
I recall those long summer days when I was too young to wander the woods and the streets alone. Our mothers used to make us play together. "You mean failing to catch them."
"You caught one and named him Andrew. We put it in a mason jar, and, if I remember correctly, it died three days later."
"And then we had a funeral for it. God, that’s embarrassing."
"Didn’t you have a cat—or save one?" Ronan squints at the ceiling, straining his memory. "It was white."
"Hero." An old tom dragged himself to our porch one evening, a huge burr stuck in his paw. Mom and I removed the thorn, cleared the infection, and he transformed into the most affectionate pet. "I loved that bugger."
"I was so jealous."
"Really?"
"Yep." He sighs. "Mom wouldn’t let us have a cat, because Liam was allergic. I wanted to play with Hero, but we were enemies at the time. Remember when he went missing?"
God, how could I forget? It was the worst week of my life. "Yeah, he vanished for days, and then somehow showed up in our house."
He smiles knowingly.
"Did you have something to do with that?" I ask.
"I’m the one who found him."
>
I stare at him. "No way."
"I saw your posters and wanted to help. I was upset over the damned cat, even though I’d only petted it a couple times. So I started walking the street with my flashlight."
"So why didn’t you tell me?"
"Why are teenage boys stupid? They just are." Ronan shakes his head, sighing. "Anyway, one night I was strolling past Wisteria, and I heard a meow. It was coming from a locked garage. I knocked on the door, and there he was. He was fine, only hungry, I bet. He purred in my arms as I walked home. When I got to your place, I pushed him through the screen door. It was unlocked. I found Hero, and I’ve wanted to tell you for years. So there."
It’s the weirdest thing; I want to cry. "I can’t believe you did that for me. Thank you."
Ronan leans close, his hand on my cheek. "I didn’t tell you that story to make you upset."
I blink away the tears. "No, I’m happy."
"I wasn’t always a prick. You just didn’t know."
I knew he was capable of being nice. A memory kicks to the surface. They’re only images: Ronan’s bright-green Ninja Turtles backpack, his grubby hand holding mine, those first, gigantic steps into the school bus. We used to point at cars we saw through the window and say, that one’s mine.
Lost in memories, I smile. "How long are you home this time?"
"Until the first. I tried to get a longer break, but football."
"Are you still considering quitting?"
"Football’s not really on my mind." A smirk tugs at his lips. "Been too busy wearing a fat suit that weighs five-hundred pounds simply to appease some girl."
Patches of heat rise to my cheeks. "Stop being so charming."
"I can’t. It’s in my blood."
My breath stills at the promise simmering in his eyes. "What do you want from me?"
"I’m looking at what’s in front of me. You’ve been here all this time. All this fucking time—right next door. And I haven’t treated you the way I should."
No, you have not.
But he is now—he’s behaving like a gentleman and trying so hard to change my mind. I never imagined he’d do anything kind for me, but he found my cat and brought him home, and he’s sorry for what he’s done, but I don’t care anymore. All I want is for him to kiss me.
Jingle Balls Page 9