Ronan
"Time to say goodbye." I park the car and cut the engine. It slowly ticks as I watch Gigi muster the energy to leave.
We talked ourselves hoarse during the drive there, but didn’t say much on the return trip. I wanted to commit every moment with Gigi to memory, and then I daydreamed our future. I saw us living together: Gigi waking me up by straddling my waist, smiling at me over breakfast, sorting the mail.
Gigi drags my hand over her lap, fingers intertwined with mine. She wears a faraway expression. "I guess I should go. What do we tell everyone?"
"You really think they’ll care?"
"Yes. My mom especially." Gigi sighs, glancing at the glowing windows. "I imagined this moment the whole trip home, picturing the look on Mom’s face. I don’t know how to explain."
"That’s easy—my dick tastes like rainbow sherbet."
She slaps my shoulder. "Be serious."
"Fine." My voice deepens. "Say we’re dating."
"That’s too vague. She’ll press me."
"Call me your boyfriend. You’ve been dying to do that since we met."
"You freaking wish." Mischief plays in her eyes like dancing charcoal flames. "I had a great time, Ronan. This weekend was the most sex-crazed I’ve ever had. My mind is blown."
"Aww. You’ll make me blush."
"You know what I mean." Gigi moves closer, her lips hovering over mine. "It was amazing. All of it."
Yes, it was.
An electric spark jumps between us, like an invisible wire pulling us together. When we meet, I kiss her hard. A feeling that I’m on top of a rollercoaster runs through me. We’ve kissed all weekend, and still the same thrill.
She palms my left pec. "I have to go."
"When will I get you alone?"
"We’ll think of something." She grabs her purse and luggage, and then opens the doors.
The gust of cold wind seems appropriate for her exit. I miss her warmth. I close the door and shiver. Gigi waves and rolls her case up the shoveled driveway.
Seconds later, I’m hauling my duffel over my porch. I already hate the distance between us. Do we have a shot? Most couples in the same situation end up breaking up.
You’ll be too far.
My stubborn heart refuses to accept it. Gigi and I will work. We’re not like other couples. We have a bond forged by mutual lust.
A real connection. Since when has a chick said that without me fleeing? But it’s time to nut up and face the facts. My feelings have developed far beyond admiring how sexy she looks in a Mrs. Claus outfit. Picturing her gets my blood going. Touching her makes my soul sing.
I fell for her. Hard. There’s no denying it anymore.
The door swings open. Silhouetted against the threshold stands my brother dressed in a robe.
Slowly, he brings his hands together and claps. "Well played. You hooked up with the girl next door."
"Jesus Christ, Liam." I nudge him aside, bag dropping snow over the hardwood. "Do you have to be so annoying?"
"I like being right about couples, that’s all. At school, they call me Professor Cupid."
"So lame."
Mom’s voice whips from the kitchen. "Ronan, Liam, come here! I’m not going to ask again!"
"Shit." I laugh. "She’s in a mood."
Liam elbows me. "What did you do?"
"What did you do? I just got here!"
"Well someone pissed her off," Liam hisses. "Oh fuck."
Mom walks into the foyer, her face beet-red and shaking. "What did you do to Gigi?"
I sigh. "Nothing."
"I saw you kiss her, Ronan! Right before she jumped out of the car and waved at you like—like—"
"—like he’d been screwing her the whole weekend."
Mom whacks Liam’s ear. "Enough."
"We hung out, that’s all."
Fury blazes from her gaze. "That girl isn’t a plaything. She’s an emotionally distraught woman who’s been abandoned by her fiancé. You took advantage!"
"Mom, that’s not fair. Gigi’s an adult. She wanted to come with me." I whirl on Liam, who’s sneaking down the hallway. "Back me up!"
Liam’s playful grin disappears as he faces Mom’s wrath. "Er—he’s right. She’s a big girl and can make her own terrible decisions."
Asshole. "See? He agrees with me."
"I asked you to take care of her. Not mess around with her!"
"Gigi and I are dating. I’m serious about her."
A shocked silence hangs in the room. "Dating?" Mom asks. "Really?"
"Yes."
Liam chuckles. "Damn, when I’m right, I’m right."
Whatever. "I’m taking a nap. Thanks for the warm welcome."
"Wait, Sweetie!" Mom clutches my arm, tears spilling from her eyes. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. I think it’s wonderful you’re seeing Gigi. She’s a very good girl."
Liam snorts, peering outside. "So what’d you guys do?"
Each other, mostly. "We went to Vermont for skiing."
"Your coach called. He seemed a little manic." Liam leans against the banister, smug. "I told him you’d be home soon."
Crap. I’d ignored my phone all weekend. "I’ll get back to him."
"Won’t they pay you a lot to throw a football around if you go pro? Shouldn’t you be more invested in his calls?"
"Eat my dick." I stop at Mom’s threatening glare. "Sorry."
Mom glowers at me. "There’s shepherd’s pie in the oven. Help yourself."
I haul my crap to my room as Liam follows. He winks at me, whispering. "That was close."
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, I’m assuming you said all that for Mom’s benefit. Right?" His eyes widen at my continued silence. "No shit."
"You need to take a greater interest in your own love life."
"But I like matchmaking. You’ll thank me one day."
Resigned to his presence, I return to the kitchen and carve out a giant piece of shepherd’s pie. "Seriously, why are you still single?"
A flicker of something passes over my brother’s face. "There is a girl…but it’s complicated. She’s off-limits."
"A student?"
"I didn’t say that. Just someone I’m not supposed to be with."
"It’s a student." My grin widens as my brother flushes. "No wonder you’ve been acting out. You have the hots for a pupil. Imagine if Mom found out—ow!"
Pain stabs my head as he lets loose a thick rubber band.
I shove my chair backward, standing. "Are you twelve?"
"Stop yelling with your mouth full. It’s unbecoming." Restless, Liam glances down the hall as though to check for Mom. "Learn to lower your damned voice."
I rub my ear feverishly. "Ask nicely, next time."
"Yeah, I don’t do nice." Liam peers at something outside, his jaw going slack. "Huh."
"What is it?"
"Probably nothing," he mutters. "Some young guy is at Gigi’s house. Holding flowers."
After a brief fight to see out of the window, I elbow Liam out of the way and look. "Shit. That’s her fiancé."
Sure enough, that douchebag’s standing on her porch. A bouquet of roses wrapped in paper points toward the ground.
He’s come to make up.
"Rotten luck," Liam sighs. "At least you had her for the weekend."
I slam Liam against the wall. He wheezes as my arm hits his chest.
"For once in your life, shut up. She’s not a fucking game, or a fling, or whatever the hell you and Mom think. I like her—I’m dating her."
"Tell her that." Liam sobers, dropping the cute act. "Go to her. Don’t wait for things to cool off—go now—or she’ll jump into that jerk’s arms. Storm over there and tell him to fuck off!"
"Yeah." I release him, swiveling toward the door. "I will."
Douchebag wants her back?
He’ll have to fight me for her.
Gigi
"Welcome home, sweetie."
Mom�
�s been waiting for me. The mug on the coffee table is stone cold and empty tea bags stain a ramekin. She smiles, but it’s tempered.
She found out.
"You didn’t tell me you were going on a trip with him."
I drop my suitcase and shut the door. "You saw us?"
Unsmiling, Mom gestures at the window with a clear view of the lawn. "You weren’t exactly subtle."
"I’m sorry. That’s not how I wanted you to find out."
"Find out what? What’s happening between you?"
"We’re dating. It’s shocking, I’m sure, but can we please skip the inquisition?"
Her mouth makes a silent o. After a few false starts, she finds her voice. "Gigi, honey, why did you lie to me? Did you think I wouldn’t approve?"
"Yeah." I hang my scarf in the closet, and then I sink into the couch.
Mom joins me. "When did this happen?"
"I don’t want to answer twenty questions right now. I get that you don’t like him."
"For good reason!" Incredulous, Mom shakes her head. "How often have I seen you cry over him?"
"Okay, I wasn’t crying over him. Ronan would do something that made me mad."
"Same difference," she barks. "He was mean to you."
"But he’s not anymore. Honest to God."
"Moms don’t forget. You used to get so upset."
"He’s apologized a thousand times, and I forgave him. Isn’t that enough?"
"No." She glares me, pausing in between tidying the table. "Not until I forgive him, too."
I sigh. "Fine."
Mom brings everything to the sink. "Are you studying, or is this a relaxed day?"
Anxiety pricks my chest. I completely forgot about the MCAT. The last thing I feel like doing after that amazing weekend is diving headfirst into organic chemistry. "Relaxing."
I lean forward, grabbing the remote. I scroll through Hulu and pick the first Christmas movie I find. My pocket buzzes with a text, but I ignore it. This thing with Ronan has twisted my insides. I continue to want him. That hasn’t changed.
Part of me hoped I’d snap out of it once I walked across the threshold, but I’m still humming in the post-glow of our perfect weekend. Ronan makes me happier than I ever was with James, which leads me to one conclusion. James was wrong for me from the beginning. Ronan and I have a connection, and letting him go out of pride would be stupid.
Mom opens the fridge. "I made some wienerschnitzel and spaetzle. Want some?"
"Yes, please!"
Beeps of the microwave echo in staccato bursts. The kitchen fills with savory scents, the smell and décor beckoning memories of Christmas. Images flash in my head: Ronan serving me turkey breast, sitting cross legged by the tree, exchanging gifts, kissing me.
We’ll be happy together. I’m sure.
It’s strange to feel so certain about something I can’t explain. Everything in my life was always chosen with great care. No decision was ever made without weighing the consequences against the advantages. Hell, getting engaged to James was mercenary. If I didn’t marry him, I might never find someone better.
But that was before Ronan. He opened my eyes. I had no idea this feverish anticipation was possible. Already, I’m looking at the door, hoping he’ll walk through it. This is the real deal. I wasted so much time with James. I won’t make the same mistake again.
The doorbell rings.
Is that him?
My heart hammers as I turn to the door, picturing Ronan’s handsome face. He can’t stay away from me. If that’s not a sign I should keep him, I don’t have a clue what is.
"I’ll get it!" I yank the handle. "Back so s—"
The door yawns to a man who isn’t Ronan. My ex-fiancé beams at the sight of me, his fair cheeks and ears beet-red from cold. It’s as though he couldn’t pluck up the courage to knock.
He thrusts forward a bouquet of Christmas roses. "Maggie. I’m so sorry."
"James."
The happy bubble swelling in my chest bursts. His presence is about as welcome as toe fungus. I’m not mad.
I’m simply over him.
Even his good looks do nothing to stir affection in my heart. I used to get a sharp tug of desire when he pulled me into his embrace, but that was long before Ronan.
My body and soul respond to Ronan, and him alone.
James rakes his short blond hair, smelling of Old Spice and pine freshener.
"Can I come in?" He glances over my shoulder, freezing at the sight of my mother. "Hi."
Mom crosses her arms. "What do you want?"
"To talk to Maggie. I’m sorry I burst in here like this, but you weren’t answering your phone."
"James, I have no idea where your stupid sweater is. If you came all the way here for that—"
"God, no. I want to talk." James wilts as he searches my face. "Aren’t you happy to see me?"
Nope.
I don’t say it, but James reads the worst from my expression. "Oh."
I step away. "Come in."
James pouts like a dog that’s been caught misbehaving. He wipes his feet on the rug before stepping inside. His first mistake is grinning at my mother, whose frown deepens.
"You’re not welcome here," she snaps. "What you did to my daughter was horrible."
I glance at her. "Let me talk to him."
James slides the bouquet over the counter. Then he shoves his hands deep into his pockets. "I had doubts about our relationship. I was—I was wrong." James takes my hands, eyes gleaming. "Maggie, I really fucked up."
This is going to suck. "Let’s go into the family room."
It doesn’t give us much privacy, but at least we’ll be able to have a conversation without Mom butting in. She’s probably listening to every word.
Hopefully, this will be over soon. "Get whatever it is off your mind."
I sit on the sofa, and James sinks into the cushions. We’re side-by-side, but I’ve never felt so distant from him.
"Wow." His eyes widen at my cold reception. "Y-you’re angry. I would be, too, and I’m deeply sorry. Maggie, I made a mistake. My parents were pressuring me to end it—they didn’t—they don’t understand me marrying someone like you. We’re old money and you…come from a blue collar family."
A plate crashes in the kitchen.
I wince. I’ll end up taking so much shit from her later. "Your parents didn’t approve?"
"Not really."
"Huh." Well, at least that explains all my frigid encounters with my almost-mother-in-law. I used to wonder what the hell I did to get on her bad side. Now I know. His mother is a classist jerk. "So you did what they wanted you to do."
"No, it wasn’t because of them."
"You dumped me, James. Out of the blue."
He twists his hands in his lap, shamefaced. "I made a terrible mistake. I regretted ending things the moment you left."
"Why didn’t you come after me?"
"Because I—I was scared."
I wait to get angry. Offended. Something. "I see."
"The last few days without you have been horrible. Absolutely terrible. I keep replaying what I did and wishing I could take it back."
"But you can’t."
"That doesn’t mean we won’t be able to work things out. As long as we love each other, we can get through anything. I still love you."
Heat rushes to my face. "I-I don’t feel the same. Sorry."
James gapes at me. "What?"
"I’m not in love with you. I never was."
He flinches as though struck. "Are you saying this to punish me?"
"No, I’m not mad. I’m just—done."
Devastation wracks his expression. "We haven’t been apart that long. You said you’d marry me!"
"I shouldn’t have said yes. I didn’t what I wanted, but I do now. It’s not you."
"I can’t believe this."
This is beyond awkward. "James, I’ve already moved on with another man."
"What?" His eyes narrow. "Who?"
"We have a connection!" He stands, an angry flush filling his cheeks. "Four years, Maggie!"
"That you decided to throw away." I walk him to the door. "For whatever it’s worth, I’m glad you ended things. We wouldn’t have made each other happy."
A stunned silence follows my words as he limps toward the door, gutted. James seizes the handle. He looks over his shoulder, his wounded gaze hardening into grim acceptance. "Merry Christmas, then."
"You too."
He opens the door and stalks across the lawn toward his Porsche as another figure makes a beeline for me.
Ronan.
Barefoot and angry, Ronan strides over the snow, hands clenched at his sides. He looks like he’s out for blood and James is right in his path.
Oh God. I can see where this is going and how it’ll end—with James on his back and pleading for Ronan to stop.
I run outside. "Don’t!"
To my surprise, Ronan stomps forward and ignores James. He doesn’t give him a second glance, and why would he?
He’s not that guy anymore.
Ronan grabs my arms, teeth chattering from cold. "G-gigi."
"Come inside, you nut. Where are your shoes?"
"I had to come over—is that him?" Ronan wheels around, staring at James, who pouts as he watches us.
"Yeah, it is."
My ex-fiancé rubs his face before ducking into the Porsche and driving away. I watch him disappear. He’ll find someone else—a trust fund heiress who makes Mommy and Daddy proud.
I drag Ronan into the house.
Mom stares as Ronan stumbles over the threshold, his feet white with cold. "Ronan, you’re freezing!"
"Fuck that," he growls, trembling in my grasp. His gaze falls on the bouquet of roses sitting on the table. "Why was he here?"
"To beg me to reconcile." I close the door behind Ronan, who’s still rooted to the spot.
Ronan’s voice deepens. "And will you?"
That’s why he stormed over here. He’s worried I’ll leave him.
Smiling, I wrap my arms around his icicle neck. "No."
Ronan grabs my face. His lips crash into mine, his heart hammering against my breasts. Even though he’s cold, he burns.
Jingle Balls Page 14