Ringer

by C. J. Duggan

  Don’t be silly, Miranda. You have never been whimsical about home, don’t start now.

  I left the lights on inside and made my way out the door, ensuring it didn’t slam behind me. I crept down the steps, rounding my way around towards the car. I could almost breathe a sigh of relief the closer I got to the driver’s side.

  Almost there.

  But just as I closed the distance I was brought to a jarring halt.

  “Forget something?”

  I closed my eyes; the sound of his voice caused my stomach to twist. I dropped my bag; my shoulders slumped in resignation as I turned to face him.

  Oh crap! Why did he have to look so good?

  There he stood, hair all tousled, yet perfectly imperfect from his sleep. His trademark navy T and navy Levis made my heart race; he was so sexy. I didn’t want the sight of him to affect me like this; it’s only lust, I told myself. Don’t be fooled into thinking it was anything else. But then I made a huge mistake.

  I looked into his eyes.

  His deep, soulful hazel eyes, that always seemed to alter in colour depending on how the elements hit them. And with the sun only just piercing the sky, his eyes were flecked with an intense lightness that made me want to forget everything and just walk to him. Hold on to him.

  But then that familiar cocky smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and I slammed down my rampant hormones. My brows lowered; it was so much easier to hate him with that smile on his infuriating, yet highly kissable, mouth. I double blinked, snapping my traitorous mind away from such thoughts, and straightened my spine.

  “You can’t go,” he said seriously.

  His voice was warm like melted butter and I tried to ignore the butterflies that tickled my insides when he spoke. I defiantly lifted my chin, hoping my silence would urge him to elaborate.

  If you ask me to stay, I will. I need you to ask. I don’t know where I stand with you.

  Ugh! Shut up, brain!

  “You see, there’s something I have been meaning to give you,” he said, slowly taking a step forward, then another.

  My chest tightened as he stood before me, so close I could smell the mint on his breath, and the intoxicating richness that was just him.

  I swallowed. “Well, hurry up then,” I snapped.

  My urgency was more out of the danger of being completely drugged by his presence, folding to his words and charm. I could feel my resolve melting, and what was worse was the cocky gleam in his eyes that showed me he knew it.

  “I just wanted to give you something to remember me by,” he said, slowly closing the distance. I instinctively closed my eyes, waiting for his lips to brush against mine. So when he gently took my hand instead, and turned my palm upwards, I was surprised. I was distracted by the fact there was no kiss, and by the other fact he had placed something in my hand. I opened my eyes; I slowly lifted the object Ringer gave me. There, lying in the palm of my hand …

  The door handle to my Mazda?

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I said, the incredulous words flying from my mouth.

  Ringer mocked concern. “Oh no, you’re disappointed?”

  I shook my head, words failing me.

  Ringer straightened. “Wait a minute, what did you think you were getting from me?” he asked, amusement lining his features.

  My urge to throw the stupid handle as far as I could with rage was paramount, but seeing as I really did need it, I just crushed my fingers around it with a white-knuckled intensity instead, as I glared up at Ringer.

  “Nothing! I want nothing from you,” I said, turning to my car door. Ringer grabbed me by the arm and spun me around so fast my head was in a spin. He pushed me up against my car, all humour lost in the heat of his eyes as he cupped my face with his hands.

  “Nothing? Really?” he asked calmly, his breath whispering across my lips; my chest heaved at the unexpectedness of his touch.

  No, not nothing, never nothing, it would always be something with this infuriating man. He made me forget my demons by simply challenging me in ways my heart failed to understand, let alone my head. My head that was reeling from such a simple question.

  “Say you want nothing from me, say it like you mean it, and I will walk away.” His thumb skimmed teasingly over my bottom lip.

  I looked at him for a long moment, loving him, hating him; around and around again my emotions spiralled in a mesh of insanity, till the final twist settled in my mind and with a resounding force.

  I can’t stay here. The guilt will eat me alive. My parents’ censure is too overbearing. Ringer probably won’t stay, anyway. Not for me. What am I thinking? There is no reason to stay.

  I snapped my head to the side, refusing to look at him.

  I sensed the moment his shoulders melted; he pressed his head against my temple staying there for a long moment, his fingers gripping me so fiercely I knew there would be marks indented in my flesh. The heat of his skin was like a furnace scolding me with his touch, and just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, he let me go, turned, and walked away.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  RINGER

  Miranda’s silence was the equivalent of punching a hole in my chest.

  I wasn’t prepared for that when I had made my way across the drive fresh from a series of back slaps and ‘go get her’ well wishes from the boys. Rejection had not been at the forefront of my mind.

  I had been certain that even past the death-like stares, I could feel her body react to me. I should have just fucking kissed her instead of playing stupid games. But, it seems I was wrong about her. Fuck.

  Her hair smelt like vanilla, her skin so soft under my hands, I didn’t want to let her go. I wanted to grasp her so tightly and never not know what it felt like to touch her skin. To have her by my side. I savoured the memories of her, before working up enough courage. I finally broke away.

  Walking a resolute line back to the huts, I was determined to pass them as far as I could go, to save listening to the sounds of her beat-up Mazda, to hum and moan out of my life, and into the distance. Away. From. Me.

  But only a few steps into my journey, I felt the sudden thud of something hitting me between the shoulder blades. I turned around, my eyes dipping to where something had fallen.

  What the?

  My incredulous eyes lifted to where Miranda was standing by her car. From the very vantage point she had just turfed the door handle at me. I bent down to pick it up, examining it with a questioning look her way.

  Tears welled in her eyes; she looked mad as hell. I didn’t know whether I should comfort her or run.

  She shook her head. “Why can’t I just hate you?” she bit out in a sob.

  My heart raced as I slowly stood. “Well, I would like to think it’s because I am so irresistible?”

  Miranda’s watery eyes looked up at me as I moved to stand within touching distance. “You’re an idiot,” she said.

  I smiled; somehow the insult was like music to my ears. “They say opposites attract.”

  Miranda sniffed. “So what does that make me?”

  “A genius.”

  Miranda rolled her eyes.

  “Any girl who could nearly run me over, flip me off, tell me to eff off, drench me in cold water, stomp on my foot, push me in a dam, rip my favourite jeans, make me carry her handbag, attack me in my sleep, force me to hide under a car … and yet, still manages to make me fall in love with her?”

  I was met by a catatonic stare of disbelief, and then like some form of magic, as my words slowly sunk in, a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

  “Well, I must be a genius then,” she said.

  This time with no gimmick, I took her hand, laced my fingers with hers. “You’re more than that. You’re the most beautiful, infuriating person I have ever met in my life, and you may not want anything from me, but I want everything from you.”

  Miranda shook her head ever so slightly. She sobered and said on a whisper, “But I have nothing to give.”<
br />
  I pulled her into my arms. Only when her hands fisted into my shirt did I let the sensation of hope flood through me. I cupped her chin to lift her face to mine. “You’re more than enough.” And before she could argue the fact, I silenced her with a kiss, robbing her of all breath until she melted in my arms.

  The sound of catcalls and cheers sounded from the shearers’ huts. There stood our own little personal cheer squad; Miranda broke our kiss, laughing and blushing crimson.

  “About bloody time.” Sean jumped off the deck and strode towards the house. “Who knew The Bold and the Beautiful was alive and well in Ballan.”

  Stan poked his head out from one of the rooms. “Is it over?”

  “Yes,” threw Chris over his shoulder.

  “Oh, thank God, I’m starving.” He followed the others down the steps.

  With each passing mate there was a hard slap on the back, Chris’s the hardest of them all. “Hurry up, lover boy; I like my eggs sunny side up.” He winked at Miranda.

  Miranda raised her brows at me. “They are leaving, right?”

  I sighed. “Even if I have to open every bloody gate myself.”

  Epilogue

  Three weeks later

  RINGER

  The irony was not lost on me, as I stood outside the women’s changing cubicle in Onslow’s only women’s fashion boutique.

  Oh, how my life had changed.

  Miranda’s head poked through the opening of the curtain. “Ringer, can you grab me a navy of the same, please?”

  Off I would go without a care in the world, skimming the clothes racks. I could see the smug, knowing eyes of the shop assistant lady watching me, but I didn’t care. Against my better judgement, I was happy; even though the idea had been to merely drop in to replace the cardigan I admittedly ruined back in Ballan, it had escalated into a fashion parade. Not that I minded, having permission to run your eyes over your girlfriend’s attire was a bonus; I mean, you had to look at the bright side. The curtains flung back and Miranda stepped out wearing a red knee-length, figure-hugging dress; she moved from side to side in the mirror.

  I cleared my throat, trying to distract myself from my devilish thoughts. “So when do Steve and Penny hit town?”

  “Tonight; they’re picking Moira up from her girlfriend’s house on the way.”

  “Look out Onslow.” I laughed.

  Miranda sighed. “I can’t wait to see them.” Biting her bottom lip in deep thought, she studied her reflection. “What do you think?”

  I stood behind her, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “I think we need to get out of here so I can show you what I think.”

  Miranda’s blush almost matched her dress.

  We left Carters, with bags hooked over both of our wrists. Miranda pulled me up short. “Thank you,” she said, brushing her lips against mine.

  I looked down into her greeny-blue eyes that sparkled with appreciation.

  Christ, I was a goner.

  “RINGO JAMES?”

  My blood ran cold; paused mid-step, I slowly turned around, only to be faced with a living nightmare.

  Sean Murphy swaggering down the street. “I thought it was you.” His eyes flicked to our bags. “What are you two up to?”

  “Oh, we just smashed Carters.” Miranda held up her bags with glee.

  “You don’t say?” Sean’s brows rose.

  I discreetly mouthed: fuck off.

  I straightened, feigning innocence, when Miranda turned to me. “Ringer said it was the place to go.”

  “It’s the only place to go,” I mumbled under my breath. At least Mrs C didn’t set us up with an account.

  “Well, don’t let me stop you.” Sean slapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t forget to take your woman to Total Bliss for a beauty treatment.” He flashed a knowing smile.

  I couldn’t help but smirk as I watched the smug bastard walk across the road.

  Miranda elbowed me. “What’s wrong?”

  I tore my eyes away from Sean’s retreating back to face her questioning eyes.

  I could see now why my friends’ lives had changed so dramatically as a result of having the love of a good woman. Miranda hadn’t told me she loved me, but I know she does. She shows me with her body, but those eyes tell me the real story.

  “In all honesty?”

  She nodded, worry etching her brow.

  I kissed the worry lines, feeling them melt and smoothen under my lips; drawing back I looked earnestly into her beautiful face and smiled.

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  If love is friendship set on fire, wait till you read Adam and Ellie’s story.

  You see there’s this boy.

  He makes me smile, forces me to listen, serenades me out of tune and keeps me sane, all the while driving me insane. He's really talented like that. But for the first time in since, well, forever, things are about to change. The question is, how much am I willing to lose in order to potentially have it all?

  Acknowledgements

  Much love to my amazing husband, Mick, for being the beautiful part of my reality and supporting me in all I do; I know it’s not easy but I wouldn’t want to share it with anyone else.

  I am blessed with such a talented hard-working team; these ladies always go above and beyond for me. A special thanks to: Sascha Craig, Marion Archer, Anita Saunders and Keary Taylor.

  Many thanks to my formatters Karen Phillips, Emily Mah Tippetts.

  Always grateful for the love and support of my friends and family, especially Mum, Kevin, Dad, Daniel and Leanne.

  My fellow authors for their inspiration, support and friendship: Frankie Rose, Jessica Roscoe, Lilliana Anderson, Keary Taylor. I adore you ladies and would be truly lost without our daily chats.

  To my fierce ‘Team Duggan’ warriors, for your unwavering support and enthusiasm. For always spreading the word and fighting the good fight to help put the Summer Series out there for the masses. I feel incredibly privileged to have each and every one of you on my team and in my life – thank you.

  A special thank you to Marion Archer from Making Manuscripts. For being the most lovely, helpful editor any author could ever hope for. I cannot thank you enough for your support and guidance, but most of all your friendship. You will never know how you have changed my life as a writer; you give me the freedom and time with your amazing turnovers and attention to detail. I feel truly blessed to have found you. (Love you, Bette.)

  To all the bloggers, reviewers, readers who have enjoyed and shared the Summer Series. For taking something away from the story, for loving and embracing the characters. In a world that is often dark enough, it has been an absolute pleasure injecting it with a bit of sunshine.

  About the Author

  C.J Duggan is a Number One Best Selling Australian Author who lives with her husband in a rural border town of New South Wales, Australia. When she isn’t writing books about swoony boys and 90s pop culture you will find her renovating her hundred-year-old Victorian homestead or annoying her local travel agent for a quote to escape the chaos.

  The Boys of Summer is Book One in her highly

  successful, Mature Young Adult Romance Series.

  *While each title can be read as a stand-alone story, you will likely enjoy the journey with these characters from the beginning.

  The 'Summer Series'

  The Boys of Summer (December 2012)

  An Endless Summer (July 2013)

  That One Summer (December 2013)

  Ringer (March 2014)

  Forever Summer (July 2014)

  Follow C.J on her website: www.cjdugganbooks.com

  Sign up here for C.J’s newsletter.

 

 

 
o-filter: grayscale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share