Page 60 of Ghosts Don't Cry

“I could help with that.” Amy’s hand finds his forearm again. “I’ve got excellent taste in furniture … amongst other things.”

My mind is screaming at me to move away, and leave them to their flirting. I should do anything except stand here and watch while he lets them compete for his attention. I force myself to take a step backward, and his eyes lock onto mine again. This time they hold while Amy presses closer, and Kate trails her fingers down his arm.

He watches me while I watch them, and the half-smile on his lips turns darker.

“We're getting drinks at The Flamingo tonight,” Amy says, her voice dropping lower. “It used to be Sullivans, but it’s under new management. They have much better cocktails now. You should join us.”

“It could be fun.” Kate’s agreement comes with another deliberate brush against him. “Let us show you how much the town has changed.”

“Maybe another time.” He’s still not looking at them, and I can’t breathe past the intensity of his stare as it bores into me.

“At least take my number.” Amy pulls out a receipt, and scribbles on it with a pen from her purse. “For when you’re not so busy playing handyman in that big house all alone.”

“And mine.” Kate produces her own paper, and snatches the pen. “I can give you a proper tour of … the town.”

He takes both numbers without looking at them, folds them once, and slips them into his pocket. I remember doing that in high school. I’d slip notes into his locker, his textbooks, his jacket pocket when he wasn’t looking. Carefully folded pieces of paper with quotes and scribbles on them.

He’d fold them the same way, and tuck them away. And now he’s doing it with their numbers, right in front of me.

That’s the moment Amy seems to realize he’s looking at something that isn’t her. Her head turns, following his gaze.

“Lily!” Her smile sharpens. “Look who we found. He cleans up nice, doesn’t he?”

His expression changes instantly. The played-up tolerance vanishes, and the lines of his face harden.

“We were just convincing him to come out tonight.” Kate’s voice drips sweetness. “You should join us. For old times’ sake.”

“I have plans.” I force the words out between frozen lips.

“Your loss.” Amy’s hand smooths down Ronan’s arm. “More for us.”

She knows. God, she knows exactly what she’s doing. This isn’t about Ronan being attractive to her now. It’s about proving she can take what was mine.

While she stares at me, Ronan steps forward.

“Time for me to go.” He strides toward me so fast, I can’t get out of his way quick enough, and his shoulder brushes mine as he passes. The contact lasts for less than a second, and it sends sparks through my whole body. He disappears around the corner and doesn’t look back.

“Well.” Amy’s smile slips once he’s out of sight. “I do love a man that plays hard to get. It makes things a lot more fun.”

“Did you see how the muscles in his arm flexed when I touched him?” Kate sighs. “So delicious.”

“Please.” Amy’s voice drips with disdain. “Like you’d know what to do with him if you caught him.”

I abandon my cart, unwilling to listen to anything more they have to say. Their laughter follows me down the aisle, mixing with whispers from other shoppers as I hurry past.

Outside, the October wind bites through my jacket. I ignore it, my hands shaking as I fumble with my keys. They slip through my fingers once, twice, clattering onto the ground.

“Fuck.” The word comes out broken.

Movement catches my eye, and I turn in time to see Ronan coming to a stop beside a Honda, grocery bags in one hand. I pray to every god that I have heard of that he gets in and drives away without seeing me. Instead he turns, and looks right at me.

The mask is gone. The performance for an audience over. There’s just him looking at me across ten feet of parking lot, and memories of how his hands felt in my hair, how my body fit against his when he pinned me to the wall fill my mind.

My lips part. I don’t know what I’m going to say. Maybe nothing, maybe everything. My tongue darts out to wet my lower lip, and his eyes drop, following the movement. For one second, I think he might come over to me. Then he turns away, gets into his car, and drives away.

I stand there, frozen, keys finally gripped in my shaking hand, and watch him reverse out of his parking spot. I stay where I am until his taillights disappear around the corner, and only then do I climb into my car. The key misses the ignition twice before I manage to slot it in. I don’t turn it straight away. I just sit there, staring at nothing.

My forehead drops to the steering wheel, and behind my closed eyes, I see it all again. Amy’s hand on his arm, Kate pressing her body into him, his eyes burning into mine the entire time.