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STOLEN BURGERS AND KISSES

Hugh

DECEMBER 31, 2003

T ONIGHT WAS N EW Y EAR’S E VE, AND I HAD, ONCE AGAIN, BEEN COERCED BY THE LADS to go on the lash with them. I’d been dreading it all week because this year’s one would mark the first in a decade that I wouldn’t be spending with Liz.

I missed her so fucking much, I couldn’t breathe, and no amount of anything could make it better.

I’d been dreading going out tonight but was pleasantly surprised when Feely suggested we head across town to the disco BCS was throwing at the GAA Pavilion.

Surrounded by mostly strangers, it was a hell of a lot easier to loosen up and enjoy myself. Oh, and the naggin of vodka we each necked in the bushes beforehand hadn’t hurt matters, either.

Pissed as a fart, I’d stumbled around the pavilion for most of the night with my three best friends, sometimes dancing but mostly warding off girls.

Johnny, on the other hand, had been lured behind the curtains at the back of the hall by the female security guard , who I could only presume, was following through on her promise of blowing his world .

Meanwhile, Gibs was too busy falling in love with himself to give anyone else a second glance, while Feely had his eye on a cute, little redhead on the dance floor.

“Goddamn, I’m something else,” Gibsie declared, gliding across the dance floor to “Pony” like he was the love child of Snoop Dogg and John Travolta. “The big man upstairs spared no expenses when he made Gerard Gibson, I tell ya.”

Gibs was the best dancer in the county, and the fucker knew it. It didn’t matter what music was playing, the snake-hipped flanker had the perfect moves for every beat.

“If you were a cake, you’d eat yourself, Gibs.”

“Damn straight I would,” he wholeheartedly agreed, whipping off his shirt to flex his pecs. “Have you seen me?” Grinning, he kissed his bicep and rolled his hips like a damn porn star. “I’m fucking delicious.” And then he pulled out all the stops, dropping to the floor to perform the sluttiest worm move I’d ever seen.

The high-pitched sound of screaming girls was feral, as a horde of them surrounded Gibs, who was dry humping the floor better than any stripper.

“Let’s see him get out of this one,” Feely slurred, watching our friend get swallowed up by the mob.

Drunk, I leaned against the wall at my back for support, while Feely staggered toward me. “Lad, you’re worse than me,” I laughed when he started to lean to one side like the Tower of Pisa.

“Did ya get the shift yet, Hughie?” he slurred, resting a hip against the wall next to me.

“Not happening, Pa.” Drunk or not, I was nowhere near ready for that .

“Yeah, it fucking is,” Feely agreed, sidling up to my other. “It’s a done deal, lad.”

The DJ started the ten-second countdown to the New Year, and it caused a tsunami of pain to rise up inside me.

Fuck.

Liz .

“Ah, you’ll have a New Year’s kiss,” Feely pushed in a coaxing tone, gaze trained in on someone on the dance floor. “Come on, lad.” He dragged me onto the floor just as the DJ reached five in his countdown. “Scope out a girl and live a little.”

“Four, three, two, one…”

Bleary eyed, I watched as my friend staggered in the direction of the petite redhead he’d had his eyes on all night but was intercepted by a curvy brunette, who swept in and kissed him instead.

I watched as my friend momentarily froze before wrapping his arms around the brunette and reciprocating her kiss.

Ugh .

Christ .

Shaking my head, I turned away from the mauling only to be intercepted by the same tiny redhead.

“Whoa,” I managed to say about a millisecond before she pulled my face down to hers and crashed her lips to mine.

Holy fuck .

My immediate reaction was to jerk away, knowing that foreign lips had no business on mine, but then I remembered that my lips didn’t belong to anyone.

Breathing hard, I kept my hands on the redhead’s shoulders to keep her at bay, while I tried to clear my thoughts.

“Please kiss me,” she begged, fisting the front of my shirt as she pushed up on tiptoes. It wasn’t an aggressive move. It was a desperate one. “ Please .”

Big, green eyes shone up at me, looking just as uncertain as I felt.

In fact, her eyes looked like they were close to spilling tears.

Jesus .

I had no clue what it was, but something about this girl’s eyes had me nodding slowly.

Relief flashed in her eyes, and she tipped her chin up to meet mine.

And then, for the first time in my life, I kissed a girl who wasn’t named Lizzie Young.

The kiss wasn’t mind-blowing.

It wasn’t fireworks.

It wasn’t Liz.

But it was nice.

“I can’t figure out if you’re waiting with me out of choice or pity,” the redhead, whose name I’d learned was Katie, mused after the disco, as we sat on the footpath outside the building. “Because, as grateful as I am to you for saving me back there, I don’t think my pride can take another knock tonight.”

Her words drifted through the fog in my head, and my eyes snapped to attention. “Huh?”

Her cheeks turned red. “Never mind.”

Catching the end of her ramble, I arched a brow and asked, “Why would I be here out of pity?”

She shrugged. “Just know that you saved me from making a massive fool of myself.”

“By kissing you?”

“Trust me, Hugh.”

“Fair enough.”

“Case won’t even remember his name,” she sighed, gesturing to the wall our friends were getting off behind. “This is what she does.”

“You don’t approve?”

She shook her head again. “I love her, but that’s not how I live.”

When she began to shiver, I automatically reached for my jacket. Unzipping it, I shrugged it off and draped it over her shoulders.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“I’ll give it back to you at school next week.”

My brows rose in surprise. “You go to school with me?”

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel seen.”

“No, it’s not like that…”

“It’s okay. I’m joking.” She smiled. “I’m in the year below you guys.”

She was in third year. “Since when?”

“I transferred from St. Bernadette’s post primary at the beginning of term.” Shrugging her narrow shoulders, she tightened her hold on my jacket. “I’m on scholarship.”

Now, I was intrigued. “What’s your poison?”

“Music.” She blushed again. “What’s yours?”

“Physics,” I replied with an apologetic smile. “With a side of chemistry.”

“Oh, so you’re that kind of boy.” She winked knowingly. “You’re a swot.”

I arched a brow. “No offense, but you must be a fair bit of a swot yourself to snag yourself a scholarship.”

“Yep, I’m one of the lucky six,” she replied with a sigh. “Go me, huh?”

“Why haven’t I seen you at school before?”

She smiled. “Maybe after tonight, you will.”

“How are you getting home?”

“Casey’s older than me,” she replied, pointing to the wall again. “One of her friends will drive me home.”

“Where’s home?”

“A long way from yours.” She grinned before adding, “Rich boy.”

My brows shot up. “What makes you think I’m rich?”

“Uh, maybe because I’ve been in your house,” she laughed with an eye roll. “Avoca Greystones is a long way from Rosewood.”

“Hold up.” I tilted my head to study her. “When were you in my house?”

“Your birthday party,” she replied, smirking. “Case and I both were.” She pointed to her friend again. “Feely invited us.”

“Feely.”

“Yep. We’re both in the school choir.”

“No shit.” I scratched my jaw, not terribly surprised to learn Feely was in the choir. “You’re the special buddy from music club?” I teased, putting two and two together. “Or should I say his bed buddy?”

“Never in his wildest dreams,” Katie snapped back, gesturing to where Feely was clearly getting it on with her friend. “She’s his bed buddy. Clearly .”

“Sorry,” I muttered, shaking my head. “That was a really rude, not to mention really fucked-up, thing to say to a girl.”

“It’s okay,” she chuckled, nudging my shoulder with hers. “I forgive you.”

“Are you warm enough?” I asked, noticing her shiver.

“You’re a really nice person,” she mused, looking up at me with those big, green eyes. “Did you know that?”

“How’d you figure that one?”

“Just a feeling I have,” she replied, still smiling up at me. “I’m really glad I got to talk to you tonight.”

“Yeah,” I replied, brows furrowed. “Me, too.”

“What’s going on here?” Feely arrived out of the blue and demanded, as he tried to fix the buckle on his belt. “Well?”

“What does it look like?” Katie shot back in a sickly sweet voice, while she winked at me. “Hugh and I were making acquaintances.”

“Are ya all right, Pa?” I asked, feeling a swell of concern rise up inside me when I took in his agonized expression. I stood up and quickly checked him over. “You don’t look too good, lad.”

Before Feely could get a word out, Casey staggered toward us.

“Hey, you!” Stumbling toward me, she fisted my shirt and roughly pulled me toward her. “Where’s your phone?”

Frowning, I reached into my pocket and held it up.

“Thank you,” she chirped and then proceeded to squint and tap on the keypad, all the while swaying and staggering.

A few moments passed and a loud ping sounded from nearby.

“Casey,” Katie strangled out, looking mortified. “You did not just text me from Hugh’s phone.”

“I sure did, my sweet-cheeked fox.” She winked at her friend before casting a narrowed glance at me. “You.” She pointed a finger in my face. “Call my girl.” Her words were slurred, but she still oozed confidence. “Contrary to this”—she gestured to herself—“my Katie’s a good girl, ya hear? So don’t be getting notions about all of us southside girls.” She turned to Feely and winked provocatively. “Except for you, preppy.” Grinning, she reached up and patted his cheek. “You certainly know how to use what God generously gave you, don’t ya?”

“Oh God,” Katie groaned, physically retching. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Are you okay?” Feely asked, reaching out a hand to steady her, but she quickly smacked it away.

“Please don’t touch me with those hands,” Katie grimaced, jerking out of reach, and I honestly couldn’t blame her, not when we both knew where those fingers had been.

A car horn sounded then, followed by a lad shouting, “Let’s go, Devil-tits. Your chariot awaits ya.”

“That’s me,” Katie said and then quickly backtracked. “I’m mean that’s not me. I’m not Devil-Tits.” Her face turned almost as red as her hair. “Casey is Devil-Tits. I’m just a girl bumming a lift home in that car.”

“Yeah, I knew what you meant,” I chuckled.

“Well, thanks for everything.” She held her hand out. “It’s been a pleasure.”

“Yeah.” I accepted her handshake and smiled. “The pleasure was mine.”

“Delete it.”

“Delete what?”

“Her number.”

“Who are you on about?” I slurred, leaning against the side of the mobile chip van.

“Katie.”

“Who?”

“That girl back there.”

“Which one?”

“The redhead.”

I squinted, trying to think her face into memory only to fail and manifest blond hair and blue eyes instead. “Fuck, I love her so much.”

“You don’t even know her,” he snapped back, swaying as much as I was.

“What?” I gaped at him. “Are you mental? I’ve known her my entire life.”

He gaped right back at me, brows furrowed. “Who are you on about?”

“Liz!” I groaned pushing my hands through my hair. “Who the fuck else!”

“Oh.” He nodded in understanding. “Okay, good. Now, delete her number.”

“There’s no point, lad,” I groaned. “I’ve had her mobile number memorized since fifth class.” I hiccupped before adding, “And her landline number since first class.”

“No—”

“Hughie got the shift, Hughie got the shift,” Gibsie sang as he staggered and crashed against the leaning tower of Kav. “Good man yourself, Hugo Boss-man! I knew you could do it. It’s onwards and upwards from here, lad.”

Feely narrowed his eyes. “Who?”

“Who what?”

“Who’d you score with?”

“A corker of a redhead,” Kav filled in, joining us at the chipper. “Is she your old doll, Hughie? The one you’re always skipping training for? Jaysus, lad, no wonder you kept her hidden away from the team.”

I opened my mouth to tell Kav that he had the wrong fucking girl and would know that if he paid one iota of attention to his friends, but was distracted by the fist that smacked into the side of my nose.

“Ow!” I roared as my head twisted sideways and smacked off the metal siding of the chipper van. “What the hell was that in aid of?”

“You!” Feely roared. “Fucking you, Hughie!”

“What about me?” I demanded, beyond confused. “What in the name of Jesus did I do out of the way to you?”

“It’s always fucking you,” he slurred, shaking his head. “You always come fucking first.”

“Lad, I’m not the one who came tonight, so I don’t know why you’re getting stuck in me,” I tossed back. “I’m the virgin in this relationship. You’re the whore!”

“Jesus Christ! I am a whore,” Feely groaned, pushing his hands through his hair like I’d given him some brand-new information. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

“Why would I?” I demanded back, too confused and too fucking drunk for this conversation. “You never told me to stop you.”

“You’re my best fucking friend, asshole,” he snapped back. “I shouldn’t have to tell you.”

“Some best friend,” I shot back, rubbing my nose. “Domestic fucking battery, Feely.”

“Oh relax, pretty boy,” he sneered. “You’re still every inch the asshole girls fall for.”

“Now, now, don’t be fighting,” Gibs scolded, sliding between us to grab an order from the counter that he neither placed nor paid for. “We’re lovers, not fighters.”

“Hey! That’s my burger,” Feely grumbled. “And I’m not his anything.”

“Good,” I huffed, patting Gibs on the back. “Have fucking at it, Gibs.”

“Actually, I always come first,” Kav interjected, holding a finger up.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Feely demanded.

“You said Hughie always comes first when he doesn’t,” Kav explained. “Hughie comes second, and you come third.” Shrugging, he slurred, “Sorry, lad, but the clock doesn’t lie.”

Feely gaped at him. “Again, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Sprints,” Kav replied, looking confused. “Why? What are you talking about?”

“Yes,” I agreed, eyeballing the lunatic throwing slaps like Vinnie fucking Jones. “What are you talking about?”

“Trust you to bring up sport,” Feely snapped. “Jesus Christ, Johnny, can’t you turn your brain off for one night?”

“Don’t take that bleeding tone with me, asshole,” Kav snapped back.

“Hold on,” Gibs interrupted, holding his burger-clad hand up in outrage. “Why the fuck does your math make me come last , Jonathan?”

“Because you always come last, Gerard. Now be a good lad and inhale your stolen burger.”

“Fuck the lot of ye,” I grumbled, snatching up someone else’s order from the counter and stalking off, having had more than enough madness for one night. “I’m going to bed.”

“Whose bed?”

“My bed, assholes!” I called over my shoulder.

“Tell your sister I’ll be home later,” Gibs called after. “For my New Year’s kiss.”

“You keep your lips off my sister!”