Page 89

SHE’S JUST A FRIEND, I SWEAR

Hugh

MARCH 17, 2000

“M AKE HER STOP ,” F EELY GROANED, COVERING HIS HEAD WITH A PILLOW . “P LEASE , Hugh, I can’t take another loop of that fucking song.”

Neither could I.

We’d been playing PS1 for just under an hour, and already, I’d counted fifteen loops of NSYNC’s “Bye Bye Bye.”

“Claire saw the music video playing on MTV and hasn’t stopped trying to master the dance routine since,” I explained, tapping on the controller in my hand. “You know how she fixates on things, lad. Look at Gibs.”

“Well, if she doesn’t hurry the hell up and master it, I’m going to Van Gogh myself.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” I chuckled, shaking my head. “Eejit.”

“You’ll see drama when I chop my fucking ears off,” Feely warned, tossing his controller aside. “There’s no point. I can’t concentrate on the game.”

“It’s not that bad,” I replied, tossing my controller aside now that he had given up. I couldn’t play two-player without him. “It’s better than her ‘My Heart Will Go On’ phase.”

“Jesus, don’t remind me.” Feely shuddered. “Your sister ruined that film for me. I couldn’t even enjoy Rose’s tits in peace.”

“Lad.” I threw my head back and laughed. “She wasn’t that special.”

“You’re mental,” he argued, narrowing his eyes. “That woman was pure perfection in the film. Every part of her. Especially her hair.”

I snorted. “Especially her tits, you mean.”

Feely grinned. “Those, too.”

“You know who has great tits?” I mused. “Sharon Stone.”

“True,” he replied in a thoughtful tone, clearly weighing up both options. “But you can’t beat a redhead with a perky rack.”

“Now you’re being mental,” I argued back, eyeballing him. “Sharon Stone, lad. Sharon fucking Stone .” I held my hands up for emphasis. “Come on, Feely, you have to admit the blond wins every time.”

“Like hell she does,” he grumbled. “Kate Winslet as a redhead is unquestionably stunning.”

“Fine, you take Kate, and I’ll take Sharon.”

“Fine.” He nodded in acceptance. “I will.”

“Good.” I returned his nod with one of my own. “Glad that’s cleared up.”

It was at the precise moment that “Bye Bye Bye” started up again on the other side of my bedroom wall.

“I’m sorry, Hugh,” Feely grumbled, stalking toward the door. “I really am, but I’m going to throttle that curly-haired menace!”

Snickering, I followed him, knowing full well he would do the complete opposite.

Claire had all the lads wrapped around her baby finger.

Of course, they’d all rather swallow glass than admit it, but they were kittens when it came to my sister.

“What did you do to him!” Feely demanded, clearly outraged, as he stood in Claire’s bedroom doorway with his mouth hanging open. “Gibs! Stop that right now, ya hear!”

Dare I look?

Like, honestly?

Is it going to leave a permanent scar?

Primed for pain, I joined my best friend in my sister’s doorway and quickly repeated his previous sentiments. “What did you do to him?”

Gaping in horror at the scene unfolding before my eyes, I watched as Gibs, Claire, and Liz performed that bloody dance routine in perfect sync with each other.

Both girls were caked in makeup, sprouting pigtails and wearing matching pink vests.

Worse, they had groomed Gibsie to within an inch of his life.

His blond curls?

Yeah, they were bunched together in two stumpy pigtails on either side of his head, while the pink vest he was sewn into stretched at the seams in protest.

“Guys, look!” Squealing with excitement, Claire gestured to their dance routine. “We finally nailed it.”

“You are in Ireland,” I reminded them, lips twitching. “Not Hollywood.”

“And you are in sixth class,” Feely added, speaking directly to our classmate, who clearly couldn’t give two shits that we’d caught him dancing with the girls.

That’s when the big ape pushed past the girls and took front and center to mime the high notes of the song.

Fisting the air with enthusiasm, Gibs sang his heart out, while executing the dance routine better than all of them.

When they finished their performance, Claire and Gibs both took dramatic bows, while Liz flopped down on the bed in a fit of laughter.

Unable to hide my amusement, I gave in and clapped for the three stooges, while Feely hauled ass toward the Barbie stereo system and swiftly yanked the plug out of the wall.

“Hey,” Claire huffed. “Who said you could touch my stereo!”

“Yeah,” Gibs chimed in defensively. “Who said you could touch her stereo?”

“God told me,” Feely replied drolly.

“No, he didn’t.”

“And he also told me to remind you that you are too fucking old to be playing dress up with girls!”

“No, I’m not.”

“Gibs, you’re twelve!”

Ignoring their exchange, I made a beeline for the girl sitting on my sister’s bed.

Christ, it was so damn good to see her laughing. She hadn’t been doing a whole lot of it lately.

The new millennium had hit my girlfriend’s family like a wrecking ball, but unlike my father, who buried his head in the sand, Lizzie climbed out of bed every day and kept fighting. I couldn’t have been prouder of her. Most grown-ups didn’t possess a tenth of the tenacity and resilience Liz displayed on the daily.

“I can’t believe they roped me into that,” Liz cackled, still thoroughly amused. “When have you ever seen me wear pink?”

“When have you ever worn these?” I mused, playfully tugging on one of her pigtails.

“Oh my God, stop.” Her cheeks flushed bright pink. “I look like a dope.”

My lips twitched. “You look adorable.”

“Fine, I’m an adorable dope,” she shot back with a grin.

“No, those two right there are adorable dopes.” Resting on my elbow, I inclined my head to where Gibs and Claire were arguing with a flustered Feely. “ You are adorable.” I retrained my focus on her face. “Minus the dope part.”

Her blue eyes blazed with warmth. “I love that you think that about me.”

I just plain love you . “Stop looking at me like that, Liz.”

Clambering onto her knees, she shifted closer until there wasn’t an inch of space between us. “Like what?”

I bit back a groan. “You know what.”

Eyes twinkling with mischief, she cupped my ear and whispered, “You want to kiss me again, don’t you?”

Nodding my head, I clenched my eyes shut and strived for calm.

Be calm. Be calm. Be fucking calm, Hugh .

“Like you kissed me in the garden last week.” She continued to torment me with whispers. “Or like how you kissed me in the cupboard under the stairs.” Grinning mischievously, she pulled back to gauge my reaction. “Do you like kissing me, Hugh?”

I cast a nervous glance to our friends before nodding. “You know I do.”

“Hmm.” She discretely reached for my hand. “Then do it again.”

“When?” I croaked out, feeling way too much all at once.

She squeezed my hand and grinned. “Right now.”

Fuck .

“We can’t,” I muttered, feeling everything inside of my body coil tight. Jaw clenched, I gestured to my sister. While I had no problem telling Claire to go fuck herself, I knew Liz couldn’t take another blow out. “She’s right here .”

“Oh crap!” Liz gasped, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I left my phone in the treehouse!” She offered me a knowing wink before climbing off the bed and bolting for the door. “I’ll be right back, guys.”

She was so damn convincing, I almost believed her.

Almost .

Our friends didn’t bat an eyelid, too invested in their conversation to care about missing phones.

I managed to make it to the count of ten in my head before I sheepishly stood up, stretched my arms over my head, and then slowly walked out of the room.

Once I had the bedroom door closed behind me, I booked it down the staircase at lightning speed, not stopping until I reached the kitchen patio door, when my mother’s hand shot out and fisted the back of my T-shirt.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry, mister?”

“I, uh, I, uh…I, uh…”

“You, uh, uh, uh, what?” Mam mocked, hands on her hips. “You were sneaking off to the treehouse with your girlfriend, that’s what you were uh, uh, uh doing.”

Sadhbh, who was sitting at the kitchen table, burst out laughing, and my face flooded with heat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mam rolled her eyes. “Lie better, son.”

“I was going to help her find her phone,” I huffed, defensive. “Jesus, is that a crime now or something?”

“Ah, Sinead, go easy on him,” Gibsie’s mam chuckled. “Can’t you see the poor boy’s in the throes of puppy love?”

“She’s my friend ,” I lied through my teeth and argued, casting a mutinous glare in Sadhbh’s direction. “ Just a friend.”

Mam arched a brow. “Do you think I came down in the last shower?”

“Just a friend,” Sadhbh chuckled, thoroughly amused. “The lines never change over the years, do they, Sinead?”

“I swear,” I bit out, glowing red now. “I’m being a friend and helping her find her phone.”

“Hmm.” Mam clicked her tongue, eyes laced with suspicion. “Make sure that’s all you’re doing, young man.”

“It is,” I called over my shoulder, lying through my fucking teeth, as I yanked the sliding door open and bolted outside.

“What took you so long?” Liz asked when I reached the top step of the ladder. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“It’s my mam.” Red-faced, I climbed up the rest of the way and then quickly slipped inside, slamming the rickety door shut behind me. “She’s a menace.” Blowing out a frustrated breath, I sagged against the door at my back and groaned. “I think she knows.”

Liz arched a brow. “Knows?”

“Yeah.” Exhaling another breath, I nodded wearily. “About us.”

Her eyes twinkled with excitement. “What about us?”

“Come on, Liz,” I muttered, feeling another wave of heat attack my neck. I could hear my heart beating in my ears. It was thundering so loud, it was deafening. “You know.”

Snickering, she crawled toward me, not stopping until she was kneeling between my legs. “Now who’s the adorable-looking one?” Grinning, she reached up and stroked my cheek with her finger. “You’re blushing.”

Yeah, and it tended to happen when I was around her.

I reached up to move her hand but somehow my fingers ended up entwining with hers. Holding her hand always sent an electric shock through me and today was no different.

I flicked my eyes back to her face and found her already watching me with that familiar heated stare. “Liz.”

Her pupils got bigger when she whispered my name. “Hugh.”

“Do you want to talk for a bit?” I offered, trying to be supportive but already knowing her answer. “About how you’re feeling about your Mam being away at treatment?”

She shook her head. “Talking is the last thing I want to do.”

“Are you sure?” I probed, not taking it to heart because I knew her better than I knew myself, and when things got rough, she preferred to soldier on, instead of exploring her feelings.

Liz shifted closer. “One hundred percent.”

Jesus, the anticipation was killing me because I knew it would happen, I knew she would kiss me, and when she did, it wouldn’t be enough.

The kiss would end and then I would drive myself crazy with thoughts of her until it happened again. And then again. And then again and again .

I knew deep down that I was never going to be able to get enough of this girl, and that was a terrifying concept. Knowing she held so much power over me made it hard to breathe.

When she leaned in close and her familiar scent infiltrated my senses, I made peace with the knowledge that I was a lost cause. That I couldn’t be cured of my addiction to this girl. That I would forever seek her out.

When she said, “Kiss me,” I didn’t hesitate.

Closing the space between our mouths, I pressed my lips to hers.

It was just a kiss.

An innocent kiss.

Nothing more.

But it meant so much more .

Because it felt like I was signing off on a permanent decision.