Chapter Twenty-Six
Rowan
Bridget reminds me so much of myself. Apart from her sister, no one has ever taken the time to make her a priority or show her how valuable she is.
I’m sure her teachers are kind enough to her at school, but the only time she gets individual attention is when she’s causing trouble.
The only difference between us is that I had an outlet for my anger.
“What does your sister like?” I ask Alicia as we sit cozied up on her sofa.
She’s nestled into my side, legs bent underneath her, fingers tracing the tattoos on my arm. I’ll take her in whatever form I can get her, but this right here might be my favorite. That hard exterior she usually keeps up is soft and relaxed. Her mouth has had the hint of a smile all day.
“What do you mean?” Alicia asks, tilting her head to peer up at me.
Christ, those eyes. I’m bleeding obsessed with them. They hold some kind of power over me that I can’t explain. What I’d like to do is toss her over my shoulder and head back to her bed, but it’s important that she knows this is more than just sex.
“What interests her? Does she have hobbies?”
Her forehead creases as she thinks. “She likes music and…well, I don’t really know. Communication isn’t really our forte these days.”
“Let’s find out, shall we?” I ask, jumping up from the sofa.
Alicia laughs. “What are you doing?”
“I’m goin’ to ask her, obviously.” Giving her a cheeky grin, I walk backward down the short hallway.
“Good luck!” She calls after me, shaking her head at my antics.
I knock softly three times and wait before knocking louder. After a beat, the door cracks open and Bridget’s green eyes change from annoyed to shock.
“Um, hi?”
“What do you do for fun?” I ask.
“Why?”
Shrugging, I say, “Curious, is all.”
There’s a long pause before she narrows her eyes. “Why?”
Bleedin’ hell, these Petersen women don’t make things easy.
“Look,” I fire back, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m planning on being around for the foreseeable future, so it makes sense that I get to know you better. I’m not asking for your darkest secrets. I just want to know what you do for fun.”
Bridget peeks around me, so I follow her gaze to see Alicia shrugging.
“For Christ’s sake,” I mutter. “Alright, that’s it. We’re going to play a game. Come on.”
“But I don’t like games.”
Sighing heavily, I rub my forehead before squaring my shoulders. “Half an hour. Give me half an hour of your time, and then you can go back to your room, yeah?”
There’s nothing quite as daunting a teenage girl’s stare. I don’t have a lot of experience with teens, but I thought they were supposed to be overly emotional. Bridget’s face is blank, only her eyes giving away anything, and it’s mostly annoyance. Finally, she nods.
“Fine. Thirty minutes.”
I throw my arms in the air like I’ve just scored a goal as she walks past me to the living room. “Yes! It’ll be fun, promise.”
Alicia snorts. “Depends on the game.”
“Ach, I make everything fun and you know it.” She returns my wink with an eye roll.
Bridget sinks into the over-sized armchair close to the couch and pulls her knees up to her chest. “What are we playing?”
“Would You Rather,” I announce proudly, resuming my position next to Alicia.
She turns to glare at me. “Are you out of your mind? I’ve seen the way you play that game, and I’m not about to let you corrupt my little sister.”
I clutch my chest dramatically. “You wound me! I’ve never corrupted a soul in all my life.”
She pokes me in the side. “That’s debatable.”
Pressing my lips to her ear, I murmur, “Careful, darlin’. That mouth is going to get you into trouble.”
“Ew,” Bridget exclaims. “What are you saying to her that’s making her blush like that? No, on second thought, I don’t want to know, but if this is how the game is going to go, I’m out.”
Alicia’s elbow connects with my ribs, making me chuckle.
“Fine, fine. I’ll behave,” I promise. “Now, I’ll go first, yeah?”
Both lasses nod their consent and I lean forward, planting my elbows on my knees. “Bridget, would you rather read a book or watch a movie?”
“Movie,” she answers quickly. “My ADHD makes it hard for me to focus on books.”
I nod, keeping my face schooled, but I’m actually surprised she admitted that. “Aye, that makes sense. Now, your turn.”
“Um,” she starts, picking at the frayed edges of the hole in the knee of her jeans. “Li, would you rather eat sushi or Thai food every day of your life?”
Alicia groans. “That’s not a fair question!”
Bridget giggles.
“Fine, if I have to pick, I’m going with sushi.”
Interesting. Did not expect that.
This game serves two purposes: get Bridget to open up and for me to learn more about both of them.
Turning, I wink at Alicia. “Alright, love, your turn.”
* * *
Alicia
“Would you rather play soccer…“
There are a million questions I could ask, but the only one in my brain right now is, “Would you rather play soccer professionally or stay in Wilmington with me?”.
It’s not a fair question, and it’s not fair of me to even consider it.
He’s earned his spot with CFC, and is a damn good player, but when he told my sister that he planned on being around for the foreseeable future, I felt almost giddy.
Until I realized that regardless of what Rowan Gallagher says, his actions are what speak louder.
He’s never been in a relationship with anyone and travels all over the country where the opportunities for meaningless hookups are endless.
He’ll get bored and realize that monogamy while on the road isn’t what he wants, so he’ll ditch me.
Which is understandable, because I’m not a pleasant person the majority of the time. I’m not warm and welcoming.
He looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to finish my question. I don’t want to spoil this moment he’s created with Bridget, so instead I ask, “Ro, would you rather play soccer or drink Guinness?”
He falls against the back of the couch and laughs like I’ve told the funniest joke. “Ah, love, I can do both at the same time. Give me a pint and a ball and I’ll get it in the net while I’m drinking.”
Rolling my eyes, I extend my legs over his lap, making sure to subtly rub my foot right over his dick, which makes him shut up fast. His hand clamps around my ankle in warning as he glares at me. I bat my lashes innocently.
“That’s not how the game works,” I remind him. “If I can’t have both sushi and Thai food, you can’t have both soccer and Guinness.”
Ro drops his head and groans then begins absently rubbing my feet. “If I had to choose, I guess I’d pick football. I’m not after becoming an alcoholic, which would undoubtedly happen if I had to give it up.”
My heart sinks.
“Bridget, your turn.” He nods in her direction. “Would you rather play a sport or do something in the arts?”
Looking over, I watch my sister’s brow furrow as she ponders her answer. I’m anxious for her response because this is something I don’t know about her that I should.
Finally, she answers. “Play a sport. I watch the soccer team practice after school sometimes and it looks kind of fun.”
Who is this kid?
“Atta girl,” Ro says proudly. “I bet Eamon—or Mr. Kennedy, rather—would let you do some drills with the team.”
She’s already shaking her head. “No way. I don’t know anything about it, so I’m not about to make myself look stupid in front of the boys’ soccer team.”
The look of absolute horror on her face is comical, like she was asked to parade around naked in front of them rather than kick a ball.
Rowan rubs his thumb and forefinger down the length of his beard. “Right. I’ll teach you then. If you want to, that is.”
“Really?” Bridget’s voice is laced with shock.
“Aye.” He nods. “Whenever I’m in town, we can start with the basics. Just let me know when you’re ready.”
She beams at him before schooling her face into nonchalance. “Yeah, okay. I’ll think about it.”
“Think about it while you’re asking your sister the next question.” He presses his thumb into the arch of my foot. I bite back a moan. “And make it a good one. Something she doesn’t like to share, but isn’t really a secret.”
Her eyes twinkle, and I know what’s coming.
“You’re going to regret this,” I promise both of them.
“Li,” Bridget sing-songs.
I yank my foot out of Ro’s hands and practically leap from the sofa. “Don’t do it. If you’ve ever loved me at all, you will not ask me what I know you’re about to ask.”
“Don’t worry, lass. I’ll protect you from her. Go ahead,” he croons.
Scowling, I grab a throw pillow and toss it in his face. He just laughs and tosses it back at me.
“Would you rather,” my sister begins.
“No.”
“Listen to…”
I turn to scowl at her. “Bridget Nicole Petersen, this is your last warning.”
Hands yank my hips and I fall into Ro’s lap. He quickly locks his arms around me, and I’m helpless to escape, but I give it my best effort, shrieking and thrashing like a rabid animal.
“Shite, it’s like trying to wrangle a hellcat.” Ro grunts when I bite down on his arm. “Alright, that’s enough of that.”
Next thing I know he’s flipped me onto my stomach over his legs and brings a hand down on my ass.
I gasp loudly and Bridget cackles.
“Rowan whatever-your-middle-name-is Gallagher, I’m going to kill you!”
“No, you won’t.” He chuckles darkly. “Now, behave before I do it again.”
For a millisecond the rage dissolves into lust, and I nearly whimper. I’m not submissive by nature, but thinking of being a good girl for Ro is suddenly very alluring.
“And it’s Conor.”
“What is?” I snap, attempting to free myself from his hold, while Bridget just keeps laughing.
“My middle name,” he grunts when my elbow connects with stomach.
When I wiggle again, he loosens his grip and helps me to my feet before pulling me back down on his lap. Rather than fighting him this time, I relax against his chest, enjoying the satisfied sigh he exhales against my temple.
“Rowan Conor Gallagher. I like it,” I tell him. “Very Irish.”
He snorts in response.
“Alicia,” Bridget says sharply, and I whip my eyes in her direction. “Quick, *NSYNC or Backstreet Boys?”
A choked sound leaves my throat, and I lunge for her before Ro even has a chance to register what’s happening. Bridget screams at the top of her lungs and tries to scramble out of the chair, but I land on top of her, pinning her down.
“You’re so dead!” I screech as I start tickling her sides. “I hope you pee your pants, you little brat!”
“Get off me! Help!”
“There’s no one to save you now!” Whipping my head toward Ro who’s slowly advancing in our direction, I snarl, “Don’t even think about it.”
He lifts his hands in defense and backs up a step. “Alright. Sorry, Bridget lass.”
“Traitor!” She yells, making him laugh. “I thought we were friends!”
I don’t let up until she’s red-faced and gasping for breath.
Even then, I’m still sitting on her, staring daggers into her skull.
I can’t believe she spilled my guilty obsession to Rowan.
It’s not really a huge deal, just embarrassing since I’m the last person anyone would suspect of not only listening to boy bands, but being enamored by them. Well, not them, just one.
Ro approaches and folds his arms across his chest. “Spill.”
At the same time I give a firm no, Bridget sings, “*NSYNC!”
I make to attack her once more, but Ro scoops me up, throws me over his shoulder like I’m nothing more than a bag of cat food, slaps my ass again, then turns on his heel to stalk down the hall.
“Put your headphones on, Bridget,” he calls out.
The last thing I see before entering my room is my little sister’s appalled face slowly transform into a grin.