Ronan
ronan
R ocks crunched under my tires as I pulled up to the duplex. Golden light poured through Willow’s open windows, and I didn’t need to get out of my truck to know she was blaring a Bob Dylan album.
I hated how much her taste in music didn’t annoy me.
Grabbing the paper bag from the passenger seat, I slid from the truck, clicking the lock button on my remote seven times. The horn honked over and over, and I cringed, wishing I didn’t have to do this. But I did. No matter how hard I fought against it, I didn’t have a choice.
I was exhausted—not a sleepy exhausted, but a bone-deep exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that seeped into my soul and made itself at home, like an unwanted guest. It never left, no matter the amount of rest I got.
The stairs creaked as I trudged up onto the porch, and I made a mental note to fix them before someone fell through and hurt themselves. It would likely be Trinity, seeing as she couldn’t breathe without hurting herself.
My gaze caught on the sea salt and dirt caked on the siding of the house. I needed to clean that too, but it would be an all-day job, and I didn’t have the time or energy right now. Music floated through the window like I knew it would. The scent of something cooking filled the air, making my mouth water. My stomach grumbled, and I turned a seething glance to the paper sack that housed my sad excuse of a dinner.
I needed to learn to cook, or at least run by Mom’s place more often so I could have a home-cooked meal every once in a while.
Shaking my head I went inside, switching the lock on the door seven times before shucking off my jacket. I hung it and my keys on their rightful hooks, then slid off my boots, leaving them on the rack by the door.
Every day was the same.
Sometimes it felt like I was on a never-ending hamster wheel. There had to be more to life than this.
My mind drifted back to my conversation with Trin yesterday. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, about what it would be like to come home to a house filled with warmth, and laughter, and love.
But I was too busy to date—too busy to even consider it. A part of me wanted to come home to a family, but getting to that point felt overwhelming.
Both of my brothers lived in New York, not that they ever saw or spoke to each other. My dad was dead, my sister was…how she was. And lately, Mom was more interested in town gossip than anything else.
I was lonely; I could admit that. But what could I do about it? Dating apps were out of the question for many reasons, and I didn’t know how to authentically connect with or meet anyone.
I went to The Taphouse every week with Trinity and her best friend, Brynne. Maybe I could find someone there? But the thought of talking to some townie I grew up with made my skin crawl. I’d seen almost every woman between the ages of twenty-four and thirty-five grow up.
I saw them through their awkward phases. I knew who they’d slept with. I knew who their families were and where they went to college. I already knew everything about them.
What was left to learn?
A deep breath filled my lungs as I checked the locks again, then flipped the light on, bathing my house in a stark white light. The layout was totally open, the living room, dining room, and kitchen all viewable from the front door. Every inch of my space was practical—nothing was there for comfort or decoration.
A chair because I needed somewhere to sit, a couch beside it for visitors. A lamp so I could see. A dining table to work and eat at. No barstools, because I had a dining table. Appliances, but just the necessities—fridge, stove, microwave, toaster, washer, dryer.
I had a bed of course, as well as a dresser and shoe rack—I wasn’t a savage. My guest room was just as plain as the rest of the house with nothing on the white walls, no rugs on the floor.
Maybe that’s what was missing?
Life.
As I made my way across the small space, I unbuttoned my uniform shirt and dropped it on the back of the couch, leaving me in my black undershirt. Sinking onto the chair at the head of the table, I unwrapped my burger and took a bite, cringing at the blandness of it. The fries were cold, so I had a few and tossed the rest. Maple Street Diner was delicious—or it used to be. Lola Carter, the new owner, was doing her best. But damn, it had gone downhill since her mother passed.
For years, I’d stopped there on the way home for dinner and it was always amazing. But as I ate the hockey puck between two buns, I seriously contemplated cooking classes. Thankfully, the meal was over quickly, and after tossing my trash, I checked that the microwave was unplugged and the stove was off.
Logically, I knew they hadn’t magically plugged in or turned on, but my mind told me I had to check—otherwise something bad would happen. I’d tried fighting against the impulses for years, but they always won.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and with a sigh, I pulled it out. The only texts I ever got were from the family group chat Trinity insisted we be a part of—all of us, including Adam. No matter how many times he left, Trinity always added him back. I didn’t know if it was from her own guilt over everything, or because she felt bad for excluding him. But she wouldn’t give up, even if it annoyed the shit out of him.
THEO:
*Attachment: 1 image*
Wish all of you were here!
My heart twisted at the sight of the glittering lights of the New York City skyline. My older brother, Theo, was likely at some high-profile rooftop party surrounded by New York’s elite. How we came from the same cloth, I’d never understand.
I was content with simplicity, buying things at the local general store or thrifting the few pieces of furniture I needed. Theo wanted name-brand everything. He always had. Luxury pumped through his veins like wealth was his birthright. He fit the mold, but somehow, impossibly, kept a reasonable-sized head about his money.
But the need for the things he had, everything he wanted, never occurred to me. I’d never wanted anything more than what I had—I glanced around the small house and cringed.
Okay, maybe I wanted a bit more than this , but I didn’t want a penthouse in the city or a new girl in my bed every night.
ME:
Don’t get into too much trouble.
THEO:
It’s fine. I know a sheriff who can bail me out.
brYNNE:
Can your sheriff hookup bail me out, too?
ME:
What did you do now?
TRIN:
Let’s just say Toby is gonna have SUCH a clean car tomorrow.
ME:
You have to stop fucking with Toby, Trin.
TRIN:
It was Brynne!!!!!!
brYNNE:
Way to throw me under the bus, you dick.
THEO:
Don’t call my sweet little sister a dick, Red.
brYNNE:
You’re a dick, too.
THEO:
I’m getting my dick wet tonight.
brYNNE:
PIG!
TRIN:
MY EYES!!!
MY EYES ARE BURNING!!!
I chuckled and locked my phone, slipping it back into my pocket. All I really wanted to do was take a scorching hot shower and climb into bed and pass out for a few hours. But I needed to grab my mail and start reading a book Trinity had been bugging me about.
It was her goal to have a book club, but so far, Brynne and I were the only members. So, I’d suffered through a million romance novels just to make her happy, and I knew I’d suffer through a million more.
The cool, humid air clung to my skin as I stepped outside, causing goosebumps to ripple down my arms. It was mostly dark, but the faint blues and purples of twilight illuminated the sky. A golden light from the street spotlighted the mailbox as I headed that way.
The stairs creaked, and when my foot hit the leaf-covered ground, a door behind me opened. “You’re kidding,” Willow breathed. I glanced over my shoulder at her, and my stomach somersaulted as I took her in. She was wearing a fluffy white bathrobe, and her dark wavy hair was piled high on her head in a messy bun. A green mask was smeared across her face, the color almost matching her wide eyes. I would’ve laughed if she didn’t look so mortified.
She hesitated, like she wanted to bolt back inside. “What are you doing?” I asked, and her throat bobbed as she swallowed.
“I forgot I had a package delivered today.” She threw her arm in the direction of our shared mailboxes.
“I can grab it for you,” I offered. “I’m heading there now.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she shook her head.
“I’ve got it.”
I wasn’t sure if waiting for her was the right thing to do or not, but it was too late. I was helpless to do anything but watch as she shut her door.
Willow’s single.
Trinity’s words from yesterday came tumbling back, slamming into me like a semi. God, I needed to get it out of my head. But it had taken root, and it wasn’t going anywhere.
My palms were sweaty in my pockets as I shifted my gaze to the ground, and my heart leapt into my throat as she fell into step beside me. Leaves, rocks, and twigs crunched under our feet as we strolled across the expanse of our yard toward the street. Silence filled the space between us, awkward and uncomfortable. I struggled to find something to say, anything , but nothing came to mind.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I had a lot of things rushing through my mind, but I couldn’t say any of them. Because the thing I kept coming back to was Trinity’s voice in my ear telling me to ask Willow on a date.
“Your trash cans are still out,” Willow said, the silence shattering. I blinked, glancing at the bins as we passed.
“So are yours,” I shot back, and she rolled her eyes. “And they still smell.”
“Not as bad as yours.” She huffed out a breath and quickened her pace. I couldn’t help the low chuckle that left me, and it seemed to catch her off guard because her footsteps faltered. She glanced back at me, her mask-covered eyebrows quirking up on her forehead.
Our eyes met in the dimming light, and my breath caught in my lungs. Just ask her out, my mind screamed at me, but the words never came. They were lost somewhere in my throat, and as she stared at me, even with that shit on her face, I still thought she was?—
I stopped myself.
I couldn’t go down this road with my fucking neighbor . It would only end in disaster, and when it inevitably did, we still had to live next to each other. It would be awkward, and one of us would have no choice but to move.
We stepped onto the sidewalk, and I walked around her, putting myself between her and the road. Her hands trembled as she fumbled with her mailbox keys, but I ignored her as I slid mine into the lock. I took my time turning it, prolonging our stilted time together while she struggled.
I should’ve helped her. I should’ve reached over, taken the keys from her, and unlocked the damn thing myself. But I could do nothing but watch as she tried and failed to get the key into the hole. It took her three tries before it slid home, and by the time the little metal door was open, I was done.
The envelopes felt like lead bricks in my hands as I turned toward her. People dated casually all the time. Just because I asked her out didn’t mean we’d have to be in a relationship, or get married, or…anything. It didn’t mean anything .
We could go to the diner for a meal, or I could take her to The Taphouse for trivia night. We could have fun. I could be casual.
And if something bloomed from it, then so be it. But it felt weird, and the words felt clunky as they rolled around on my tongue.
Just ask her. Five words.
Wanna go out with me?
They tumbled around in my mouth, but every time I tried to set them free, they retreated back down my throat. I tried to cling to them, to that stupid question. But no matter how hard I tried, they wouldn’t stay. So, I searched for something else to say. Something to break the silence.
How was work?
What album are you listening to tonight?
What did you have for dinner? I had a cold hamburger. It was gross.
Anything would’ve been better than this awkward silence. The questions I could’ve asked were endless. Instead, the dumbest thing I could’ve said came out: “What’s in the box?”
She paused and blinked up at me. “What?”
I roughly cleared my throat. It took all I had not to sprint back to my place and hide under the covers like a fucking kid. What’s in the box? Who says that?
“I meant what’s in your mailbox?”
Her eyes slid to the metal box, then to the package in her hands, then met mine again. “My…mail?”
“Cool. Cool, cool, cool.” I rocked my back on my heels, wishing I could make myself disappear. “Cool.”
“Yeah,” she breathed, giving me a weird look. “Cool. What was in your box?”
“Mail.” I held up the stack of envelopes. “Probably bills. You know, because I have those.”
“Right.”
“Do you?”
“Do I, what?”
“Have bills?”
I needed someone to sedate me. Needed someone to shut me the fuck up. My god. Why was it so hard to just keep my mouth shut? To just not talk? I’d just been begging myself to speak, and now I couldn’t stop the words from spilling out even if I tried. I could’ve shoved a cork in my mouth, and they’d still find a way to slip free.
Fucking Trinity was in my head. This was all her fault.
“Uh, yeah, . I have bills.” Willow threw her thumb over her shoulder, pointing at the house. “I need to get back.”
“Yeah. Of course.” I waved my hand in that general direction, as if I were dismissing her, and she smiled tightly, the dried mask on her face cracking with the movement. “I’ll see you around.”
“Yep. You will.” She gave me an awkward finger gun as she walked backward for a few steps.
As soon as her back was to me, I cupped my hand around my mouth. “And put an air freshener in your trash!” It was supposed to be a joke, but my voice came out raspy and harsh, and—fuck! Why did I say that?
She rushed across the yard, her robe swaying around her calves. I tipped my head back and stared at the now-dark sky.
“What is wrong with me?” I asked. I raked my fingers through my hair, harshly sighing through my teeth before I went back to my place.
After my ritual of locking the door and checking the stove and microwave, I dropped the mail on the counter, grabbed a beer, and headed to the backyard. I needed to breathe, and my house was too suffocating. It was too sterile.
Every single word exchanged between us replayed in my head like the world’s cringiest home movie. I wanted to shrivel up and die. I wanted to forget it happened, but I couldn’t. I knew it would haunt me for the rest of my life, and every time I looked at her from this day forward, all I would think about was the way her shoulders bunched when I told her to get a goddamn air freshener.
I should be studied by scientists—maybe they could figure out what the actual fuck my deal was. I was thirty-three. I should not have this much trouble talking to a woman.
“I can’t believe I went out there in my mask.” Willow’s voice carried to me over our shared fence, and my entire body froze. I didn’t want to risk making a sound at all. I almost stopped breathing. “I’m always so stupid when I’m around him. He’s just so… ugh !” A smile tugged at my mouth. She was cute. “He can be a real jerk sometimes, you know?”
The words were said softly, but I’d heard them clearly enough, and they made my stomach clench. I wasn’t sure who she was talking to. I only heard her voice. Maybe her mother or Gracie. They seemed to be the only people she really spoke to. I only ever heard her side of their conversations, and her words about me weren’t always the kindest.
So I didn’t want to wait around and hear what else she had to say. She wasn’t wrong—I was a jerk. But I hadn’t been five years ago. No one would’ve ever described me as that, yet I couldn’t shake this damn chip on my shoulder. It seemed it was there to stay forever.
Not even hearing a pretty girl say I was a jerk would be enough to change that.
I finished my beer in a couple gulps, and turned back toward my house, ready to go inside. But, against my better judgment, her voice stopped me.
“I just go stupid when he’s around because he has that whole man thing going on, you know?” I paused midstep, nearly tripping. “And he was so different tonight. He wasn’t jerky, he was…cute.”
My jaw slackened. She thought I was cute? That the entire interaction we’d just had was cute ?
“And he was wearing this shirt that was way too tight on him. Doesn’t he know what shirts like that do to a girl’s ovaries? It can make them spontaneously combust, that’s what. And that nearly happened tonight. Which would’ve been so embarrassing.”
My back deck was bare except for two chairs, and I sank onto one, the amber bottle clutched in my hands as I listened to her. A part of me wondered if she was really speaking to someone else or herself.
But it was nice to know she liked the shirt I was wearing. I had plenty more like it.
“Sometimes I think Dad is right,” she suddenly said, her voice sad. “Maybe this place isn’t right for me.” My brows crashed together. What was she talking about? “I can’t even make friends with my neighbor, who, in theory, should be easy to get along with—I mean, he’s the freaking sheriff, you know? But when I’m not being a total bitch to him, I’m just an awkward, fumbling mess. Maybe I’m like that with everyone, and that’s why I don’t have any friends here.”
My heart squeezed at her confession. I shouldn’t be listening to this, but I couldn’t stop. I had to hear every word that came from her mouth. Even if they were sad, I had to know.
On silent feet, I moved toward the fence. It was too tall for her to see my head over it, but I still crouched slightly. My hand rested on the wood between us as I listened to her move around.
“I don’t want to move back to Ohio, though. That place—” She stopped talking, and I held my breath. Did she know I was here? “I love Cedar Ridge. I need to make more of an effort to make friends. It’s only been five years.” She took a deep breath, and my fingers gripped the wood plank harder.
I wanted to tell her I was her friend—even if it seemed like we did nothing but bicker, I could be her friend.
But I kept my mouth shut and listened.
“Next time I talk to Dad, I’ll have a true story to tell him. One that he’ll be proud of, and one I won’t have to write down to remember.”
My head jerked back. Did that mean she was lying to her dad about her life here? But why would she do that? And she was writing everything down to remember it? That had to be exhausting. I couldn’t imagine living like that.
Her voice grew distant as she muttered something else I couldn’t quite make out, but I could’ve sworn I heard my name. I strained to listen, but the only thing I heard was the sound of her sliding glass door clicking shut.
I finally took a deep breath, my hand still resting on the fence. I had no idea that was how she felt. She always seemed so put together, like she had the best life around. Maybe she was always by herself or with Gracie, but that didn’t mean she was lonely.
Only, apparently, it did.
My heart ached knowing she had that same lonely pit in her chest as I did. It didn’t sit right with me. I wouldn’t wish that kind of emptiness on anyone.
Even if she annoyed me, I’d never hated her. Honestly, I always assumed she truly couldn’t stand me . But after listening to everything she said tonight, I didn’t think she hated me at all.
Or maybe Trinity’s words had sunk too deep, and I was looking for something that wasn’t there. Just because Willow didn’t hate me, didn’t mean she liked me. That thought stung, but it was true, right?
After a quick shower, I settled into bed with the book in my lap. I didn’t know why I even lay down; I knew I wouldn’t sleep. But as I stared at the shadows dancing across my ceiling, I couldn’t help but let myself focus solely on Willow and what kind of life we could’ve had if I hadn’t been such an asshole for the last five years.
Her face shone brightly in the darkness behind my eyes, and a movie conjured up by my imagination played in my mind. Slowly, sleep pulled me under, and my cute neighbor was the star of my dreams.