Chapter 42
42
NICKY
U s, girls chatter all around Grammy’s living room, basking in the homemade beauty treatments. I dip my feet into a large basin of warm, bubbly water and try to relax.
The fact that we’re all here today is beautiful and special. I just have too big of a family to be able to see everyone regularly. Most of everyone is usually too busy with their jobs and significant others anyway, and I respect that. Especially considering that, until recently, I was the one who lived hours and hours away.
Despite the unhappy circumstances that initially brought us together here today, we’re making the most of it. That’s the Westbrook way.
One of the girls mentioned that chamomile tea bags are great for undereye circles, and heaven knows I’ve recently earned my share of those thanks to the hockey team’s hectic travel schedule. So I’m stretched back with my tea bags over my eyes when I hear a vehicle drive into the yard.
“Karli’s here!” I hear Corri announce. I hear a stampede of eager footsteps as she and the rest of Mason’s sisters rush out to greet their future sister-in-law.
I find myself really excited to see Karli. Her connection to Ronan is comforting in some weird way. Just thinking about him makes my chest ache. My hand leaps to my sternum, trying to rub away the dull ache that blossoms there.
But my heart nearly busts right through my ribcage when I feel a sharp elbow to the side and I hear my mother say, “Oh, hi, Ronan…”
I shoot upright in my seat, my teabags landing on my boobs.
I stare toward the door and when I see all six feet something of him filling up the entryway, I can barely restrain myself from running to him.
Our eyes meet and the instant feeling of peace that washes over me is indescribable.
“Hi…” he says, and though the greeting is aimed at everyone in the room, his eyes are aimed at me.
“Lovely to see you,” Mom says to him. “But what are you doing here?”
That’s when Karli appears and nudges her brother out of the way. “I don’t know what his deal is. He’s acting so weird today. I mentioned that Grammy had had a little tumble and he nearly bulldozed me on the way to my car.” She shrugs, going around the room and giving everyone hugs in turn.
And Ronan just stands there in the doorway. Watching me.
He’s holding an ice pack to his upper arm.
What is going on with him? What happened? Why does he have ice on his shoulder? So many questions.
But when I tear my gaze away from his ice pack and bring my eyes to his, all I’m aware of is the bubbly feeling filling up my chest. “You…you came here for my Grammy?”
“I came here for you. ”
At that, Grammy clears her throat threateningly.
“And you, too, Grammy,” Ronan hurries to add, going across the room to give her a tight hug.
As Ronan chats with my grandmother, my pulse is pounding so hard I can’t even hear the conversations around me. I think Nadia and Meghan are asking Karli about the wedding plans. And my cousins are offering Ronan a variety of beauty treatments.
And all I can think is, he’s here. He came. Without me having to ask him to. On his day off. He made the forty-five minute drive from Starlight Falls to Honey Hill just to get to me.
No man has ever done anything like that for me before.
Not any real boyfriend. Not any practice boyfriend.
Well, I haven’t had any practice boyfriends before Ronan, but I’m just sayin’.
And I don’t know how to not make this mean something. Is this part of our relationship training, too?
“What happened to your arm?” I hear one of my cousins asking him.
He glances at his shoulder and looks back at me sheepishly. Almost guiltily. “I got hurt helping my brother out at his place,” he tells the girls. His eyes stay on me and I feel my own eyes going wide.
It hits me and I gasp. If he…if he hurt himself…I’m going to be in so, so much trouble.Panic sets in.
I am required to be by this man’s side twenty-four-seven, and my little day trip out of town was not exactly approved by the higher ups. If Ronan is injured and can’t play, oh my god, I’m going to be fired. So fired.
There goes my new job.
There goes my cute little house with the front porch.
There goes my family-oriented life back here in Honey Hill.
“It’s no big deal,” Ronan says dismissively. “It’s just a contusion. A bruise.” He moves the ice pack and rotates his arm gingerly. “See? Nothing’s torn. Nothing’s damaged. Just a little banged up. I’ll be fine.”
“For crying out loud, Ronan!” I hiss.
I can’t leave this guy alone for one freaking second. His excuses about his arm sound like a total lie, but I have so much going through my head right now that I’m not even going to touch that part.
I look toward Karli—who’s already sitting with an avocado mask on—and then back to Ronan. “Do the team’s physiotherapists need to be alerted?”I ask.
Ronan sighs, like I’m wearing him out. Good. Be worn out . He deserves it.
“No, the team doesn’t need to know,” he says. “It’s just a little bump on the shoulder. It’s really no big deal. Right, Karls?”
Karli presses her lips together, giving me a sympathetic smile. “I do think he’ll be just fine,” she tells me. “I’m no doctor—just a premed dropout—but I looked him over when we stopped for gas. As long as no other symptoms arise, I don’t think it warrants any further testing or anything.”She gives a half-convincing grin.
“Okay.” I nod, still inwardly freaking out.
“Ronan knows the rules,” she assures me.
“ Rest the arm. Ice my shoulder off and on. Keep it wrapped with a compression sleeve, and keep it elevated as much as possible,” he recites dutifully. “Rest. Ice. Compression. Elevation.”
“Got it!” Karli gives him two thumbs up. “It’ll help reduce pain and swelling, and it’ll protect your ligaments from any additional damage.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ronan says, saluting his sister with his left hand.
Oh my god…I can’t even process this mess right now.
I’m so mad at myself. I was irresponsible to just ditch my job and run off today. I should have been there. None of this would have happened, if I’d been there. I can’t stop ruminating and going crazy inside my head.
When the girls are done giving Ronan a honey-banana-oatmeal face scrub, he finally makes his way over to my corner of the room.
“Hey…” he says softly, towering over me.
The sheepish look on his face weakens me. I sigh. “Hey…”
He pulls off his toque and slices his fingers through that messy hair I love so much. “Can we talk?” He looks so unsure.
I’m already rising out of my seat. “Yeah…”
After pulling on some socks and my winter boots, I lead Ronan out the door onto Grammy’s side porch.
“Thank you for coming, Ronan,” is what I blurt out before he can say a thing.
He seems taken aback. “I was worried about you…” he says eventually. “You should have told me what was going on.”
My eyes flutter closed and I feel my bottom lip begin to wobble. “Grammy’s eyes are really bad and she keeps accidentally hurting herself. Now she’s having surgery to fix the problem. She’s scared.” I suck in a breath, and look away, trying to hold myself together. If I’m staring into his kind eyes right now, I’ll break down.
He touches my elbow to draw my attention back his way. Somehow the electricity of his touch pierces through all the many layers of my puffy coat. “Vent,” he says simply.
“What?”
He reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers up. “I can see that you’re holding back what you want to say. Go ahead and vent. Tell me how you feel, Nicky. Don’t hold anything back.”
“I…I’m scared,” I say, my voice shaking. “I know it’s a routine surgery that gets done everyday. But I’m still scared. What if those doctors fuck up the surgery? What if I never get to speak to my Grammy eye-to-eye again?” I stop myself because I know I sound silly.
He nods. “Get it all off your chest. I’m here. I’m listening.”
My lips wobble. “Yeah, sure. They do the surgery everyday but I’ve only got one Grammy.”
“I hear that.” He squeezes my fingers.
“She’s the sweetest little old lady I know. And she’s mine. And she means everything to me.”
His head bobs again, encouraging me to continue.
“I know we’re only talking about an eye surgery here, but imagining Grammy on the operating table—in any capacity—just reminds me of how fragile life is.” I sniffle “And on an unrelated note, you want to know something that really pisses me off?”
“What’s that?”
“I hate when people talk about sweet little old ladies and they say shit like, ‘well, she’s lived a good life’ and then the conversation moves on. As if that’s enough. Well guess what? It’s not enough.”“I mean, how do you even measure what’s enough? How many years? How many birthdays? How many smiles exchanged across the dinner table? And hugs goodnight?”
He shakes his head. “You can’t measure it.”
“Right,” I say, feeling understood. “You can’t measure it. Because the people who loved that sweet old lady still have to wake up each day. Except now, they’re waking up everyday in a world where she’s not waking up everyday, too. And it doesn’t matter how old she was. It will still suck. I know all of this sounds very random and unrelated, but thinking about the mortality of the people I love always gets me choked up. ”
Now I’ve really gotten myself going.
And when the tears come pouring down my face, his big, familiar hands are right there, cupping my cheeks. And his thumbs are brushing the wetness from my eyes.
Ronan smiles softly. “I hear exactly what you’re saying. The idea of death freaks me out. I don’t know about you but my Grandma and Grandpa are gonna live forever. It’s decided.”
I sniffle. “Yeah. My Grammy, too.”
“Yeah.” We’re silent for a moment and then he asks. “How can I help you feel better?”
“A hug…?”
He pulls me into his chest, pressing my cheek against his thudding heart and his arms come tightly around me. “I will hold you for as long as you need me to, Peach.”
I let him. I burrow my face into the warm, familiar scent of his jacket and I just breathe. And he just holds me.
How does he do that? How does he take all the burdens off my plate and make me feel like I don’t have to worry about anything? Like he’ll keep me safe, even if I let my guard down?
Do I even know this guy well enough to trust him as much as I do? I trust him. This part isn’t practice. It’s not training. It’s not pretend. It’s real .
I just know that Ronan is the only person who makes me feel this way.
When I finally feel stronger, I ease out of his arms. “Better?” He asks me tenderly.
“So much better.” I wipe at my face, knowing I look like hell right now. Yet he looks at me like I’m in a makeup commercial. “Wow. All of that really just popped up out of nowhere.” I’m not used to letting my feelings take over like that.
Ronan traces soft lines down the sides of my face. “It’s okay. You’re allowed to talk about how you feel.”
“I’m sorry, Ronan. I should have told you what was going on with me so you wouldn’t worry.” I sigh. “It’s just—I was so scared when I got that text message. I couldn’t stand for you to see me in that state. I couldn’t open up to you when I felt that way. I didn’t want you to see that part of me.”
For the first time since he got here, I see a flash of hesitation bounce across his face. He lowers his head so our eyes meet. “Look, you have a real big mouth in the bedroom and I love it.” His thumb traces along my bottom lip and on instinct, I suck it into my mouth. “I love when you’re a mouthy girl and you tell me exactly what you want and exactly how you want it. But the only way you’re going to get the love you want—the relationship you want—is if you open your mouth outside of the bedroom, too. In fact, the secrets you share with me outside of the bedroom are even more sacred, even more important.”
“Okay,” I say, my voice hoarse.
“I may not know much about being a boyfriend but I know how to be a best friend. And in my mind, a good boyfriend will be your best friend first and foremost,” he tells me. “And as your best friend, I’m going to need you to turn to me when it counts. If you’re in pain, tell me. If you’re scared, tell me. If you’re hurt, tell me. But also tell me when you’re happy and when you’re proud or excited. I want to be part of all of it.”
I nod my head weakly when he takes me in his arms again. “I didn’t realize that this relationship training would demand so much from me.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty scary,” he confesses. “Just know that you’re not the only one who’s scared. I’m just as scared as you are. You know how I get all up in my emotions. I don’t want to get my heart broken, either.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’m terrified. Because there is nothing ‘safe’ about you. You’re a force of nature. A tornado, a hurricane and an active volcano all wrapped into one.”
I laugh softly.
He carries on. “You’re not ‘safe’. But you’re worth it. Now I’m trying to convince you to think I’m worth it, too.”
“You are. In my heart, I know you are.”
A warm feeling overtakes my entire body. You know, maybe this whole talk about your feelings thing isn’t actually so bad.
Forgetting where we are, I reach up with both hands and pull his face to mine. Our lips touch and all the bad stuff in the world fades away as we hold each other.
We get lost, kissing softly and slowly and taking our time. I’m vaguely aware of the clapping and cheers bleeding from the window.
Ronan glances toward Grammy’s house. “We have an audience.” I hear the mirth in his voice.
I pull his face back to mine. “Let’s give those nosy bitches a show.” I kiss him until we’re both breathless. Then I rest my forehead on his. “We should go home and take care of your arm.” I need Ronan Brighton to be in tip-top condition for his next game. Karli said rest, so that’s what he’s going to do. Whether he likes it or not.
“I’m fine.”
I’m not convinced.
“Next time I need to be away, I’m getting one of those big baby gate fences and locking you up.” I lead him back inside the house.
He grins maddeningly. “Mmm. Sounds kinky. I’m in.”
A few moments later, we’re ready to leave Honey Hill. I’m feeling well-rested, loved up by my family, motivated to buy that house, and ready to take on the next stretch of hockey games.
We get onto the highway, Ronan’s car following closely behind mine. I watch his handsome face when our eyes connect in my side mirror. I smile to myself.
Fuck. I’m falling for this guy.