Chapter 9 #2
It’s moments like this that have me shaking with rage, even fate longing for her and cruelly stealing her.
The songs pull me into a trance of nostalgia and, as always, hand me off to longing.
So many things I wish for. Pain rips through my chest, the kind that not even the small joys can relieve.
No matter how much hope and love I hold on to, nothing changes for me; I still suffer.
For Ronnie. For things to be different. The harsh truth loud and clear—a constant fucking reminder that maybe, in this life, we are destined to be nothing more than just family.
My sister’s voice anchors me, dragging me back from my spiral.
I glance over at Nixie. I listen to her singing along to the lyrics, and I join her.
It’s like déjà vu, but instead of Nixie, she’s replaced by the ghost of the girl I love.
The lyrics echo in the car, merging with the roar of the engine and the hum of the tires against the asphalt.
Not even ten minutes later, we pull into Ronnie’s townhouse.
I don’t fully have the car in park before she opens the door and steps outside.
Nix darts out of the car and lunges towards Ronnie.
Both act like they haven’t seen each other in years, when I bet it’s more like days.
Still, the sight brings a smile to my lips, a warmth to my soul.
I focus on Ronnie, who looks beautiful as always. Without even trying. Her deep onyx waves are straight today, except for the red waves underneath the onyx. She’s wearing a Gorillaz band tee, long blue jean skirt, and black Vans. No makeup, and still beautiful.
Ronnie’s eyes meet mine, and for a fleeting moment, I see it, the love in her eyes. And, as always, quickly as it’s there, it’s gone, replaced with her usual mirthful smile, before disappearing into the townhouse.
It takes me a moment before I step out of the car and follow the girls inside.
Mentally preparing myself for the rush of emotions that comes with walking into the home she shares with another man.
It’s so much of her and so little of him, or maybe all I do is focus on the familiar scent of cinnamon and pumpkin that fills my nose every time I step inside.
It’s Veronica’s signature scent, one that triggers a tsunami of emotions.
As always, I feel the usual tidal wave of jealousy that internally crashes into me the moment I catch a glimpse of Max’s things.
My smile fades into a scowl as my eyes roam through the sea of pictures of the happy couple scattered around, alongside one of us.
Finally, my gaze lands on the picture of a younger us, sitting by the stream sharing a popsicle.
To others, it may not be a grand or significant place, but to me, it holds the moment I understood the word love.
Something that reminds me, even in her silence and denial, my girl still loves me.
“Iz, you shouldn’t have,” Ronnie’s voice rings in my mind, drifting my attention to her as she opens a bag containing a chocolate chip muffin from Ms. Linda’s place, her eyes lighting up in delight.
“You sure know how to please a woman.” She grins as she takes the muffin out of the bag.
The only sensible response is one too inappropriate to voice, but the only one that rings true.
I only know how to please you. However, the words die in my throat, and all I can muster is a wink and a sad smile.
She takes a bite, her eyes closing at the taste, and starts to laugh about something Nixie whispers in her ear.
I lean against the doorframe, not really participating in their conversation, yet unable to look away from my girls.
Watching them as they playfully banter, before moving towards the couch and after fussing over what to watch.
“Ehh, that’s boring,” Nix protests, trying to snatch the remote from Ronnie’s hand as I push off the wooden frame.
“Nixie!” Ronnie shrieks, continuing to surf through the titles.
“That one!” Nix shouts. It’s unanimous.
Truthfully, no other movie stood a chance; per usual, the choice fell on Twilight. Taking a seat at the opposite end of the couch, like always, something stood between us. This time it’s the source of our joy and the source of our greatest pain. Our little sister.
The room falls quiet, and truthfully, I dissociate the moment Bella walked on screen. An hour into the movie, and I’m already blinking away the boredom. I look over at my sister, noticing Nixie has fallen asleep, leaving Ronnie and me alone.
Feeling antsy, I get up from the couch and walk out to her back deck.
Pulling out my little black tube from my pocket, I take out my pre-roll.
Lighting it up, I inhale the sour diesel and moon dust blunt.
Closing my eyes, I let my mind drag me to the memory of why this particular one became my favorite.
“Is that weed?” Ronnie’s voice startles me, causing me to choke on the herby smoke. She smacks my back, trying to help me from choking even further. Using my hand, I try to tell her I’m fine. Seriously, this couldn’t be any more embarrassing.
“I’m fine…”
She stops, folding her arms across her chest as her grey orbs roam over me. “So you’re smoking pot now?”
I hold up the lit joint, no point in lying. “You should try it.”
It was a joke, of course, I expected some kind of retort, but Ronnie is a wildcard—never knowing what you’re gonna get.
And I love it. She steps forward, giving me a full view of the curves of her breast. The orange tank top hugs her skin so tightly that it pushes it up into her chest. The sight is enough to make my body hum with need.
I can’t help but swallow hard before my gaze drops to her perfectly toned legs from all the hiking and running.
After a moment of silence, she inches forward, her stormy irises dancing with mischief. “I’ll try it.”
My brow arches, a smirk playing on my lips. “You wanna try it?”
She unfolds her arms, giving me full sight of her, and shrugs. Making my heart make its one rhythm, just for her. “Sure, we’re home alone.”
Alone.
With her.
All of this sounds like a terrible idea, and yet, my body moves closer.
The joint is hanging between my lips when I pinch her cheeks using my thumb and index finger to bring her closer.
With my free hand, I flip over the joint so the cherry is in my mouth and the end is pointing into hers.
The air squeezes from my lungs, as her eyes dilate and her breathing stutters.
There’s an exchange of silent instruction between us; her perky lips turn into a perfect ‘o’ as I blow the smoke directly into her waiting mouth.
Trying my best not to give her too much, her brows furrow, and that’s my queue to stop.
So I do…
The only thing is that I hover, pulling the joint from my own lips. I purse my lips so I can drag the smoke escaping from her perfect mouth with my gaze locked on hers—one that grows heavy given her sexy siren eye look.
Creak!
The sound pulls me out of my thoughts. The door opening from behind me alerts me of her presence as Ronnie steps out, plucking the pre-roll from my fingers before I have a chance to take another hit. She smiles softly before bringing it to her lips, her eyes never leaving mine.
Really making me feel all ‘hoa, hoa, hoa’ deep inside.
“Good shit,” she says, her lips curling up into a playful smirk as a cloud of smoke billows from between them.
“I always have good shit,” I reply while inhaling the smoke, wishing it were a tongue that curled around her perfect lips.
I really try not to make things weird between us, to not show her the love that has long consumed me, but that’s harder than asking me not to breathe.
How can you look at your heart and force it to desist?
Ronnie passes the pre-roll back to me, her fingers lingering on mine for just a moment longer than necessary.
“You okay?” I ask, knowing that she’s not, something is bothering her, and she’s begging for someone to acknowledge it. So I do.
She shrugs, trying to play it off. “It’s nothing. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“You can always talk to me, you know that?” I take another pull of the blunt before passing it to her.
We are so close that I can feel the heat from her body.
All of a sudden, the urge to close that distance—to wrap my arms around her—is so overwhelming that it takes all of my self-control to keep from doing so.
“I know, just not in the mood to talk about it. Okay?”
She takes the blunt, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. My hand moves to her cheek, startling her. “I’m here if you just need someone to listen. I might not be good at it at times, but I’m here.”
Her stormy gray eyes lock on mine, and I lean in, inhaling the smoke coming from her lips before pulling away slightly.
Sucking her breath into my lungs, getting high off the best drug to my heart.
Her gaze is intense, and I find myself caught in it.
My lips brush hers, and, for a moment, I consider crashing my lips into hers, tasting the intoxicating mix of sour diesel, moon dust, and the sweetness that is her.
But I pull back, my eyes searching hers for signs of resistance or unease.
All I see is desire; it’s like looking into a mirror that reflects my own want.
“I don’t think Nixie would appreciate us making out,” she teases, pulling away from me to pass me back the blunt. I raise an eyebrow at her, a smirk playing on my lips as I retort, “I will beg to differ. She called us Izronie today.”
She snorts. “Sure.”
“I mean it,” I drawl, the smirk still on my lips. “She thinks we’re a vibe.”
That earns me one of Ronnie’s infamous eyerolls. “A vibe, huh?”
I shrug, taking another pull of the blunt. “ A total vibe.”
Ronnie chuckles lightly, her laughter setting off an echo in my heart. My eyes track every movement as she pulls away from where she’s standing and inches closer to the edge of the deck, before leaning onto the railing. “You shouldn’t… Max.”
“I guess I should hide it better,” I say, watching her. Ronnie snickers at my words, already replacing the walls around her that have been impenetrable to climb.
“Hide what?”
“What you do to me,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, forcing my eyes and thoughts away from the tempting view that’s my fucking stepsister. I personally never saw her as that, but she’s always made it a fucking point to remind me of it any chance she can.
“Don’t do that. Respect Max.” She quips.
I push off from where I’ve been leaning against the deck and shift towards her, stopping just short of touching her.
But man, do I want to. My hands twitch at my side.
The need to tuck that loose curl dancing in the wind behind her ear is too much to bear.
The air between us crackles, and all I can muster to say is.
“Then again, where is the fun in that?” I inch closer, breathing her in like a drug.
“I like watching you squirm, Ronnie. Pissing off Max is just the cherry on top.”
She clicks her tongue loudly. “Grow up.”
The way she clips out the word tells me she wants me to end the conversation or at least redirect it. So, I do. Well, not entirely like I said, I like watching my precious little butterfly squirm.
“Plus, our baby sister is team us, actually. She thinks you and I would have been a dream team.”
Vero swallows hard, pretending that it didn’t bring some sort of joy knowing someone we love would accept us. Accept our love, but as always, logic wins with Ronnie.
“Iz…” Her voice trails off into the wind, her stormy eyes meeting mine. “We’ve been down this road before.”
“No, we haven’t,” I reply with a shake of my head.
“Not as adults. Not when it matters.” For a second, we just have a silent standoff.
Neither of us looks away. The sparks between us crackle, setting off a storm of our emotions that pulsates in the air.
Until finally, she breaks away, pretending that her overgrown grass is more interesting than anything I could say.
Joke’s on her if she thinks she can fool me with it.
I know she’s deep in thought. I can tell by the way her shoulders tense and her brows pinch together, forming a small triangle.
Plus, she’s biting the inside of her cheek.
“What are you thinking?”
Ronnie shakes her head and lets out a small and pitiful scoff. “We can’t, so I try not to think about it, Iz. Why make things complicated?” she murmurs as I cradle her face in my hands, our lips almost touching. “We can’t.”
She’s right, I shouldn’t do this to her, but I’m selfish and an asshole.
“Just because you say we can’t doesn’t mean we shouldn’t.”
My lips brush against hers, willing her to me, and when she does, my knees turn to jelly.
The feeling is euphoric. Fuck, does she bend so beautifully.
Her soft and pliable body fit into mine so perfectly that it’s almost a curse.
I kiss her then. My tongue sweeps against the seams of her lips, seeking permission to enter.
For a moment, I think she will let me in, only to be disappointed when the invasion is denied.
Ronnie keeps them firmly closed, rejecting me. My heart sinks at the gesture; however, I don’t give up. You gotta work hard for what you want. And my little sunflower is everything I ever fucking wanted. I nuzzle my nose against her cheek and breathe warmly on her skin.
“It doesn’t have to be hard,” I murmur against her skin. Her fingers grip my shirt, pulling me closer as she lets out a soft sigh.
“Fuck, Iz. I’m with Max. We just can’t.”
“Leave him. Make it easy?” I murmur, pressing my lips against hers gently before biting down lightly. “Stop fighting it. I want you, Ronnie. You want me. There’s no hiding that. We’re not kids anymore. Let me in. Fuck, mujer, just let me in.”
My words reach her and shock me when I feel her melt against me.
I expected another wall, another reason why we couldn’t, but when her eyes flutter open, her stormy gaze meets mine.
Her lips part slightly, and I can tell she’s on the verge of giving in—surrendering to the undeniable tension that has been building between us since we were kids.
All I can think of are the reasons why we should.
Then suddenly, her fingers uncurl from my shirt only to flatten out on my chest. Creating a physical border, my heart ricochets under her touch. “See what you do to me.”
A soft sigh escapes her lips as she looks at me intently. “Iz… people will get hurt if we pursue this. It can’t happen. I can’t hurt Alexa or Max… I just can’t.” With that, she ducks out of my grasp and runs into the safety of her house. Leaving me alone once again.