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“Jesus, you really love her, don’t you?” More than life.
“And put this on,” she added, tossing Christina Aguilera’s Stripped album into Katie’s hands. “Track two.”
“How are your thighs so freakishly strong?” “It’s called using my mam’s ThighMaster, bitch,”
“I told you not to call me that in public,” she protested with a huff. “And I told you not to wear that pink dress,” the big lad shot back with a wolfish grin as he set the cat down on the couch and prowled toward her. “But I’m so fucking thrilled that you didn’t listen to me.”
“Are you mental? Look at me. I make a beautiful Ken.” “Beautifully deranged, more like. Nobody else is dressed up, lad.” “My lover is.” “Your lover? Are you well? She’s my sister, not your lover, asshole.”
“Most of the girls in our class had. You even overtook Leo DiCaprio for a bit—and that was during his Titanic superstardom stage.” Shaking her head, she released another sigh before adding, “Which only proves that I’ve always been attracted to the worst kind of wrong for me.”
“She clearly lives in that world with him,” I mused, feeling myself smile for the first time in weeks as I watched them.
“You’re honestly trying to tell me that those two aren’t in love?” “I never said they weren’t in love.” Chuckling, she added, “Only that they’re not together.”
“So, apparently Dolly Parton was wrong when she said Jolene was a redhead.” Inclining her head toward the kitchen, she hissed, “It turns out she’s a blond with a death wish.”
“Are you going to look at me?” “Not right now.” “Why not?” “Because it hurts too much.”
“That is not how you treat the person you love, which goes to show that you never loved me the way I loved you.” “Never loved you?” I gaped at her. “Are you fucking crazy? You’re the only person on this planet I do love!”
Giving Katie a wolfish grin, the big lad continued to dance with his little gal pal, either unaware or just plain uncaring of the many longing looks he was receiving.
The boy was built like a brick shithouse, with both nipples pierced and more muscles on his body than he had common sense in his head. Common sense or not, the big man certainly seemed to have his priorities in order, placing his curly-haired queen in a firm first-place position.
While the rest of his friends had long since abandoned their girlfriends and dates, Gibsie hadn’t taken more than three steps away from Claire all night.
Our eyes met, green on green, and he winked at me from across the room. And just like that, I was ruined.
“But you’d better take your own advice and come with me because that moody-looking pal of Shannon’s is looking like she wants to eat that posh boy of yours up.”
“You can’t tell me what to do, Joe,” I growled, feeling a combination of drunk and dizzy. “You don’t own me.” “Well, that’s bad fucking luck on my account, because you sure as shit own me!”
“Why would you say that to me?” “Because it’s the truth.” “Since when?” “Since I was twelve.”
Nobody served up karma quite like Molloy.
“This round?” Defiant as always, she looked up at me with those ridiculously sexy green eyes and arched a perfectly groomed brow. “I always win, Joe.”
Because every part of me loved every part of her. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
She had my heart in knots and my head spinning.
“Tell me you’re sorry.” I gave in without a fight, too weary and too damn in love to fight my feelings. “I’m sorry.” “How sorry?” “Very sorry.” “Good boy.” Her tongue was on my ear then, her body pressed flushed against mine. “Now, tell me you love me.” “I love you.”
“What are you doing?” “You broke my heart,” she told me, moving my hands to her hips as she curled her arms around my neck and stepped closer. “The least you can do is dance with me.”
“Look at me,” she repeated, green eyes burning through me as the song played around us. “Keep your eyes on me.” Shivering, she kept me close and said, “Make this song about us instead.”
“It’s you,” he repeated gruffly, fingers tightening on my waist. “I pick you. Every single time.”
“I’ll love you the right way this time,” he whispered, and his breath fanned my cheek. “If you’ll show me how.”
“I’m not your mother or your sister. I’m not another girl who needs something from you. I’m the girl who wholeheartedly wants you. I’m the girl who wholeheartedly loves you. The hurler. The mechanic. The boy. The protector. The asshole. The lover. The addict.”
“Because I have an unlimited supply of free alcohol to warm my belly and this asshole guy I’m sort of in love with to warm everywhere else.” He smirked. “Is that so?” “Uh-huh. Come on, Tony Soprano.” Wrapping my arm around his waist, I slid my hand into his back pocket and leaned in to his warm side. “This time, you can look after me.”
if she only felt a fifth for me of what I felt for her, then I was one lucky son of a bitch.
“One year ago yesterday we had our first kiss.” Well, shit. “I didn’t know that.” “Yep,” she breathed, leaning heavily against me. “Exactly one year ago yesterday, you stuck your tongue down my throat.”
“What can I say?” I pulled her closer. “I had to be sure.” “Of what?” “That you wouldn’t run.” “And now you’re sure?” She watched me closely. “Now you trust me?” “Yeah, Molloy.” Nodding slowly, I leaned in close and brushed my lips against hers. “I trust you.”
“But I was never sure if you could ever truly open yourself up in that way to anyone.” “Not anyone, Molloy,” I told her. “Just you.”
“I am so down for you, Joey Lynch.”
“Ride or die, Molloy.”
“You’re insane.” “I’m in love.”
“But now I’m carting an extra seven pounds of gorgeous around.”
“Nice moves.” “Nice legs.” “If you ever want to experience them wrapped around your waist again, then you’ll back down.” “That’s blackmail,”
“It’s like you said earlier, she’s my girl.”
“You twist me up in knots, queen.” “Right back at you, stud,”
The boy’s attention quickly sparked to life at the sound of Shannon’s name, and I watched the fog dissipate from his steel-blue eyes.
“Shannon like the river, and Joey the hurler.”
“I wouldn’t trade you for all the steak in Ireland.” I grinned. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Since we’ve been together? Since the day you put your lips on mine? It’s only been you, Aoife .”
“Your face right here is the only face I’ve been seeing since I was twelve. Because no matter how off my head I’ve been over the years, no matter how far from reality I’ve let my mind wander, I have never lost sight of this face.”
“The only face,” I confirmed with a small nod. “The only girl.”
“But yeah, I reckon my sister is a small bit obsessed with your best friend, too.” “Aw, shucks,” he mused, eyes dancing with mischief. “Isn’t young love fun?”
“So, what’s the story with you and your buddy’s sister?” “Who?” he asked. “Claire?” I nodded. “She’s my intended,” he came right out and said, without a hint of embarrassment. “The fuck?”
“It’s true,” he urged, eyes wide and full of sincerity. “We’re betrothed.” “Since when?” “Since she was four and I was six, and I promised her that I would marry her.”
He gave me a cheeky wink and said, “This one’s for you, blondie.”
