“What’s that supposed to mean? That I’m not? If she’s so damn nice, Finn, why don’t you go out with her?”
“It’s not like that!” He turned and shoved his fingers through his hair. “God, why are we always fighting?”
“Probably because you can’t be on time for anything and when you finally do show up, you spend your time talking to everyone but me!”
“I talk to you all the time!”
“It’s not the same, Finn. You laugh with you brothers and sisters. You don’t laugh with me like that. And now you’re laughing with some girl I’ve never seen before who hangs on your every word.”
“That’s not true,” he argued, but his mind called him a liar. He did laugh with his siblings. He also laughed with Mallory. He couldn’t recall the last time he and Erin actually had fun and laughed together, just the two of them.
He sighed. “Maybe I’ve been a little preoccupied with family stuff lately. My dad hasn’t been feeling real well and my mom’s overwhelmed with my grandmother. I’m sorry I can’t always be there when you want me to be, but I can’t just ignore my responsibilities.”
“You have six siblings. Why don’t your parents ask one of them for a change?”
It was the same argument they always had. “Colin’s busy with his own family. Sheilagh helps out and Bray is leaving soon.”
“What about Kelly?” she demanded.
“He’s always working.”
“They don’t bother Luke, because he had the sense to move out, but you won’t!”
“I’ll move out when I’m ready to buy my own house.”
She rolled her eyes. “When will that be, Finn? You’ve been making the same excuses for years. You’re twenty-eight years old. I wish you would for once act like it.”
He drew back as if she slapped him. “Is that what you think, that I don’t act my age? What do you do, Erin? You work at the same place you did in high school and you wait around for me to come and entertain you. Why is it always me? When do I ever judge you as harshly as you judge me? You’re right, I won’t move out right now for the same reasons I wouldn’t move out last year. My parents need my help with my grandmother. It falls on them, because my aunt and uncles are busy and have their own relatives to tend to. That’s what family does.”
“So I have to wait for your grandmother to pass away for you to make a move?”
He stilled. In a hushed voice, he said, “You don’t have to wait for anything. Go buy a house if you want one so badly. I’m not stopping you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Maybe I will.”
He’d like to see her try on her salary. There were times Erin came off as such an entitled princess it blew his mind. He sighed. “Why do we always fight?”
Her gaze drifted away for a moment. “Maybe we should consider seeing other people.”
He jerked his gaze back to hers. “Where the fuck did that come from?” They’d broken up in the past over dumb shit, but never had either of them ever made mention of seeing—or wanting to see—other people.
“I’m just saying maybe this isn’t working.”
“You want to see someone else?” he demanded.
“Finnegan, don’t act like you aren’t checking out other girls.”
He scoffed. “I have eyes like everyone else, but I’ve never been disloyal to you.”
“Really? Where were you this afternoon? I called you five times.”
His gut clenched. “I was with friends.”
“What friends?” When he didn’t answer, she snapped. “You were with that girl! Oh my God!”
“We’re just friends!”
“Okay, well, I’m going to go make some new friends and you tell me how you like it.”
She turned to leave and he caught her arm. “Don’t. I’m not playing games.”
“Neither am I,” she sneered and tugged her arm away.
As she stormed off to the bar, he yelled, “So that’s it?” He wished he had something better to say, but that was all he could come up with in that moment.
“Until you’re ready to grow up and give me as much—if not more—of your free time than you give your friends then yes, that’s it. This isn’t fun anymore and I’m sick of begging for your attention.”
She disappeared into the bar. Music interrupted the silent night as the door opened and closed. He growled and pressed off the brick wall. If it weren’t Bray’s last night in town, he’d leave.
A door at the back of the bar opened and the sound of trash being thrown in the dumpster rattled in the silence. He turned and found Kelly brushing off his palms.
“Hey, Finn. Whatch’ya doin’ out here?”
His head shook. “Erin and I had a fight.”
“What else is new?” His brother must have seen something in his face that told him it wasn’t a joke. “Sorry. You okay?”
He shrugged. “I’m so sick of being told I’m not doing enough.”
“Does anyone ever do enough for Erin? She isn’t exactly easy to please.”
That was true. “Do you think I’m irresponsible?” he asked his younger brother.
Kelly laughed. “Finn, you’re the most responsible McCullough I know next to Colin or Dad. Don’t listen to anyone who says otherwise.”
“Thanks.”
Kelly eyed the back door of the bar. “I gotta get back in there. You should too. You’re little friend’s no longer tasting the whiskey, if you know what I mean.”
He laughed and headed back inside. Music belted from the speakers and his family overran the middle table. Bray looked like he’d gone through the ringer over the past thirty minutes. Sammy was slurring her words and petting his brother in a way the rest of them were still not used to seeing Colin touched. Colin didn’t seem to mind in the least.
His gaze snagged on Mallory. She was laughing hysterically, her hair kinking under the heat of the bar and her skin glossy. She looked…nice.
He turned and scanned the bar for Erin. When he found her she was standing in the corner whispering to Tim. He frowned. Since when did they talk? He debated pulling her aside and apologizing, but the sound of his family laughing and enjoying themselves tugged at his attention.
“Hey, Finn,” Luke called from the table.
He turned and pasted on a smile. “Yeah?” he said, heading over to finish his lukewarm beer. He settled into his chair.
“What was that teacher’s name who always wore the lacy slip we’d peek at in middle school?”
“Ms. Fitzpatrick.”
Luke clapped his hands. “That’s it! She had a set of legs on her.”
Finn gave a charitable laugh, feeling sorry for his brother. Being his twin, they were somehow closer than the rest of them. Finn had known Luke was gay since they were thirteen. Fifteen years later, he’d hoped his brother would have the confidence to come out.
He wasn’t sure how many of his siblings knew or if his parents were aware, but he was certain Tristan knew, as Finn was certain the two had been in a relationship for some time. It was one of the reasons Luke moved out.
Tristan lived with his cousins. He’d moved to Center County from Texas after college. From there he started working in the log yard with the rest of them and more nights than not, Finn caught his truck at his brother’s.
Luke had been devastated when he blew out his knee in college thereby blowing his free ride. For two years, Finn worried his brother might never smile again, and then Tristan showed up and something changed.
It took Finn a few months to realize what was happening, especially since Tristan flirted with women constantly and Luke made jokes as though he were a hound with the ladies. But it was there, in the way the two glanced at each other, the subtle way they seemed to look out for the other, and in the not-so-subtle way they always left together.
What bothered Finn was the secrecy. Did Luke think they wouldn’t accept him? All they wanted was for him to be happy. If Tristan made his brother happy then he was happy for them. Sometimes he wonde
red if any of his other siblings knew Luke was gay.
Finn glanced at Sheilagh. She was doing better. Finn suspected she’d found out their brother’s secret as well. Since meeting Tristan, she’d had a crush on the man. Something happened about a year ago that changed her. She no longer seemed like the baby she’d always been. There was something a little colder in her green eyes that had never existed before, sort of like when a child learns the truth about Santa.
One of the waitresses appeared with a tray of shots. “This round’s on Kelly. He said to wait for him.”
They dealt out the shots and Kelly came to join them. The lot of them were rowdy and beyond manners at this point. Finn wasn’t feeling it anymore, but tossed back the shot anyway.
Luke nudged him and whispered, “Hey, what’s up with Erin? She’s getting awfully cozy with Tim over there. You gonna say something?”
He shrugged. “She can talk to whoever she wants.”
“You’re way more forgiving than I am.”
Finn gave him a look, tempted to ask how he could declare such a thing when every bit of Luke’s private life remained private and Tristan flirted with his share of women, but never men. Maybe it didn’t mean as much because they were only women.
His gaze snagged with Mallory’s. She tipped her head and frowned. He shook off her questioning glance. Her mouth moved. You okay? He nodded. She turned to say something to Sammy, but her eyes kept returning to his.
The night went on until the bar was ready to close. Finn was sober, so he took Sheilagh’s keys to her SUV and shuttled out the first group of drunks. When he returned, it was only Kelly and Mallory sitting at the bar.
“What happened to everyone else?”
“Pat called Aunt Colleen to take the lot of them home.”
“I told him I was coming back.”
Kelly shrugged and bent to carry a tray of clean glasses to the back. Mallory was resting her head on her arms over the bar. “Hey, you alive?”
She grumbled something and lifted her head. Her lashes fluttered as she focused on him. “Your family got me drunk.” She hiccupped and he laughed.
“They have a tendency to do that. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
“Thanks,” she slurred, stepping off the stool and losing her balance. He caught her elbow and steadied her.
“We’re taking off, Kel.”
“Drive safe,” his brother called from the kitchen.
He ushered Mallory out the door and helped her into the SUV, figuring Sheilagh could take him to get his truck in the morning and he’d run Mallory to get her car.
She stumbled and cursed. “The ground’s wobbly.”
He chuckled. “You’re wobbly. Those shoes probably aren’t helping.”
“I like my shoes,” she announced then giggled. “Wanna know a secret, Finnegan McCullough?”
“What’s that, Mallory Fenton?”
She leaned in and whispered, her whiskey scented breath a warm tickle at his cheek. “I can tell you because we’re friends.”
“What?” he whispered back.
“My jeans fit.”
It took him a minute to follow and then it occurred to him that this was something monumental for her. He assumed they hadn’t fit before she’d started starving herself and training like she was preparing for the Olympics. “That’s good.”
“That’s great!” She corrected then informed him in a serious voice, “These are great jeans.”
He looked down and evaluated said jeans. They were blue and denim, like every other pair to ever exist. “They sure are. Here, let me help you in the car.”
He opened the door for her and she slid in. Her head rolled on the headrest. She was like a fish out of water on its last flop. His lips twitched as he fought the urge to laugh. Reaching over, he buckled the seatbelt and stilled when his hand accidently grazed her supple chest.
He cleared his throat. “Sorry.” Backing up, he realized she’d passed out.
The ride back to her place was silent, being that his passenger was comatose. When he parked Sheilagh’s car out front, he pulled the key and nudged Mallory. “Philly, wake up. We’re home.”
She snuffled and shoved him away. He got out and went around to her side. She was snoring softly when he opened the door. He undid her seatbelt and shook her knee. “Hey. Mallory. Come on, we have to go in.”
She sighed. “Thanks for getting me to go out tonight. I had fun.”
Leaning into the car, he stared into her eyes. They were blue like the ocean off the coast of the Caribbean. A small sprinkling of freckles showed through the powder on her cheeks and she smelled like soft flowers. Everything about her was soft.
He tugged her hand. “Come on. I’ll help you up the stairs.”
She climbed out of the car and stumbled as she plucked off her shoes. Once she removed her heels she shrank a good five inches, coming only to his chest. He followed her up her steps and waited as she fumbled in her purse for her keys. The task seemed to exhaust her. When she finally fished them out she had a hard time unlocking the door.
“You got to put it in the hole,” he commented.
She snorted. “That’s what she said.”
He laughed and took the keys, making quick work of opening the door. She stumbled in and went straight through the door he assumed was her bedroom. He placed the keys on the counter and waited. “You gonna be all right?”
Something fell to the floor in a clatter and she cursed then burst into peals of laughter. He ran into the room. She was flopped over the mattress and her lamp was lit, but lying cockeyed on the floor. She laughed and then moaned. He knew that moan. That was the moan that came when your insides decided they wanted to be on your outside.
He quickly righted the lamp. Her bedroom was cute and neat. Teals mixed with lime greens in geometric shapes. It was girly, but cool. Not too frou-frou. “Come on,” he said taking her hand and hoisting her up. “Let’s get you to the bathroom.”
“Don’t wanna…” she mumbled as he brought her to her feet.
“I don’t think you have much of a choice.”
He ushered her into the small bathroom and propped her down on the lip of the tub. Let her wait it out a moment. If nothing happened he’d take her back to her bedroom.
Her head hung like dead weight between her shoulders and her soft brown hair teased at the pink bathmat. Her shower curtain was black with white and pink polka dots.
“Whiskey’s the devil,” she grumbled.
He laughed from where he stood propped against the doorjamb. “I’ve been there.”
“How come you’re not drunk?”
“Someone has to look out for the rest of them.”
She peeked through the curtain of her hair and smirked. “You’re a nice guy, Finnegan McCullough. I’m glad you’re my friend.”
“Me too.”
Her hand swatted at her hair, pushing it over her shoulder. “I really should—” her shoulders jerked and she swallowed. Her face paled and then she fell forward and gripped the toilet.
“Fuck.” He went to her side and gathered her hair as she emptied her stomach. Once he had her hair wrapped around his fingers and out of the way, he ran a hand over her back.
She whined and gripped the bowl. “Get out…”
“It’s fine. I’ve been there. Just get it all out.”
“I can’t puke in front of you!” Her next sentence was cut off as her body proved her mouth a liar.
He waited there, rubbing her back and offering her tissues until the worst of it seemed to pass. “I’ll be right back.” He went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. He looked in her cabinets for crackers, but found none.
When he returned to the bathroom she was sprawled over the toilet, her face pressing into the cool lid. “Here, drink this.”
She took the water and guzzled it down. “I can’t believe you just heard me puke.”
“Saw you puke too.”
She shot him a mutinous glare and finished
her water.
“Do you have crackers?”
“No crackers. Carbs are the devil.”
“I thought whiskey was the devil?”
“They’re both evil.”
He lowered himself to the floor, figuring he should wait a few minutes before moving her. “Did you have fun tonight?”
“Yes. You’re family’s really cool. I like Samantha a lot.”
“Sammy’s great. You’ll have fun working with her.”
“We’re gonna have lunch together on Monday.”
“That’s good.”
She sighed and snuggled into the toilet as if it were a down pillow. “Hey, what happened to Erin?”
Finn sighed. He stretched his legs over the narrow space of tile. “We had a fight and sort of broke up again.”
“What did you fight about?”
“The same old bullshit. Me not giving her enough attention. Her wanting me to move out of my parents’ house.”
“To live with her?”
“To buy my own place.”
She frowned. Her lashes drooped over her eyes and he knew she wasn’t at her cognitive best at the moment. “How does you moving out of your parents’ house affect her?”
“Because I think she assumes my house will eventually be hers.”
“Does she live with her parents too?”
“Yeah.”
“Well then why doesn’t she move out?”
“Exactly.”
She rolled her eyes and mumbled something he didn’t catch.
“What?”
“Nothing. If you ask me…”
“What?”
“Nothing. Never mind. It’s not my place.”
“Say it. We’re friends. I want to know what you think.”
She seemed to hesitate. “I think you can do way better than her.”
He frowned. “You don’t really know her.”
“I know the kind of girl she is.”
Erin was someone he cared about on some level. It was hard not to come to her defense. On the other hand, Mallory had never been anything but honest with him and she wasn’t the type to put people down for no reason. In truth, he’d never heard her say a bad thing about anyone aside from herself. “What kind of girl is she?”
“The kind who is always looking for a better, faster solution.”