Page 25 of Tiny Fractures

“You mentioned it earlier today.”

I smile. “You paid attention.”

“I try.” He flashes me a smile that sends ripples through my body, then collects the rest of our menus. He turns to leave to put in our orders, but not before giving my back another tiny rub with his thumb, once again shooting electricity down my spine. I watch him walk away out of the corner of my eye, paying attention to his dark-washed jeans hugging his hips and the way his black shirt hints at his muscular back and V-shaped torso.

“In all seriousness, babe, what are we going to do for Ran’s birthday?”

Vada’s question to Steve refocuses my attention away from Ronan, who put our orders in at the bar and then moved to the table with the family of four. The toddler managed to get ahold of his mother’s glass of soda and deliberately spilled it, the liquid running all over the table and dripping onto the floor.

“When is his birthday?” I interrupt.

“On the second,” Vada says.

“I have no idea,” Steve admits. “I’m not even sure if he’s working or not. I don’t know, let’s check with Shane. Maybe we’ll just hang out at the beach house?” There’s some affirmative nodding by Zack and Summer. Steve puts his thumb and index fingers to his lips and whistles so loudly Vada jumps in her seat.

“What the hell?” Zack looks bewildered at Steve, who’s waving for Shane to come to the table.

“What in the world, Steve!” Shane says, laughing. “Are you going to complain about the service to me?” he jokes, nodding his head at Ronan, who’s busy cleaning up the spilled soda.

“Nah, he’ll do just fine,” Steve jokes back. “We were just talking about Ran’s birthday coming up. Have you talked to him about it?”

“Oh, shit. Man, that’s right. That’s in like ten days! We haven’t talked about it. I completely spaced. I’ve been so distracted with my apartment,” Shane explains.

“When are you moving in?” I ask.

“Officially on the first. I was actually going to ask if you all are free to help me move. I feel like total shit right now,” Shane says, deflated, his eyes full of guilt.

“Okay, well, it’s not too late to remedy the situation. Ran’s not much for crazy shindigs anyways, so maybe we can just hang out at your new place or the beach house after we move you in?” Vada suggests, ever the optimist.

Shane nods. “That’s a great idea. I better check the schedule to make sure we’re not working.” He makes a face. “But yeah, we can probably hang out at the beach house if you guys help me move all my stuff the day before?” He looks around the table hopefully. “Pretty please?”

“Of course we’ll help,” I say, and the others nod.

“Awesome. I’ll text everyone the details tonight and then we’ll figure out Ran’s birthday situation,” Shane says, then heads back to the bar to grab another tray full of beverages that he delivers to a table of ten wildly giggling girls.

Ten minutes later, Ronan returns to our table balancing a giant tray on his hand and shoulder. He skillfully lifts one plate at a time off the tray and places them in front of their respective recipients. The food looks delicious, and I close my eyes as I breathe in the warm aroma of the Irish fare.

“Do you guys need another round of drinks?” Ronan asks.

“I’d love another beer,” Zack mumbles, his mouth already full of corned beef hash. “Shit, this is good.”

“I’ll have another Malibu Pineapple with extra cherries,” Summer says, and points at Vada, who simply nods in agreement.

“Pale Ale and two Malibu Pineapples; no more drinks for Steve because he’s a lightweight,” Ronan says without looking at his brother, but with a huge grin on his face.

“Hey, watch it, asshole,” Steve chimes in, again elbowing Ronan in the side. “But yeah, I’m fine. I still have to drive,” Steve says, and Ronan laughs.

“How about you, Cat?” Ronan asks, his gaze trained on me.

I have a mouth full of mashed potatoes and put my hand in front of my lips so as not to spew food all over the table. “I’m fine. I still have this… whatever this is,” I say, my speech garbled.

Ronan smiles at me. “Looks like an L.A. water,” he says, and I nod. “Shane is trying to test you. Have you tried it yet?” Ronan picks up my glass, takes a sniff, then scrunches his nose and puts the glass back down. “Whew, I’d be careful with that if you’re planning on actually walking out of here today,” he says, his voice light but warning. “Jack makes these really, really strong.” He points over his shoulder at the guy tending the bar.

“What’s in it?” Vada asks.

“Vodka, tequila, rum, gin, triple sec, Midori, Chambord, Blue Curacao, and sweet and sour. This thing will get you wasted fast.”

Vada pulls my glass toward her to sniff. “Can I take a sip?” she asks me, and I wave my hand for her to go ahead. She takes a sip and her lips pucker. “Oh, holy mother of Santa Claus, this will wake a sleeping grizzly.” She pushes the glass back toward me.

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