Page 28 of Tiny Fractures

“Aww, baby, why are you so angry?” Steve asks, pulling Vada into his arms and onto his lap. I see her face soften. “Don’t worry about Ran so much; he knows what he’s doing,” Steve adds in a low voice.

Vada’s eyes shut when Steve moves his lips to her, kissing her softly.

“He sure does,” Shane chuckles.

Out of my periphery, I see Ronan take Sophie’s hand, then lead her into the house as she smiles at him. They disappear in the crowd of people blocking my view of the interior of the home.

I vaguely notice the conversation shifting focus, Vada giggling between kissing Steve, though that feeling in my chest remains, my stomach in knots. God, why am I reacting so strongly to Ronan retreating into the house with some random girl? We’re just friends. It shouldn’t bother me like this, but for some reason, knowing he might be in a bedroom undressing some girl makes me restless.

There’s no way Ronan could already hold this kind of power over me. We haven’t even known each other a whole month. We’re friends. Good friends, yeah, and even after this short time I would consider him one of my closest friends. I feel safe and comfortable with him, but nothing more than that. He has every right to hook up with whomever he pleases, and I have no business at all judging or being… jealous.

I have the most difficult time focusing on whatever everyone is talking about. I’m unable to sit still and let the minutes tick by without my mind turning to Ronan, thinking about what he’s doing in that room just feet away from me.

Is he kissing her? Do his green eyes stare into her soul like they’ve stared into mine? Is he touching her? Telling her he wants her, or worse, is he already on top of her, feeling her body, filling her?

I stand abruptly, not sure what the hell I’m going to do or where I’m going to go, but I walk into the house without even knowing my destination. I don’t know how or why, but I beeline it to that white marble counter tucked into a corner of the living room. I sit on one of the beautiful white-leather upholstered barstools and rest my head in my hands, my elbows on the cool stone surface.

“You look like you need a drink,” I hear a guy’s voice from behind me.

I lift my head to watch a short but lanky boy with cropped brown hair make his way around the counter and to the shelf that holds various bottles of alcohol. He peruses the selection.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you, though,” I tell him with a small smile.

“I’m Corbin.” He places a couple of bottles he snatched from the shelf down on the counter in front of him.

“I’m Cat,” I say.

Corbin smiles at me as he begins making a drink. “So, what’s got you down, Cat?” he asks me, pouring a little bit of this and a little bit of that into a sleek whiskey glass he retrieved from below the counter. “Wait, don’t say it,” he says quickly, tapping his left index finger against his temple. “Your boyfriend cheated on you,” he guesses with an a-ha face.

I shake my head, laughing lightly. “No. I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“So, your girlfriend cheated on you?” Corbin asks, making me laugh again.

“No.”

“Okay, so just to clarify then: you don’t play for the same team?” He stirs whatever drink he’s mixed in that whiskey glass.

“No,” I tell him with another laugh.

“That’s a relief. Would have been such a shame if someone like you was into girls. A real loss to all of man-kind.” He laughs at his own joke, and I smile.

“Thank you,” I tell him.

“But wait, you don’t have a boyfriend? How is that even possible?” He pulls another glass out from the shelf beneath the countertop.

I shrug. “Not a priority, I guess.” My thoughts immediately turn back to Ronan. I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut, hoping this will make the image of Ronan dissipate from my mind.

“Shame,” Corbin says, bringing the drink he just mixed up to his mouth to take a long draw. “So, you’re not here with some guy then?”

“No. Just my friends. They’re occupied with each other.” I look out to the deck, where Vada is still securely seated on Steve’s lap with a smile on her lips. She looks love-struck.

“Are you sure I can’t get you something to drink?” Corbin double-checks with a grin.

I inhale, then exhale deeply. Oh, what the hell. “Yeah, okay.”

“Awesome. What can I fix you?”

I giggle at his word choice. It seems so old-fashioned. “Uh, how about a rum and coke?”

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