Page 57 of Puck of the Irish

“Hell yeah,” he says, clamping me on the shoulder. “Can’t wait. Anything else I can do to help?”

“Nah, man, thanks. I’ve got one more thing to take care of myself, and Lucy’s got the rest covered.”

He smiles wider and squeezes my shoulder before dropping his hand.

“This is going to be a night for the books, my friend.”

“Even better than Drunk Hunt sophomore year?” Shep and I had orchestrated a huge drunken scavenger hunt that year. We had fifty people split up into teams of five, each team had a video camera, and a list of over two hundred different challenges to complete or things to find spanning all over campus, each one worth a varying number of points. Most things involved alcohol, or nudity, or both. More than one team had been chased by police and the videos that each team took would make fantastic blackmail tools for a few of our classmates who went on tobecome congressmen and senators. It was one hell of a fucking good time and one of the best nights of my life.

“That night will live in infamy, it’s true, but…this one may just top it.” He winks at me and my lips curl.

It’s going to put Drunk Hunt to shame.

Twenty-Four

NAT

“Oh you know what,I heard there was a, um…big drug ring operating out of that neighborhood, actually,” Hattie says about another rental I’d found. I would rather just buy something, but I’m short on time, so I figure I’ll grab a rental for a few months and then really figure everything out. Dad hasn’t given me a date certain to be out by or anything, but I want to get this done and over with. In fact, we haven’t spoken at all. I guess when I move out I’ll just have the keys delivered to his office via courier and that’ll be that. My whole relationship with my dad down to a stranger delivering keys. I try not to think about that too hard or I’ll start crying and maybe never stop. Despite everything, he’s my fuckingdad. I don’t what this to be how we end up.

I narrow my eyes at her. She seems to be trying to find things wrong with every single listing I’ve shown her and I don’t really understand why. I think maybe she’s trying to protect me, like if she stalls me long enough, I’ll change my mind and try to work things out with my dad and not have to leave this house that she knows holds such a big place in my heart. I love her for it, but I’mnot going back. My decision has been made. I’ve had a few really good cries about it and I’ve come to realize that a house is just a house. It’s the memories that matter and nothing can take those away. So, I’m ok with it. Really.

“Drug ring, huh?”

“Oh yeah. Huge. Tons of meth.” I arch a brow and give a look that makes it clear I’m not buying a word of that, but she merely grins a dimply grin at me and I can’t help but laugh. “So, what about this one?” she asks, changing the subject and holding up a gorgeous emerald green satin cocktail dress with beading along the sweetheart neckline.

“Oohhh,” I say, reaching out to run my hands over the material. “But are we sure this isn’t too fancy for a St. Patrick’s Day party?” I realized when we set out to go shopping that I never confirmed with AJ on dress code—well, the dress code everyone else sees anyway. I’m all good on the one that only he gets to ogle after everyone else leaves—and he’s in some important meeting right now, so I’ll have to rely on Hattie and Shep’s word for it.

“Nah, Connor said it’s always like New Years Eve Party attire, but just, ya know, in March.” AJ throws his famed St. Patrick’s Day party every year, this just happens to be the first year he gets to host it as his own place. I know he’s really excited about it, but stressed too. He’s really thrown himself into the planning, talking and texting with Lucy constantly to get all the preparations done just right. It’s kind of adorable actually and my heart twists a little remembering what he told me about St. Patrick’s Day when he was a kid, how special it was for him and his mom and their little celebration they’d do every year. I love that his love for the holiday has stayed with him over the years and though the way he celebrates now is quite a bit different, the fact that it’s still so important is really sweet when you think about it.

And I’ve got green Kool Aid, shamrock cookies, and decorations made out of construction paper (thanks to some help from Ollie, of course) ready for a little celebration of our own that morning. I think he’s going to love it. Might even cry a little. Ray and I are betting on that actually.

“Hmm, well I think I have the perfect heels to go with this, then.”

I pull down AJ’s long drive, marveling at the thousands of green and white twinkling lights hanging in all of the trees lining the road on either side all the way down the quarter-mile stretch. I pull around the circular part of the driveway that wraps in front of the house, and Jax is waiting with a giant smile. He opens my door for me and helps me out.

“Wow, you look beautiful, Nat.” It had taken weeks for me to finally get him to stop calling meMs. Morgan.

“Thanks, Jax. Everything looks amazing. Lucy did fantastic!” More lights are tucked within huge, elegant flower arrangements lining the wide stairs leading up to the front porch. It’s like something out of a fairy tale. Not quite what I’d envisioned for a St. Patty’s Day rager, but still gorgeous. AJ had loved our little celebration this morning and though I lost the bet and he didn’t end up crying, there were definitely some unshed tears in his eyes, so Ray decided we could call it a draw.

But as much as he loved that, I know he’s so excited for tonight. He was practically vibrating with it all day and could barely sit still. I take in the decorations again, ready to get this thing started…but I frown. Something is off. Shouldn’t there be music blaring from inside already? Voices raised in cheers and debauchery? It may be semi-formal attire, but the vibes are mostdefinitely going to be frat party on steroids. As they should be. I’m ready to kick Jules’ and Bobby’s asses in beer pong and later do drunken, unholy things to AJ.

My brow furrows a bit.

“Am I the first one here?”

“Nah, I’ve parked a dozen cars down at Mr. Shepherd’s already.” I know he got a couple of other guys to help run the valets back and forth from Shep’s place to here with the golf cart, but I don’t see any of them. They must be down at the other end. He gives me a winning smile and gestures for me to head inside, his honey eyes sparking with…something. Maybe just excitement for the party. I smile back and head around the car while he slides into the driver’s seat.

My heels clack loudly against the stone porch and when I push open the door, I’m…confused.

It’s dark in the entry. The overhead lights are off and the only illumination is provided by candles burning on small pillars lining the hallway, draped with more flowers. Now I hear that there is music playing, but not at all the music I expect. It’s Michael Bublé crooning softly instead of theBest of 2000s Club Mixthat we’d spent hours coming up with yesterday. There are no other voices, no drunken singing, or people toasting, or hell, even someone puking already.

“Uh, hello?” I call as I take a few slow steps through the foyer.What in the hell is going on?

“In here,” AJ says from around the corner in the living room. I take the last steps past the wall and freeze.

AJ is standing in the middle of the living room in a sharp deep gray suit with a green tie. All of the furniture had been moved out for the party—or what I’d thought was a party—and now the entire giant room is filled with flowers and more of those soft, twinkling lights. Zamboni sits at AJ’s side, a green bowtie on and smiling that golden smile. He wags his tail andbarks at me in greeting, pushing back on his hind legs and pawing at the air like he’s waving. I smile, though my heart is galloping like a racehorse.

“AJ, what’s happening?” My eyes are already watering at what Ithinkis happening, but…no, it can’t be…that’s crazy, isn’t it?

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