Page 10 of Forever Flames: Padraig & Stevie
I kiss his cheek. “I don’t.”
“Really?” Liam cocks a brow. “Could’ve fooled me.”
I shoot him a look. “You two are chaos incarnate. At this point, I’m ensuring your survival.”
“So what? You’re our babysitter now?” Liam chuckles.
“No. I’m the fire extinguisher.” I pretend to spray them and grab a marker for the dry erase board.
I erase the drawing of a giant peen with the sleeve of Padraig’s flannel and start writing:
SUMMER GOALS
5 rehearsals/week
Record demo in the practice room (no sex allowed)
Learn three sets of traditional Irish tunes
Padraig and Liam flank me.
“Seriously?” they say in tandem, then look at each other and grin.
I cap the marker. “Yes. Unless you’d rather keep ripping off early 2000s pop-punk and pretend it’s edgy.”
“I don’t hate it.” Liam lets the idea sink into his skin.
“Learn some Irish songs and you’ll be able to earn money for college by playing in pubs.” I tap the whiteboard with the pen. “Meanwhile, start writing. Eventually you’ll have your own set of updated original Irish music. Loud. Dirty. Yours.”
The brothers don’t answer. They stare at the board like it’s got answers they didn’t know they were looking for. While theystare, slack-jawed, I grab my bra from behind the speaker and head upstairs.
“I thought you weren’t managing us,” Liam calls after me.
“I said I’d help you until yougeta manager,” I say without turning. “Don’t get used to it.”
Padraig trails behind me. “Hey,” he says once we reach the stairs. I pause. He pulls me toward him and envelops me with his entire body. “You’re the only person he trusts besides me right now.”
“I know.” I settle into his embrace. “You’re welcome.”
Maureen’s frustrated voice rings out from the back bedroom. Low. Tired. We can’t hear the conversation, but Rory sounds angry.
Drunk.
Padraig stiffens behind me. The air is stagnant until the door closes again.
“Go,” he whispers.
