I surprise her by leaning forward and placing a kiss to her lips that has her melting into me. I pull back slightly and cup her face. “You’re bloody perfect, my love. Dad won’t even notice you, and Mum’s going to adore you so much, she’ll probably try to trade me for you. Stop worrying.”
Jade’s mouth is still set into a frown, but she acquiesces a step, then another, until I’m pulling her through the front door. Shouts can be heard from the foyer as they ping pong throughout the house. Mum’s in a one-sided heated debate about whichBig Brothercharacter should win in a season that aired four years ago, and Lottie is standing just outside the sitting room, on the phone with someone.
“No, I can’t get out of dinner,” she says. “Because it’s a weekly thing, you know that.” She pauses, and I can vaguely hear a masculine voice on the other end as we step into the doorway. “I’m sorry, you know I didn’t want to miss it. I’m going to come by after dinner, I’ll just be a little late.” Her eyesstart to glisten. “Idosupport you.” A tear falls. “Please don’t be like this. I haven’t seen Dad in weeks; I didn’t want to miss him.” Lottie looks up at that moment and sees us standing in the doorway. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you soon. I lo—” She stands and turns away from us to furiously wipe at her face.
I step toward my sister. “Charles? What happened?”
“It’s nothing. Liam’s just upset I can’t go to this party with him tonight.”
Liam? I thought her and that bellend broke up. “Liam?” The question is clear in my tone.
“We got back together, but I’m pretty sure he just broke up with me again.”
Fury drenches over me in a tidal wave. “I’ll end him.”
Jade puts her hand on my forearm, rubbing affectionately in an attempt to calm me down. “I’ve got this,” she says to me. “Lottie, I’m going to say this as delicately as I can, but that man is a fuckwit.”
Lottie sputters out a laugh, and I have to hold myself back from shoutingI love youat the woman who has ingrained herself into my life so thoroughly, I will never be able to extricate her.
“I’m sorry—actually, I’m not. He’s a twat who wouldn’t know his ass from his elbow even if it hit him in his stupid face. You,” she points aggressively at my sister, “are absolutely perfect. You are creative, kind, hilarious, and so damn beautiful. I want to know why that stuffy loser thinks he deserves you.”
“It’s complicated.” Lottie says, sounding dejected.
Jade looks over at me and then reaches to interlace our fingers together. I swear, I breathe easier with the feeling of her hand in mine. “It doesn’t have to be.” For the second time in five minutes, the instinct to blurt out that I love her is on the tip of my tongue, begging to burst free.
“Sweetheart, who are you talk—oh, Tieran, you’re here. Who is this?” Mum steps into the room, drying her hands on a tea towel covered in daisies.
“Mum, this is Jade, my…” My mind blanks, not knowing how I should introduce her. Friend? Boss? Lover?
“His girlfriend,” Jade finishes, and I snap my neck down to look at her, only to find she’s already looking up at me with a soft, slightly challenging look. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Stone.”
Mum rips her right out of my arms and envelopes her in a hug. “Call me Harriet, sweet girl. I’m so happy to meet you.” Jade stiffens momentarily, but then she slowly brings her arms up and hugs her back, closing her eyes and inhaling softly. It makes me wonder about the last time she received a mother’s hug.
Mum pulls back slightly, but only to yell out for Dad. “Charles! Come meet Tieran’s girlfriend!”
Charles Stone comes ambling into the room, looking down at his phone with glasses balanced on the tip of his nose. When he looks up, skepticism lines his eyes. “Do I know you?”
Mum smacks him on the arm, voice raising several octaves. “This is Tieran’s girlfriend, Charles.” Dad’s looks over at Mum, his eyes softening a fraction in a way they only ever have for her.
“Right. Nice to meet you.” It’s a lukewarm greeting at best as they shake hands, and a weird silence fills the cramped hallway.
“I’m going to show Jade around before dinner. We’ll be back.” I push at her lower back to lead her out of the sitting room and up the stairs until we’re standing in the bedroom I lived in for the greater part of my adolescence.
She slowly walks around my room, noting the blue plaid bedding, old school textbooks, a rugby ball signed by the National Team from when I was seven, and framed photos lined up on my wardrobe. Her eyes catalogue every bit of this room, seeing what she can put together about what she doesn’t already know about me, filling in the blanks from my childhood.
“Girlfriend?” I prowl closer to her, resenting the distance between us.
A sheepish look fills her eyes. “Was that okay? I know we haven’t talked about it, and maybe we should have before I said anything, but?—”
I bring my hand up to and cup her neck. “Jade.”
“—it just felt right and?—”
“Jade.” I lean my forehead against hers, pushing her back against the wardrobe.
“But if you’re not ready, we can just pret?—”
“I love you.” The second the words are out of my mouth, I feel a relief so acute, my knees threaten to buckle.
