Page 90 of Heavy

“Damn it, Gene! Stop with the uncle shit!”

Unfortunately, I’ll need to go see my doctor to get re-prescribed my ADHD meds.Oh well. The appointment is made and I’ll be back to being able to focus in no time.

Gene’s still here after hours of talking and snacking. I can’t help but feel a little anxious about what Ronan will think if he comes back and finds us on the couch. I know I care way too much about his opinions, because even though Gene is my best friend, and this is technically my family’s cabin, I'm still worry what he’ll think when he walks in and sees her here.

The way he was talking before he left was as though he hoped I’d be naked when he got home, or at least with no panties on.

Shit luck for him, and I, he’ll be waiting for a minimum of five days until I’m done bleeding.

“It’s nice and warm tonight,” Gene comments. The sun’s gone, and I’m glad I hadn’t waited for Ronan to get home. “Have you ever gone skinny dipping in the lake?”

I giggle and kick her softly. “No.”

“Want to?”

My mouth drops open. “No!”

“You have a tampon in, who cares? I was going to make a shark joke, but it obvi doesn’t have the same effect.”

Shaking my head I roll my eyes. “I love you, sweet cheeks, but if he sees you naked I may have to unalive you.” I use the term she does when making her stupid bookish videos on social media. It has her laughing louder than I’d care to admit enjoying.

Only after she’s come down from the serotonin boost and takes a sip of water, does she ask, “Have you told him about your kinks?”

Oh boy.Here we go.

“We have similar tastes.”

She squeals and gives me a cheesy, big as fuck grin. “Family always comes in clutch—”

“I swear tofuck, Genevieve!”

I’m a second away from starting a wrestling match with her and messing up her freshly done hair when I hear the garage door opening. I didn’t even catch the sound of his bike until it pulled right in. My heart skips, and I can tell Gene’s a little tense too by the look on her face. All she knows about Ronan is that he was in prison, something I apparently spilled that night she took me home from the bar.

I slide off the couch, hands instinctively folding behind my back. Just as the door opens, I turn to Gene. “No handshakes. He doesn’t like being touched.” She presses her lips together, and we both wait.

Ronan strolls in, tossing his leather jacket onto the counter without a glance in our direction. He kicks off his boots at the door, then reaches to pull up his shirt. I think he’s just going to untuck it, but he yanks it straight over his head.

I’m a jealous bitch because I quickly raise my hand to cover Gene’s eyes, though she swats me away just as fast.

The sound of skin against skin catches his attention, and he turns his head toward us. His blue eyes flick between me and Gene, then settle on me for a beat longer.

He rubs his shoulder and heads to the sink. His back is a canvas of tattoos—dark, but not fully inked over, with glimpses of skin showing through. In those gaps, I can see bruises, several of them scattered from shoulder blades to his hip.

Before reaching into the cabinet for a cup, he looks over at us. “Why are you two just standing in the middle of the living room like that?”

Gene lets out a soft laugh. “Cal is nervous for me to meet you officially.”

He hums, and I groan, jabbing my elbow into her side, eliciting a yelp from her.

“Ronan, this is Genevieve, my best friend. Gene, this is Ronan, my...”

She’s rubbing off because I definitely almost said step-uncle; goddamn her.

The water turns on, and he shoves the cup under it. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for taking her out of the bar that night.”

“A pleasure, and no problem. We would’ve only gotten in your way.”

He turns to face us, leaning back against the counter as he takes a slow sip. His gaze drifts to Gene for a brief moment before settling on me—and then it stays there, unwavering.

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