The Player and the Pixie Page 84

Ronan and I had been quiet for so long that a small knock came from the room where Annie and Broderick had shut themselves away. My friend poked his head out.

“You two all right?” Rick asked, stepping into the lounge and glancing carefully between Ronan and me. Annie remained hidden in the bedroom.

I looked at my brother. “I’m not sure.”

Ronan heaved a heavy breath and laid his cards on the table. “Right, so here’s how we’re going to do this. I’ll not . . . get in the way of you seeing Sean.”

I gaped at him. “Has hell frozen over?”

He glowered. “Don’t be a smart-arse and just listen. I’m not saying I’m going to give you my blessing to run off to Vegas and get hitched, but we can see where things go between you two. Baby steps. But before I start playing nice with Sean, and you’re not going to like this part, Luce, I need you to start seeing a therapist.”

Again, it took me at least ten full seconds to process his words, and when I did they left me completely confused. “But Mam said it was embarrassing and could hurt your career, me seeing a—”

“I don’t care what Mam says. Let me deal with her. In fact, I’m going to make her go with you. You steal when you’re anxious, and our mother is a major source of anxiety in your life. And she is your mother, Lucy, the only one you’re ever going to have. So even though it might be easier to stick your head in the sand, you can’t just cut her out. You both need to deal with the issues between you if you’re ever going to get better.”

“But I live in New York. How are we going to have therapy sessions if we’re living in two different countries?”

“You can do it over Skype. Or I’ll even fly her over once a fortnight if need be. Either way, we’re doing this. I’ll try to get over my issues with Cassidy, but you have to work towards getting over your issues, too.”

I stared at him as I chewed on my lip, flabbergasted he was considering mending his bridges with Sean, even if there was a catch. I’d been all but ready to never see Mam again after my outburst in the sauna, but I knew that wasn’t fair. Ronan was right. She was the only mother I would ever have, and we needed to sort our shit out. If she was prepared to accept me as I was, then I was prepared to accept her as she was . . . even if she made me want to tear my own hair out sometimes.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” I told him as I shakily held out my hand.

He took it and we shook before Ronan pulled me into a massive bear hug, knocking the wind right out of me. I felt him hold me tight as he said with regret, “I’m sorry if I haven’t been there for you lately. It won’t happen again. And I’m sorry if I’ve been a brute. I just want you to be happy and safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

I didn’t say anything, just accepted the hug and the warm feeling of brotherly comfort. We only broke apart when Broderick said, “Aw, aren’t you two just adorable?”

I scowled playfully at my friend, at the same time feeling like a weight had been lifted. I hadn’t even realized it, but for a long time it had been hard to breathe. This heart-to-heart with Ronan had injected air back into my lungs.

He was watching me then, smiling and shaking his head. “Sean bloody Cassidy. You couldn’t have chosen an unlikelier candidate if you’d come home and told me you were in love with Donald Trump.”

I laughed loudly as Broderick shuddered.

“I’m sorry,” said Ronan, laughing softly as he cast his eyes in the direction of the bedroom where Annie was hiding. With a deep exhale, he walked to the door, knocked lightly and called in a gentle voice, “Sleep well, Annie dearest, because tomorrow I’m going to marry you.”

I could tell she was smiling when she responded in the tiniest voice, her face probably pressed to the door. “I love you, Ronan.”

He placed his palm against the wood. “I love you, too.”

And then, after bidding Broderick and me good night, he left.

I swear my heart glittered inside my chest at their tenderly whispered words. My brother could be a bullheaded oaf at times, but other times I thought he just might be the most romantic man in the world.

Chapter Twenty-One

@LucyFitz Judge Judy’s hair is the same color as her face is the same color as her table is the same color as her chair #randomthoughts

@BroderickAdams to @LucyFitz Hey, that rhymed :-)

@RonanFitz to @LucyFitz Do I need to repeat myself re: the acid tabs?

*Lucy*

I tried to track down Sean, to clear the air, to apologize, to throw myself at him, but he’d disappeared. Or—and perhaps more likely—he didn’t want to speak to me.

My phone was shattered, so I tried using Broderick’s to send him a text message. He didn’t respond.

I stopped by his room and loitered outside for twenty or so minutes, finally slipping a note under his door.

Sean,

I’m so sorry, about everything. My phone is wrecked, so you can reach me by dialing Broderick. We need to talk. I’m sorry.

-Lucy

PS I’m so sorry.

I think I finally lay down around 2:30 a.m., a chaotic bundle of nerves, and fell asleep closer to 4:00 a.m. When I woke the next morning, the suite was a riot of activity.

Out in the lounge, Annie and the other bridesmaids were having their hair and makeup done. She’d been entirely too nice and hadn’t woken me up. Having overslept, I was running late, and had just enough time to grab a shower before it was my turn with the hairdresser.

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