Page 90 of Tiny Fractures
“And tonight will be equally fun,” Vada grins. “We should play another round of five hundred questions. What do you guys think?”
“Or maybe something else,” Cheyenne says. “Personally, I’m a big fan of truth or dare,” she says, looking around at us.
“How about strip poker?” Steve throws out, to the collective approval of the guys.
I look at Ronan, who grins at me.
“No way,” Vada protests. “I’m not stripping for all you horny perverts.”
“Okay, maybe just for me, then,” Steve says with a smirk.
Everyone laughs, and the mood is light.
After breakfast Ronan and I get back in the water, where we spend a good part of the day, splashing each other, making out, talking, making out again. The rest of the group joins us and we only exit the ocean to play a game of beach volleyball. Tori and Shane each pick their teams, and Ronan and I end up on opposite sides. Watching Ronan play, his muscles flexing, a light sheen of sweat making his lean body glisten in the sun, is a thing of beauty, and I try hard not to get distracted by him. He, on the other hand, is not as successful.
“Will you come to my tent again tonight?” I whisper to him when we take our positions at the net. I give him my most seductive smile. “Because I would really like a repeat of last night,” I say just as Steve jumps up next to me and spikes the ball clear past Ronan, scoring.
“What the fuck are you doing, Ran?” Shane yells. “You’re supposed to block, not stare at your girlfriend.”
“Sorry man, she’s not playing fair,” Ronan complains, and I grin at him mischievously. I turn around, watching Tori serve the ball when Ronan pinches my butt, making me jump. He laughs a beautiful, lighthearted laugh that rings in my ears. My team ends up winning the game, a fact that Shane blames squarely on Ronan.
“You’re too distracted by Cat,” Shane concludes.
Ronan shrugs but doesn’t argue. “What can I say? I have a hard time concentrating when I’m around her,” I overhear him say, and I smile. My heart is full with Ronan, our friends, and the fun we’re all having.
By the time the afternoon sun lowers on the horizon, I’m exhausted. After changing out of my swimsuit and into some jean shorts and a t-shirt, I go to sit by the fire pit next to Tori. Drew is passed out on a beach towel, snoring, and I spot Cheyenne, Summer, and Vada in the water.
“Ran wanted me to let you know he went with Zack and Steve to make another food-and-booze run,” Shane informs me. “They left when you were changing.”
He hands Tori a wine cooler, but I decline when he offers one to me, too. I’m too sleepy and hungry, and alcohol would just amplify my exhaustion.
“Oh, okay. Thanks, Shane,” I say, and lean back against the log.
Shane smiles at me for a second. “You know Ran’s in deep with you, right?” he asks, amused, and sits in one of the foldout chairs.
I blush. “What makes you say that?” I ask shyly.
Tori laughs. “It’s sort of really obvious,” she says, and Shane nods.
I enjoy hearing this, but then remember that Ronan hadn’t shared that we were together with his mom and dad. “He didn’t tell his parents about us,” I say, looking from the ground to Shane. “They only found out about Ran and me yesterday.”
Shane studies my face before he nods and leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’ve known Ran more than half my life. He’s my best friend, and I feel like I can say I know him really well,” he says, his tone somber. “But even I’m still learning things about him.” Shane takes a deep breath in, then exhales. “Ran is kind of a hard nut to crack, and man, he doesn’t let a lot of people in.” He chuckles, then his face becomes serious as he locks eyes with me. “I’ve seen Ran with a bunch of girls,” he says, and I frown at the thought of Ronan with other girls, “but I have never, ever seen him like he is with you.”
I release the breath trapped in my chest.
“He already cares about you more than he cares about anything or anyone else in his life,” Shane says. “Cat, you can’t take Ran not telling his parents about you as a reflection of how he feels about you and your relationship.” He leans back in his chair, his expression contemplative. “He’s just being protective of what you guys have.”
Shane’s words and sincerity ease my mind, but I’m also understanding more and more that I have some serious work to do in getting to know the boy I’m falling for head over heels.
I tap my index finger against my lips. “Tell me something about him that I don’t know—that not a lot of people would know.”
Shane looks at me, then at the crashing waves. It takes him a good thirty seconds before he replies, “Ran doesn’t actually like playing ice hockey,” he says matter-of-factly, and a smile tugs at his lips as I gape at him. “Well, I guess he likes it okay now. I mean, he’s good at it—really fucking good—but if it were up to him, he wouldn’t be playing like he does now; he wouldn’t play club and varsity; he wouldn’t be training like this. Maybe he wouldn’t play at all.”
“Why not?”
Shane leans forward in his chair again, grabs the half-full bottle of beer from the sand, and takes a sip. “I don’t think he likes the physicality of it. Hockey is a full-contact sport and it’s easy to get hurt, like really bad, especially in Ran’s position as center forward. You’re always getting checked or tripped, and audiences love a good fight, so there’s that.”
“But then why does he play it?”