“Well that’s easy.” She shrugs. “She wants you silly.”
I look up at her and scrub my face.
“What I mean is,” I clear my throat. “I don’t know what she likes.”
Mack stops chewing and stares at me. Shame washes over me and I look away.
“Ronan,” she says in a voice that’s too high. “You’re blushing!”
I don’t reply. I think she’s going to laugh at me, but she doesn’t.
“Have you tried asking her?” Mack continues.
“No.”
“Right,” she snorts. “Because you’re… well, you.”
“Ye’re a girl…” I tell her.
“A woman,” she corrects. “But yes. I am of the female variety.”
“What do people like you want?” I ask.
“You mean women?” she smiles. “That’s a timeless question, Ronan. And one that you’ll never have the answer to. It changes every five minutes, and if you try to figure it out, you’ll just go mad.”
I nod because I suspected as much.
“Ronan, I was joking,” she laughs. “Sheesh, you’re so serious all the time. Just relax, will you?”
Silence falls between us, and I find myself wishing she’d gone with Crow. This is pointless.
“Look,” Mack says. “I can’t tell you what Sasha likes, because everyone is different. And even so, I think you kind of have to figure it out together. You know, it takes… like practice.”
She makes a face as she says it, and my cheeks burn.
“Do you know what I love about Lachlan?” she asks.
“What?”
“He just takes charge. He does what he wants. And he does it unapologetically. He doesn’t ask for permission to kiss me. He just does. If you’re so wrapped up in wondering if every little thing you do is wrong or right, then it’s not going to be enjoyable for either of you.”
“But what if she doesn’t fancy it?”
“Then she’ll tell you. And you fix it. Simple. It’s all about communication, Ronan, which I know isn’t your strong suit. But you can’t expect to figure all this shit out telepathically. You’ve got to put yourself out there a bit.”
The dog jumps into my lap again, and Mack reaches for another donut.
“But I will tell you one thing though, Fitz. If you want to make a play for Sash, you better do it soon. Girlfriend’s getting ready to pack her bags and get outta dodge, and I can’t say I blame her.”
“I have no idea what any of that means,” I tell her.
Mack groans and brushes the crumbs from her hands. “We have a lot of work to do, Ronan.”
Chapter Fourteen
Sasha
Emily flew in last night, and she hasn’t left Ma’s side. She’s taking it hard, and in a way I feel guilty that I got more time with her. But this is how Ma wanted it.
“She looks so different,” Em whispers. “I didn’t want to remember her this way.”
“So don’t,” I tell her. “She wouldn’t want you to, Em.”
“I’m going up to the roof,” she says. “I need some air.”
I nod and let her go. Emily is strong. And smart. And I know she’s going to do great things in her life. But this is going to leave a gaping hole in her heart. She’s too young to have lost both parents. She reminds me a little of Mack in that way. I see similarities between them. The tough fronts they put up for the world. Em’s always been like that.
With Amy fixing the dosage of Ma’s medicine, she’s managed to have a few lucid moments throughout the day. And I’m surprised when Emily leaves, she opens her eyes again.
I lay down beside her and try not to cry. When I look into her eyes tonight, I know it’s going to be the last time. She’s in too much pain to wake any more. And it isn’t fair to her.
So this has to be goodbye.
I hold her hand and talk to her. Anything that comes to my mind, I just blurt it out. I’m telling her about things that will never happen. A house I’ll probably never have. The names of my future children. Anything to keep my mind off what’s coming.
Ma watches me talk, but doesn’t respond. I don’t expect her to. She’s weak and tired. But I still want to hear her voice. Just one last time.
I promised myself I’d be strong for her. But I can’t. I’m too emotional. So eventually, I break down and just cry. She holds me, the way that mothers do.
“Tell me it’s going to be okay, Ma,” I whisper. “Because I don’t feel like it will. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”
I don’t expect her to say anything. But she does.
Her voice is faint and scratchy. But she speaks. For me.
“He says,” she forces out, “he will protect you.”
“What?” I blink at her, desperate for more.
But she doesn’t speak again. She smiles and pulls my face down so that she can kiss me on the forehead. And then she closes her eyes and falls back into unconsciousness.