Taming 7 (Boys of Tommen Book 5)
Taming 7: Chapter 22

Two hours later, the Chinese food had been demolished right along with half of the contents of Mam’s sideboard; the one in the front room she kept locked that contained the alcohol and tins of biscuits and sweets she was storing for Christmas.

Of course, Hugh and I happened to possess the “missing” spare key of said sideboard and had managed to inconspicuously outsmart Mam by taking just a little bit at a time for years. Taking enough to get tipsy and have a gorge on chocolate, but not enough to tip her off or smell a rat.

“How am I supposed to keep up when you keep changing the rules?” Gerard demanded, tossing his last card down on the coffee table and swiping up a fancy little glass filled with sherry. “Fuck the pair of you,” he grumbled, taking a sip of his drink, pinky finger extended. “I know you’re cheating.”

“It’s Snap, Gibs,” Hugh chuckled, placing a card down on the pile. “You can’t cheat in Snap.”

“Snap!” Slamming her hand down on the huge pile, Katie squealed in excitement. “Again.”

“See?” Gerard’s eyes bulged as he pointed to the enormous stack of cards in front of Hugh and Katie. “Fucking cheaters.”

“Don’t hate the player, Gibs,” Katie snickered, leaning against my brother, who was sitting behind her on the armchair. “Hate the game.”

“Nope, Johnny and Shan definitely aren’t coming over,” I chimed in, reading from the text message I’d just received from Shannon. “Sorry, guys. We’re having an early night. See you at the coffee shop tomorrow. X. X. X.” Exhaling a dreamy sigh, I tossed my phone down on my lap and retrieved my bowl of ice-cream mixed with Baileys Irish Cream. “Aww.”

“I bet they’re doing something romantic,” Katie gushed.

“With candles,” I replied wistfully.

“And romantic music,” she agreed, taking a sip from Hugh’s beer bottle.

Gerard snorted. “I bet they’re fucking.”

“Gerard!”

“Gibs!”

“He’s right,” my brother laughed, dodging the elbow Katie aimed at his ribs. “It sounds like Cap’s doing more than just bulldozing Shannon’s life.”

“They’re certainly not sitting around playing Snap,” Gerard added, eyeing the coffee table with disgust. “What’s happening to us, lads? It’s Saturday night and we’re playing card games like a bunch of geriatrics when we should be out getting off our trolleys.”

“I’m only sixteen, that’s what’s wrong with me,” I offered. “And you three are only seventeen.”

“Not for long.” Waggling his brows, Gerard tossed a handful of Minstrels at Hugh. “A certain brother-in-law is turning eighteen at the end of the month.”

“You are so lucky to have your birthday on Halloween, babe,” Katie added. “How cool is that?”

“Just think, lad, your mam and dad must have had one hell of a Valentine’s that year.”

“Disturbing notion, Gibs,” Hugh groaned, popping a couple of Minstrels in his mouth before tossing the rest back at Gerard. “But impressive conception math.”

“Speaking of.” Scooping one final spoon of alcohol-laced ice-cream into my mouth, I set my bowl on the coffee table and sprang to my feet. “We need to talk Halloween costumes.”

“No.” Hugh shook his head. “We really don’t.”

“Yes, we do,” I argued, rubbing my hands together. “Mam’s throwing a party at the house for your birthday at Halloween. It’s fancy dress – and it’s not optional.”

“Woohoo.” Draining his sherry, Gerard stared into the empty glass before reaching for the bottle. “What are we going as this year, babe?”

Brimming with excitement, I swung around to give him my full attention. “Okay, so this year, since there’s an even ratio of girls to boys in our group, five on five, I was thinking we could all go as famous couples.”

Frowning in concentration, Gerard unscrewed the cap on Granny’s sherry bottle and took a deep swig. “I’m listening.”

“Picture this,” I told him, waving my hands around animatedly, “you and me, rocking it out in PVC leather.”

Confusion swept over his face. “Are we going as Mötley Crüe?”

“No, silly, Danny and Sandy,” I laughed. “From Grease.”

His eyes lit up. “I fucking love that movie!”

“I know. I’ve been working on our costumes already.” Smiling bashfully, I added, “So, for Joey and Aoife, I was thinking Joker and Harley Quinn.”

“Oh yeah, I can totally see that,” Katie said with an enthusiastic nod. “But will she want to dress up?” Shrugging, she added, “You know, after giving birth and all that?”

“Oh please, you’ve seen that body of hers,” I shot back. “The girl is even more smoking hot post-baby than she was pre-baby.”

“Agreed,” Katie replied. “I would kill for Aoife’s figure.”

“I know, right?” I beamed. “And then for you guys, I was thinking Edward and Vivian from Pretty Woman.”

“Huh.” Frowning, Katie tilted her head to one side and asked, “Wasn’t she a prostitute?”

“And didn’t he have gray hair?” Hugh added, looking equally skeptical.

“You’re blond, Hugh. It’s close enough. Make it work,” Gerard tossed out, thoroughly enjoying our granny’s Christmas sherry. “Now, don’t interrupt your sister’s creative process, dammit.” He took another huge swig from the bottle and waved a hand around aimlessly. “As you were, sweetheart.”

Smiling indulgingly at his adorable drunken expression, I quickly continued. “And then for Johnny and Shan, it’s a no-brainer.”

Katie smiled. “Romeo and Juliet?”

“Yes!”

She nodded her head in approval. “Good choice.”

I beamed back at her. “I know, right?”

“Wait.” My brother held a hand up. “Didn’t they both die in the book?”

“She’s talking about the movie version,” Gerard replied with a snort. “Dumbass.”

“Pretty sure the movie version met the same fate, Gibs,” Hughie drawled sarcastically.

“Well, they don’t die in my Ballylaggin version,” I shot back before quickly continuing. “And then for Liz and Patrick, I was thinking something a little edgier like Morticia and Gomez Addams – you know, to match Lizzie’s personality.”

“Oh my God, I love it,” Katie laughed, clapping. “Claire, you’re a genius.”

“I don’t see it,” Hugh tossed out. “First off, she’s blonde. Second, she doesn’t do fancy dress, and third, if she does show up, she’ll be with Pierce.”

“Goddammit, Hugh,” Gerard slurred. “Stop interrupting your sister’s creative process.”

“You might want to put down the sherry, Gibs,” Katie chuckled. “You’re getting a little feisty over there.”

“No need. It’s already gone.” He tipped the bottle upside down for emphasis, causing one lone droplet of chestnut-colored liquid to drip onto the back of his hand. Never one to be wasteful, Gerard quickly licked it up with his tongue. “See?”

“Ah, Gibs, lad. You’re going to have one hell of a sick head in the morning,” Hugh said, wincing. “A sherry hangover is fecking dreadful.”

“Liz already agreed to dress up as Morticia if Patrick will go as Gomez,” I told my brother, feeling smug. “And according to her latest text message, she won’t be going anywhere with Pierce.”

“They’re off again?”

“Yep.” I shrugged. “If the pendulum swings and they get back together before the party then he can go as Uncle Fester.”

“Girl doesn’t know where her head is at,” Katie mused.

“True that,” Gerard chimed in, snatching up a bowl of popcorn. “She’s been blowing hot and cold for years. Isn’t that right, Hugh?”

“Gibs.” My brother’s entire frame went rigid. “Don’t.”

“What did I say?”

“Nothing,” Hugh deadpanned. “Keep it that way.”

“Sorry, lad. Didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”

“You didn’t.”

“First love stings like a bitch, though, doesn’t it?”

“Gibs!”

“Oh, stop trying to cause trouble,” Katie laughed, reaching for another bottle of beer from the coffee table. “I already know all about it. Hugh told me when we first met.”

“Did he really?” Gerard grinned mischievously and tossed a piece of popcorn at my brother “He told you all about it?”

“I said that’s enough, lad,” Hugh snapped. “Nobody wants to hear it, lad.”

“I second that,” I agreed, good mood fading fast at the memory of the biggest betrayal of my childhood.

My best friend and my brother.

Yuck.

Aside from the fact that they were disgustingly close friends when we were kids, Lizzie broke the fundamental law of friendship in fourth class when she agreed to be my brother’s girlfriend.

It didn’t matter to me that it was totally innocent. In my eyes, it was a crime against girl code and had resulted in us not speaking for three whole weeks.

Never one to hold a grudge, I’d given in and resumed my post of being her friend, while I secretly counted down the days until they broke up and I got my friend back.

I had never admitted it at the time, and never would, but a lot of my anger was caused by a hefty dollop of jealousy. Not so much because Lizzie was going out with my brother. But because he had asked her, when Gerard never asked me.

Hugh was Lizzie’s childhood sweetheart and Gerard was mine.

Lizzie got a shot with hers, and I didn’t.

“The Hizzie era was like a million years ago.” Flopping down on the couch beside him, I threw my legs over his lap and sighed. “We’re in the Hatie era now.”

“The Hatie era.” Gerard threw his head back and howled with laughter. “Oh Claire-Bear, that sounds fucking terrible.”

“What?” I slapped at his arm. “It’s better than the Kughie era.”

“Kughie!” The term only caused Gerard to laugh louder. “I can’t … I can’t … ”

“Oh, shag off, Gibs,” Hugh chuckled, tension easing from his shoulders. “Like yours is so much better.”

“Yeah,” Katie snickered in agreement. “Clibsie.”

“Whatever, lad, I’d take Clibsie any day over Kughie.”

“Is that so, Glaire?”

Gerard choked out another laugh. “Glaire’s still better than Hatie.”

“Team Clibsie for the win,” I teased, fist-bumping Gerard. “Unlucky, guys.”

“Okay, team Clibsie,” Katie giggled. “Care to put your money where your mouth is and replace out who the superior duo is?”

“My money’s upstairs,” Gerard replied solemnly. “Walking around on four legs.”

“I was joking,” she chuckled, clearing off the coffee table. “Let’s play a game. Team Clibsie versus Team Hatie.”

“Hatie,” Gerard snorted.

“How about losers clean the kitchen after takeaway night,” she offered with a smirk. “Every Saturday night for a month.”

“Make it two months, and you’ve got yourself a deal,” Gerard counter-negotiated, attention piqued.

“Two months it is,” she challenged. “Do you accept?”

“Oh, it’s on like Donkey Kong,” Gerard replied, fully invested now. “You’re going down, Hatie.”

“What kind of game?” I asked, curious.

“What about Scrabble?” Katie offered. “You guys have a board, right?”

“Phone another friend there,” Gerard shot back with a big fat thumbs down. “Because it’s a no-deal from me.”

“Monopoly?”

“No, I can’t be dealing with any board games with words on them.”

“Poker?”

His eyes lit up with mischief. “Strip poker!”

“Ew, Gerard!” I balked. “Gross.”

“Uh, hello?” Hugh gaped at him before gesturing between us. “Full blood relatives in the room.”

“Ah come on, lad,” Gerard begged. “Take one for the team.”

“Hard pass,” Hugh deadpanned. “Move along, perv.”

“Ooh, ooh, I’ve got it.” Quickly standing, Katie made a beeline for the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a bottle of Dad’s Jameson and four shot glasses. “Let’s play Never Have I Ever.”

“Ooh, this could be dangerous.” Rubbing his hands together with glee, Gerard reached for the bottle. “Let’s do it.”