by A. S. Kelly
I like being here, in this apartment which at first glance could seem cold and bare, but which actually emits a warmth that wraps you up. I like the feeling that I get every time he touches me, running from my mouth to my stomach, when he talks to me a bit too intensely and lowers his voice.
I like all of it, dangerously so.
“Come on,” he says, moving away. He holds out his hand for me. “Let’s go to bed.”
I let myself be pulled along towards his bed, I sit down and he gently pushes me to the mattress. I lay my head on the pillow and inhale his scent which feels like home to me now.
Then he stands up like he’s about to leave me and I grab onto his hand and squeeze it tightly. He jerks his head round to look at me in search of an explanation I’m not able to provide. I don’t know how to explain in words how I feel right now, what I need almost as much as I need air to breathe.
He looks at me for a few seconds before exhaling deeply and lets his hand drop.
Disappointment fills me immediately.
I feel small, cast aside into a corner.
I hear his steps walking away from me as I close my eyes and swallow my dignity, but then the mattress sinks and I can feel his heat next to me. I open my eyes, begging my heart to take it easy because I don’t want him to realise it’s going nuts. Then his arms are around me.
Ian is hugging me.
And what I feel is life. Real life. It’s a life to be shared, out in the open without secret hiding places, without nightmares, without fear.
It’s a life worth living.
His grip isn’t forced, he’s not doing it because I asked him to. He’s doing it because he wants to.
His arms squeeze my hips and his lips brush against my hair and I feel his breath on my neck. He breaks my barriers making them crumble down dangerously.
My entire body trembles at this new emotion.
“You’re shaking,” he whispers, moving in closer; I feel all of my muscles relaxing, and it’s strange because I’m in Ian’s bed, my body is touching his and I’ve never felt so safe in my life.
We stay in bed, intertwined.
Nothing else happens. There are no other words or explanations. There’s only our breathing that fills the space and an intimacy which I’ve never felt before. I’m in Ian’s arms and everything is out of place and so wrong, but in my eyes, it couldn’t be more right.
“Riley,” he whispers, making me shiver. “You can trust me.”
I close my eyes and do as he says, sinking into the tenderness of his voice.
I wake up in a fog, feeling a strange weight on my chest and stomach. I lift my head and it takes me a few seconds to understand what’s happening. Ian’s head is on my chest and his hand is on my hips.
Panic assails me.
I move just slightly and he pulls away from me and turns on his back. The apartment is dark but from the light creeping in from outside the curtains, I can see his hard profile, his tensed jaw and his lips pursed subtlety.
He doesn’t seem relaxed or comfortable here with me and I don’t know what the hell I had in mind. What was my head telling me when I asked him to get into bed with me?
I get up, moved by anger.
I can’t do it. I can’t let myself get caught up in him, his nearness, his warmth. I can’t run here and hide in this space just to avoid being forced to face myself.
He can’t bury everything with him or I won’t be able to handle it, because something’s coming. I can feel its hot breath on my collar, and as much as I try to keep it away, it’ll be back to drag me down into the darkness.
It’ll come and take everything away with it.
It’ll take me too.
24
Ian
Present
I get off the bus, thrusting my gym bag over my shoulder, and head down towards the changing rooms with my headphones plugged in, trying in vain to calm my nerves with music. I go in and sit down on the bench, resting my elbows on my knees and let my head fall into my hands.
Someone shakes my arm. I lift my head just enough to see who it is and find the coach standing in front of me, his arms crossed. I remove my headphones and stand up, in respect.
“You’re worked up. You’re never like this before a game.”
“I’m not.”
He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head.
“Everything’s fine, I’m ready.”
“Not judging by your face. You look like you’re facing your first Pro12, like you’re ready to run to the toilet and heave your guts up.”
“Well, that’s not the case, I can assure you.”
“I hope not, boy, because you’re the captain now, and you’ll be on the field from the first minute of the game. Don’t make me regret my decision.”
“You won’t, Sir.”
“I hope so. For your sake.”
He looks at me for a few more seconds before turning to Scott and John who are pissing around, as usual.
I hear him raise his voice and get them back in line before I stick my earphones back in and let the music relax me, helping me to concentrate on heading outside with the others. I’m one of them, a Lion, ready to get on the field and wreak havoc – but my thoughts are elsewhere.
I’ve let someone come into my life and mess with my emotions, my moods and my thoughts. I’m playing a game, about to lay down my hand, aware of what I have to lose.
Everything.
I could lose her too.
For once in my life, I’m taking a risk.
I jump to my feet and take out my headphones, throwing them onto the bench.
“Hey, mate,” Jamie walks up to me with his hands on his hips. “Anything wrong?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Huh. Doesn’t seem that way,” he comments, nodding towards my phone on the bench.
“Just a shitty song, that’s all.”
“A song, huh?” I shrug and start getting undressed.
“If you have a problem or don’t feel like your head’s in the right place right now…”
“I’m great, Jamie.” I say raising my voice a tone.
“It’s my job to make sure you are.”
“Everything’s fine,” I add, softer.
“Okay,” he says doubtfully and starts to walk away, but he speaks again. “I almost forgot…One of the security guys says he let someone in under your name.”
I snap my around head to look at him.
“I see we’re making progress,” he comments with a look on his face that is just waiting to confirm what he’s already assumed.
“What? No, it’s not what you think.”
“Uh-huh.”
“We’re friends.”
“Puh-lease.”
“Piss off.”
He lifts his hands. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Well, go and keep doing it somewhere else.”
“Reserved seats, eh?” Scott adds, butting into the conversation.
“You ever mind your own fucking business?”
“There are no secrets between us. Come on, spit it out,” John adds, joining in too.
“Shouldn’t we be concentrating right now?”
“Nah. Actually, a minute of distraction is just what you need to calm those nerves,” Jamie intervenes.
I huff and start to put on my kit.
“So?” Scott urges.
“You don’t really think I’m going to talk about it with you all?”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re all arseholes, that’s why. With big mouths and no brains.”
“All this fuss over a woman? Come on, like we couldn’t relate?”
I shoot Scott a hard stare.
“Oh, Jesus, good thing she’s just a ‘friend’,” he says, winding me up and elbowing Jamie who smiles, in on the joke.
“I’ll kick your arse, Scott.”
“Try it. I’ll have you on the ground in twenty seconds.”
“Sure about that?” I move in
closer to him, threatening.
“That’s enough now!” Jamie returns to his usual role as captain. “Both of you. And Ian, calm down, okay? They were just kidding.”
I nod, taking a step backwards.
“Now, move your arse, Scott. Warm-up is starting in a few minutes.”
Scott walks away without another word as I sit on the bench to tie my shoes.
“I haven’t finished with you,” Jamie says, pointing his finger at me. “I want to know everything, got it?”
“Shouldn’t you be at home resting, or off on the bench watching the game?”
“I can’t leave you all alone. You’ll fuck it all up.”
“You’re really hating not being captain right now, aren’t you?”
“I can afford the break,” he bounces back with a smile. “You – not so much. Anyway, no use trying to change the subject.”
“We weren’t talking about anything else.”
“There’s always something more important.”
“Please don’t start with one of your lectures now, alright? All I did was invite her to the stadium, seeing as you weren’t about to do it.”
“You’ve never invited any women to your games.”
“What’s the point?”
“I know how you think, O’Connor.”
“You think you know everything, don’t you?”
“Obviously. You can bet your arse I know more about sports than you do, more about women and men too.”
I laugh, shaking my head. Incredible.
“Are we going to make a move this time?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“I told you, we’re just friends.”
“I have friends too, Ian, but they don’t have this effect on me.”
I scoff. “She’s just—”
“Riley,” he concludes, resting a hand on my shoulder. “Try not to fuck it up this time, okay?”
“Fuck off, Jamie.”
“I will, don’t worry. For now, let’s just give them a show out there,” he says, one last quip before heading out the door.
“Two minutes, boys!” The assistant coach calls us out. I stand up and take a big breath before going out there and doing the only thing I know how to.
Win.
25
Riley
Three years earlier
After searching for Leslie for more than a half an hour, I give up and decide to go home. I never should have come to this stupid party, but Jamie wouldn’t let me wriggle out of it. It’s an important night for him: he was just nominated captain of the team and he really wanted me to be here. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever set foot in the blue room. I was so nervous that I asked my friend from work to come along, and she jumped at the chance. She loves rugby; well, she loves the players, my brother in particular, and the thought of meeting some brought about an uncontainable reaction in her. I’m sure she’s already off in a corner somewhere trying to bag herself one.
I leave the building, hugging my coat across my chest, and dig around in my bag for my purse.
Mission Impossibile.
The bloody clasp won’t open.
I can’t stand Leslie’s bags. They’re too small, too blingy and too technological.
I huff, leaning my back against the wall, planning to slide down it and take a quick nap on the pavement until I sober up, or Leslie comes back and teaches me how to open this damn bag, when a warm voice speaks in my ear.
“Hey, I was looking for you.”
Shit.
“You’re leaving already?”
“Yes, exactly: it’s late and I have work tomorrow.” I try to get him away from me.
“I can give you a lift if you like, my car’s parked over there.”
He brushes my face with his hand, and I feel like I might throw up.
I try to push him away and get back to my senses a bit, to politely tell him to piss off, but it’s even more difficult than opening this damn bag.
“I was just about to call a cab, actually,” I say flatly, going back to digging through my bag.
“The night doesn’t have to end here,” he insists.
Jesus Christ, what idiots these sports freaks are.
“No, thank you. Really, I have to get home.”
Who let me drink so much?
“Something wrong?”
A voice from behind us makes us both jump a little.
“Hey Ian. I was just leaving…”
“Riley!”
What an idiot.
“Of course, Riley, I was just about to drive her home.”
“That’s not true.” I feel the need to justify myself.
Ian crosses his arms over his chest and looks at me sternly.
“She’s actually coming with me,” he says decisively.
Seriously? I must’ve missed something.
“I was just looking for her actually,” he says, moving in closer towards us.
“I didn’t know you two were together,” he tries one more time; I feel like I’m caught in a testosterone-fuelled tug-of-war.
Athletes. Muscles beat the brains ten to one.
“Now you know.”
He raises his hands and shoots me a look I can’t discern and then makes off towards the car park.
“Everything okay?”
“I could have held him off by myself.”
“Sure.”
Even drunk I pick up on the ridicule in his voice.
“But you know, I owe you, so…”
I smile, instinctively.
“Come on, I’ll take you home.”
“Oh, no,” I suddenly wake up a little. “No one’s taking me anywhere tonight.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Not too drunk to understand that you’re trying to…”
“I’m not trying anything, Riley.”
Did my name always sound this beautiful?
“I just want to make sure you get home. Alright? Give me the address and I’ll call a cab for you.”
He looks at me as he waits for an answer, his phone in his hand.
“Well?”
Address. Yep, got it. That shouldn’t be too hard.
“You don’t remember?” he presses.
“I’m trying to. Just give me a second.”
“Take two,” he says, teasing me again.
Okay, they’re all arseholes.
I step away from the wall and take a few paces along the pavement, tapping my finger against my temple.
Think, Riley, think. This is not difficult.
I turn my head towards him, starting to see stars; maybe I’m moving too quickly, because the next thing I feel after I close my eyes is two strong arms grabbing me, stopping my fall.
I hear his voice, I feel someone lightly slapping my face. I feel his heat but I’m too tired and I can’t open my eyes to tell him I don’t need his help.
I don’t need anybody’s help.
I can do it, I just need to rest for a bit. I need a two-minute time-out.
Then I’ll tell him to piss off.
26
Ian
Three years earlier
“Oh, my God!”
My coffee almost spills right over my hand.
“I can’t believe it!”
I hear her slide out of bed and move around the apartment.
“You!”
I turn to see her pointing her finger at me.
“You’re a…you’re…”
I sit on a stool, looking at her in amusement.
“How could you?!”
I let her vent. I understood right away that all the bolts are tight on this one.
“Jesus Christ! How did I end up in your bed?”
She storms towards me, clutching the sheet to her chest.
“It’s useless.”
“What is?” she yells.
“You covering yourself with that sheet. You’re fully dressed under there.”
She stops in front of me and peeks under the sheet.
“Oh,” she says in amazement, but still without letting it drop.
“Would you like some coffee?”
“Do you think that would be appropriate?” she asks, wrinkling her forehead.
Then she paces around the counter and sits down opposite me.
“One sugar and some milk please.”
I smile in spite of myself.
I pour her a cup and hand it to her. She takes it and gulps it down.
“Thank God.”
“Er, my name is Ian.”
She looks at me sideways.
“And we…”
“If we’d had sex, I assure you that you’d remember it.”
Her eyes widen to better catch my expression.
“You’re right. We didn’t do it. If we had, you wouldn’t be so bitter.”
“Bitter? Me?” I say, pointing to myself.
“Uh-huh,” she grunts, nodding and taking another sip of her coffee. “You’d be all happy, dancing around the house singing.”
I throw my head back in laughter.
“How did I end up here?”
“You couldn’t remember your address.”
“That’s true,” she says putting her hand to her head. “That open bar was a terrible idea.”
“That’s usually how it works.”
“And you? What were you doing there?”
Is she serious?
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“My brother,” she shrugs. “He convinced me to come.”
“Your brother?”
“Jamie Murray?” she says uncertainly.
She takes another sip of her drink and my throat constricts.
Fuck.
“Jamie Murray is your brother?”
I just brought my new captain’s sister home.
Perfect. They’ll kick me off the team for an entire season. Or he’ll break my leg at the first chance he gets.