by Sienna Blake
With the hum of the fridges and the rasp of our breaths as the only sound between us, we stared at one another. I wondered if she was thinking of me standing there at the bathroom door, looking at her naked. Because I certainly was. I wondered if it was stirring something deep inside of her. Because there was no denying it did for me.
We stood there until another announcement blasted over the intercom for the same Swiss deal.
Kayleigh rubbed at her eyes and nodded toward the fridge to her left. “Pies are there,” she said.
I turned on my heel and started walking back toward the car. I never wanted feckin’ pie.
The car ride back home was filled with a tense silence that threatened to choke off my air supply, blacken my vision, and send me careening off the icy road. We got out of the car in silence, we walked up the driveway in silence, we stepped inside Ma’s house in silence.
As we were hanging our coats, Eoin came crashing down the hallway, a huge smile on his face. Kayleigh gasped when he swept her up into his arms without warning and pressed his lips to hers. Wedged into the tight corner, I was forced to watch him kiss her.
Worse, I was forced to watch her kiss him back.
It felt like an eternity before Eoin eased Kayleigh back to the floor. I avoided her eyes as she straightened her beanie on her dishevelled hair.
“So, where’s the pie then?” Eoin asked, eyes searching my empty gloves, then Kayleigh’s empty mittens.
I ignored him as I slipped past her still held in his arms. I didn’t even take the time to unlace my boots, instead tracking muddy prints all over the hardwood floors.
“Darren,” Eoin called after me nonetheless. “Darren, did you get cherry?”
Reason #1 To Really, Really, Fucking Really Dislike Kayleigh Scott: she wasn’t mine.
Kayleigh
I thought about him as I scrubbed the dishes, elbow deep in sudsy water that could cut through the toughest grease but somehow not through the image of his eyes on me. When I ran out of dishes to clean, I thought about him as I listened to Michael ramble on about the intricacies of corporate law, nodding along as if I wasn’t listening out for someone else’s voice. I thought about him while wandering the cosily cluttered house, trying to convince myself I wasn’t searching for one face in particular in each family picture I stumbled upon.
Because that face wasn’t Eoin’s.
That voice wasn’t Eoin’s either.
He was Darren.
He infuriated me, frustrated me, annoyed me, irritated me, boiled my blood and wiggled his way beneath my skin. I found his melancholy unapproachable, his moodiness unlikeable, and his grumblings nearly incomprehensible. He pushed buttons I didn’t know I had, and based on the gargoyle-like rigidity of his features, he seemingly didn’t have any for me to press in return. I did not like his attitude, I did not like his standoffishness, I did not like his perpetual frown, I did not like his broad shoulders that cast a wide shadow over the bright little living room, and I certainly did not like his grey eyes.
Or were they blue?
Darren O’Sullivan was, without exception, an entirely disagreeable man with no redeeming qualities in sight, and I had nothing but negative things to say about him for anyone unlucky enough to ask.
But for his younger brother, Eoin, I had nothing at all to say.
When I returned from the store with Darren, I’d almost forgotten I was here with Eoin visiting his family till his lips were smashed against mine.
So it came as even more of a shock than it should have when Eoin suddenly dropped down to one knee in front of me before I’d even finished my first bite of rum raisin pudding later that evening.
Maybe if I hadn’t been brooding about how rude Darren was, I would have noticed Eoin pacing back and forth in agitation as he chewed at his nails in front of the flickering fireplace.
Maybe if I’d been listening to anything but my blood rushing in my ears, I would have heard Ma pause her crocheting on the couch and ask him with a raised eyebrow, “What in the world is wrong with you, boy?”
Maybe if I wasn’t too busy formulating in my mind a put-Darren-in-his-place, make-him-feel-guilty, give-out-to-him speech (one I’d never in a million years deliver), I would have seen Aubrey, legs crisscrossed on a rug where she played checkers with Noah, snatch up her spiked hot chocolate to keep it safe from Eoin’s thundering steps as he marched toward me with determination in his eyes.
Maybe if Darren hadn’t consumed my world, I could have had a tiny bit of a warning for what was about to happen.
But none of that mattered anymore, because there I was sitting petrified in a tufted leather chair with a fork full of crumbling pudding suspended halfway to my mouth, thinking about his older brother when Eoin dropped to one knee.
My fork clattered to my plate. If Eoin’s present position hadn’t already stolen the rest of the family’s attention, the noise certainly did the job.
“What are you doing?” I whispered. I may as well have yelled it out, given every pair of eyes in the living room was already fixed on us.
Eoin tried to grab the blue and white dessert plate from my fingers so he could take my hands into his, but I resisted, squeezing onto the porcelain edges as if my last name depended on it.
“Eoin…” I laughed nervously, glancing to Ma, who had paused mid-stitch. “Eoin, very funny.”
One by one Eoin peeled back my fingers, pulled my plate out of reach and laid it on the floor next to his bent knee. Maybe his shoelace is untied, I thought, only to have another wave of desperation crash over me when I saw he was wearing very shoelace-less slippers a few sizes too small.
I leaned forward in my chair, and this time it was a plea when I whispered, “Eoin.”
Even the snap of the flames in the stone fireplace seemed to hold their breath as Eoin squeezed my fingers, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth. “Kayleigh Scott...”
“Oh, no,” Aubrey gasped, looking over at us between parted fingers like this was a scene from a horror movie.
Noah pushed himself to his feet, perhaps to intervene, but Michael stuck his arm out to stop him. Michael had been reading the Financial Times with a glass of sherry next to Ma on the couch. Now he stared at Eoin’s back in the same way you stare at a crash on the highway.
Darren was in the chair in the farthest corner of the living room near the fireplace, reading by the light of a lamp. He hadn’t even bothered to put down his book.
“Kayleigh Scott, you are the moon to the chaotic waves of my soul,” Eoin started, eyes still closed. “You are the sunlight to the budding of my heart.”
Well, that was surprisingly beautiful. At least I’d have those lines to hold onto for the rest of my “till death do they part”.
“The gravity to my rugby ball.”
Bit of a slip there… Aubrey barely contained her groan.
Eoin’s hands clung to mine. “You’ve completely turned my life around. I’m a new man because of you. You’ve made me want things I never thought I’d want before.”
I winced as Eoin sucked in a deep, wobbling breath.
“So…Kayleigh Scott…” Oh God. Oh God. “...would you do me the great honour...” He paused again, his eyes moving behind his eyelids. “The greatest honour, really,” he added, “...the honour of all honours...the MVP of honours...the Rugby World Cup Champion of honours...the—”
“Jesus Christ,” Aubrey cried. “Spit it out already.”
Eoin opened his eyes and smiled up at me. “Kayleigh Scott, will you be my...will you be my Dublin gal?”
I stared down at him in confusion. “Huh?”
Eoin leapt to his feet, unable to contain his excitement any longer. “Move to Dublin, Kayleigh! I want you to move to Dublin.”
A collective sigh circled the living room. I sagged against the well-worn back of the leather chair in relief.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Aubrey groaned, collapsing onto the checkerboard and sending black and red pieces scattering across the rug.
I caught Darren’s eyes glancing at us from over the top of his book to which he immediately returned, once again hiding his face from me.
“I need a drink,” Michael said, folding up his newspaper.
Noah offered him a hand up from the couch and added, “Something strong, eh?” They left the living room together.
Ma just chuckled under her breath and returned to her crocheting.
Eoin frowned in confusion at everyone over his shoulder. “What?” he asked. “What? What’s wrong?”
Gently, I placed my hands on either side of his face and turned his head back toward me. “Eoin,” I said as patiently as possible. “Eoin, I like you, I do, but I don’t have a place here and—”
“Move in with me,” Eoin blurted out.
I almost burst out laughing, the idea was so ridiculous. “Eoin, I… I…”
His puppy dog eyes searched mine as my lips searched for the words. “What?” he asked. “You don’t want to?”
“No, it’s just that...umm...”
“Candace needs a roommate,” Aubrey interjected.
I leaned around Eoin’s muscular thighs to see her. “What’s that?”
She glanced up at Eoin, who was watching her, and very diplomatically said, “If moving in with Eoin is a teeny tiny bit too big of a leap after a weekend together, you could move in with Candace. She lives above a dive bar not far from The Jar, and if you don’t mind a little late-night noise, she has an extra room right now.”
Eoin grinned over at me excitedly. “It was meant to be, Kayleigh. Written in the stars.” He swept his arm over his head. “So you’ll say yes then?”
“Eoin, I can’t just—I mean, I don’t even have a job.”
I thought for sure this was my saving grace. I thought for sure there was no way he could snap his fingers and have a job for me right then and there. I thought I’d avoided disaster.
Turns out I was barrelling right toward it.
“Darren will give you a job.”
In the far corner, I heard Darren’s book snap closed. Both he and I responded with an immediate and firm, “No.”
In my mind I added a “fuck, no”, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if Darren added one of his own as well.
“What?” Eoin threw up his hands. “Why not? It’s perfect.”
Darren crossed his arms over his chest. His features were dark even in the light of the reading lamp, his eyes cold despite the warmth of the fireplace no more than an arm’s length away.
“I don’t need anybody at the garage,” he said. “It’s just me and that’s the way I like it.”
Eoin frowned. “Weren’t you just telling me how badly you needed a receptionist to help you get organised and stuff?” he asked.
Aubrey craned her head around to look at Darren as well, who shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He scratched at the back of his neck. “I filled the position,” he tried.
It sounded even to me like a shot in the dark.
“Filled the position?” Aubrey’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Filled the position you just said you have no need for?”
Before Darren could respond to this, I leapt in. “It’s fine,” I said. “It’s really fine. I’d be a terrible receptionist anyway. I’m no good with…umm…phones.”
Eoin dismissed me with a wave of his big paw of a hand. “Darren will teach you.”
Darren set aside his book on top of the already wobbly stack of books next to the reading chair and pushed himself to his feet.
Our eyes met across the living room and time froze.
The ceiling was no longer striped with wooden rafters but dotted with a multitude of stars. The walls transformed into a thick forest of windless pines on either side of us, and the chill of midnight doused the red and yellow and orange flames of the fireplace. Beneath our feet the softness of the rug hardened to asphalt, a thick yellow stripe streaking between us. My lungs seized as an invisible seatbelt tugged against my chest as I stomped on my failing brakes. In the flash of the blinding headlights I could see him and he could see me and we each knew: we were on a collision course.
Working together meant more time together when what we needed was less. Working together meant hours without Eoin, which would be disastrous since I managed to forget all about Eoin in a fifteen-minute trip with Darren to the store for pie. Working together meant lingering gazes, tense silences, brushing fingers. Working together meant day after day of temptation.
Working together meant wrenched metal, shattered glass, fire and smoke.
As we looked into each other’s eyes, we both knew neither of us would survive the crash.
I blinked and in an instant the living room was back, Darren’s eyes were gone, and he was stepping toward Eoin.
But the panic was still there. In him. In me.
“I’m just a mechanic.” Darren sounded as if he was almost pleading. “I’m buried in oil and grease all day. All I know how to do is turn a wrench and twist a screwdriver. I don’t know how to train a receptionist.”
Aubrey threw a red checker piece against Darren’s chest from her place on the rug. “Don’t be silly,” she laughed, because she couldn’t smell the burning tyres as Darren and I tried to stop the inevitable collision. “You don’t have to train her at all—Kayleigh’s perfectly capable of using a phone.”
“You really don’t want me anywhere near an office,” I said, standing as well. “I’m messy and unorganised and I’m really just scatter-brained when it comes to numbers.”
Eoin moved over and knocked the wind out of me with his arm around my shoulders. “Trust me,” he grinned. “That office at the shop can’t get messier than it already is.”
My heart raced with desperation as I slipped from underneath his arm. “I actually have a bit of savings I could dip into and—”
“And the shop is really quiet around the holidays and…” Darren was closer. Too close. “…and—”
“And I’d need time off to visit my mom,” I said. “And—”
“—and there’s all that software Michael keeps talking about that could keep me organised and—”
“Do you two have a secret history I don’t know about which is the real reason why you’re making such a big stink about a silly job in a silly shop?” Both Darren and I turned to look at Eoin, who had crossed his big arms over his wide chest. My stomach flipped when his puppy dog green eyes narrowed as he frowned from me to Darren, who I didn’t dare look over to.
Had it been that obvious? Had everyone else felt the same electricity that I felt? Had they all felt the same thrill I had, like a child rubbing their socks under the sheets and then ducking under in the dark to see the sparks? Had he caught me glancing over at Darren, secretly hoping that I’d catch him glancing over at me, too?
Eoin uncrossed his arms and whacked both of us on the back as he let his head fall back in big, hearty laughter. “The thought of you two together,” he cackled. “Hilarious!”
Darren and I eyed each other nervously before each half-heartedly joined in with Eoin’s obvious merriment.
“Ridiculous,” I added, watching for Darren’s reaction.
But he wasn’t looking at me any longer. He patted Eoin on the arm and said, “Of course Kayleigh can come work at the shop if she wants.”
He grabbed his book from the pile next to the fire and kissed Ma on the cheek before slipping silently out of the living room. I was watching him go when Noah and Michael returned with a bottle of whiskey.
“What’d we miss?” Noah asked, wrapping Aubrey in his arms on the floor.
“Kayleigh was just saying how she’d say yes to Darren’s job offer,” Eoin said. “Right, Kayleigh?”
Eoin craned his neck so that he could see my face. Nervously, I glanced around the room and found his family all smiling encouragingly up at me. I usually couldn’t say no to even one person. So saying no to Eoin plus his wonderful family who had been nothing but kind and warm and welcoming to me…well, that was never goi
ng to happen.
Just like a mangled car was never going to drive again.
Just like the shattered pieces of glass strewn across the highway were never going to weave themselves back together.
Just like the black smoke hanging over the fiery crash was never going to do anything but choke your lungs and bring water to your eyes.
I managed a tentative smile as I looked up into Eoin’s expectant wide eyes.
“Yes?”
Kayleigh
One advantage of living above a college dive bar that I didn’t expect was the free and eager moving service.
“Thanks a million, fellas.”
From the couch, surrounded by stacks of boxes, I watched with awe as Candace leaned out the cracked open door to give each of the three muscular jocks crammed in the narrow spiral staircase leading up from the bar to our apartment a bright red kiss on their stubbled cheeks.
“Sure you don’t need any more help?” the one with the rugby jersey on asked, craning his neck into the apartment.
“Toot-a-loo, Stuart.” Candace, at not a hair over five foot no matter what she tried to argue to the contrary, reached up to press her hand firmly against the big man’s chest. She flicked him on the nose when he tried to kiss the length of her petite arm.
“Don’t miss me too much,” she called cheerfully in her charming Brazilian accent as she closed the door after a little seductive wiggle of her fingers under her chin despite the boys’ desperate protests outside.
Turning to lean against the door, my new roommate crossed her arms over her chest and lifted a dark eyebrow. “Not bad, eh?”
I laughed as I checked my wristwatch.
“You managed to get me moved in in less than fifteen minutes,” I said. “I’d say ‘not bad’ is an understatement.”
Candace flicked her mane of long, curly raven hair over her shoulder and grinned. “I know, I know.” She gave me a wink as she twirled toward the fridge covered in stickers from around the world. “Sou incrivel.”