“Hurry. I need you. Just take me.”
My cock is already lined with her heat, and she doesn’t need to ask twice. I push my way in, feeling the tight grip of her walls around me.
This is where I belong.
I lace our fingers together and flex my hips, sending us into ecstasy.
Chapter Thirty-One
Reilly
I slouch in the chair next to Anthony’s bed, staring at his stillness. It’s been three days now. Gwen and her parents drove back home to get some clothes, so I offered to stay behind to look after Anthony, promising to keep them updated with any changes.
But there are none.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, squeezing my eyes shut. This is so hard to see. He has a bandage all the way around his head, but that isn’t the worst of it. The beeping of the machines informs us that he’s alive, but his skin has lost its liveliness, bags circle around his eyes, and the only other thing that assures me he’s actually alive was the slight rise and fall of his chest.
I scoot forward until I can reach him with an outstretched arm. I hesitate and touch his hand. To my surprise, he’s warm. I’d expected him to be freezing, given the way he looks. I pull my hand away, remembering I had made love to Gwen this morning. Guilt eats at me. Here he was, lying in a hospital and hanging on for dear life while I was having sex with his sister.
The chair scratches against the floor as I stand, and my hands tug on my beard. If that damn heart rate monitor was attached to me, it would be going a hundred miles an hour. I lace my hands behind my head and pace in front of his bed. This would be a good time for me to practice what I need to say to him. Yeah, I could do that.
“That’s shite, and you know it," I tell myself, scrubbing my scalp with my knuckles. I glance at him again, wearing down a path in the floor from my pacing. I can’t practice a speech while he lies there, unconscious.
But is he?
The doctor said he had brain activity, so maybe he could somehow hear me. What’s the worst that could happen?
I plop back down in the chair, rubbing my palms on my thighs for a minute and taking a deep breath. “Alright. Christ, I have so much to tell ye, Anthony. I wish ye were awake to hear it.” I clear my throat, surprised by the emotion getting the best of me. “Yer scaring the hell out of us. Ye just lyin’ there. Yer the only one that can tell the police what happened. Ye need to wake up so we can find the bastard that did this to ye.”
A tear falls and all the guilt I have spills out. “I’ve told ye everything about me. Ye know about me da, me ma, Lucky... Ye know I was born in Ireland, and ye know that I'm half-Italian, too, so ye know I’m not from here. Ye know I haven’t really dated. Not cause I didn’t want to, but all those women ye tried to set me up with in the past... Well, they weren’t who I wanted. I’ve been in love with the same girl for ages, lad. I just never told ye.”
I wait a minute, naturally, to see if he would say anything, but he doesn’t… Obviously. “I never told ye because I never wanted to lose ye. Yer me best mate and yer always bending over backwards for me and my family. Ye always helped us when we needed it, so I didn’t want to betray ye trust, which”—I sigh— “is exactly what I did.”
I tilt my head back and curse. “Shite, man. I’m not explaining this well. What I’m trying to say is that I love Gwen. I love Gwen so fucking much. Ye don’t even know how bad it hurt to not be with her all those years. I couldn’t be close to her. I stayed away for ye, but when she came back, I knew I wouldn’t be able to deny what I felt any longer. It was easy when she was gone. I didn’t have to see her beautiful face or hear her laugh. Christ, her laugh…I’d do anything to hear it. It means everything to me. It’s another reason I bought Gredence Place. She loved it. I loved it. I thought it would be a good way for us to start our lives together.” I lean back in the chair, tired as hell of spilling these secrets.
“I’ve really fucked it up. If ye were awake, ye would probably punch me and I’d let ye. I don’t even know if buying the place was such a good idea now. I’m having it renovated, which is a drop in the bucket to the money I have now, but ye know that. Ye also know that I needed to find a wife, which I think I’m still mad at ye for not telling me about sooner. Stupid attorney-client privilege. Gwen agreed to marry me after we had already been seeing each other for a few weeks, but I was a complete arse and broke it off with her cause I was afraid I’d lose ye in the process. People might think it’s stupid, but yer friendship is a constant in me life. Something I need. Mostly because I’ve never really had anyone stay. Da died, Ma left to go back to Ireland, and Lucky died. I have you and I have Gwen. So, that’s why I haven’t said anything about it. I couldn’t handle it if I lost ye and I almost sacrificed Gwen in the process. But I can’t do that, lad. I can’t. I tried, but I love her more than anything. I always have and I always will. I don’t ever plan to give her up, but I’ve broken her trust a bit when it comes to me feelings about her. I don’t know how to tell her that I’ve noticed her. I’ve noticed everything about her since I’ve known her.”
My brows pinch when I think about how that sounded. “Shite, I swear I didn’t touch her or anything like that when she was underage. I swear it. I kept my distance. I have always kept my distance. Until now, that is. When she graduated college, I really wanted to ask her out. She is so beautiful. Not just her skin, but her heart. If I could earn it, I’d be a lucky lad.”
Anthony's heart rate monitor skips a bit before leveling back out. I get up to see if that meant he was waking up, but when nothing happens, I sit down again. “Well, that wasn’t cool,” I tease him, wondering if it would blip again. It doesn’t.
“Anyway, I should be telling ye this when yer awake. I left a message on ye phone the day… The day, uh…” −−I blink tears away— “The day ye were shot. I wanted ye to meet me at Gredence Place. I was going to walk ye through it and tell ye all the plans I had for it and how Gwen saw it, and bam! That’s how I was going to lay it on ye.” I tap my fingers against the chair, wondering what else to say.
“I’m sorry if that pisses ye off. I don’t want that. I want to promise you that I treat her like the queen she is. Ye won’t have to worry about that. I’ll let ye get a hit in though, for me breaking her heart the other day. I take full responsibility for that, and when ye wake up, ye can give me a good whack.” I chuckle, thinking about him rolling up his fancy shirt sleeves to hit me. He wouldn’t want to get blood on them, and I bet he’d have them dry cleaned the next day.
“I really need ye to wake up, Anthony. I know I’ve been a crappy friend lately 'cause of my own bullshit, but I need ye to wake up.”
The steady sound of his monitor beeping doesn’t change.
“I need to tell her I’m a billionaire. How do I do that? I don’t want her to think I’m telling her as a way of trying to win her over or anything. I know I can trust her, but I don’t think I’ve wrapped my head around it yet. Hell, I still live the way I usually do. Does that make me a bad billionaire? I really need ye advice. I don’t have anyone else to talk to about all this.”
More tears fall from my eyes, and I take his hand again. “I really need ye to give me some type of sign that yer in there, lad. Move a pinky or something. Come on, Anthony. Please,” I beg, watching and waiting for him to give me a sign, but nothing happens.
No movement. Not even a twitch. “Come on. Wake up! Wake the fuck up!” I yell as I stand in an angry frenzy, pulling my hair and kicking the chair, sending it smashing against the wall.
I finally break.
I tip over the cliff I’ve been hanging on the edge of for quite some time. I wail, sending out the pain that claws at my chest. I cry for Da, Grandpa, and Anthony. I cry for Gwen. I just cry.
I miss my family.
I miss my friend.
I miss my girl.
“I really need ye to wake up,” I say, mumbling one last plea into the room before banging my head against the wall. My cheeks are soaked from the tears I've been
crying. I wipe them away. I don’t want anyone seeing me like this. It isn’t a proud moment, but I am so damn angry. I’m sad, but I am definitely angrier than anything because everyone that ended up being in my life ultimately leaves me.
I am so tired of being alone.
Someone squats in front of me, and I hope it isn’t Gwen or her family. When I open my wet lashes, I see the doctor. The older man wears a sad smile and his soft brown eyes hold kindness, like he’s used to seeing this. “You okay, son?” he asks, sitting next to me with his back against the wall.
“I don’t know. I’ve kept a lot of things bottled up. Seeing him like this…”
“I get it. It’s hard. You want advice from an old buzzard like me? Not from a doctor’s point of view, but just another guy who has lived a little more life than you?”
“Sure. I’d be glad to hear it. Get me mind off everything.”
“I don’t know if it will do that. I just wanted to say that it’s okay to feel the way you feel. You're pissed off, so be pissed off. You’re sad, so be sad. You’re in love, so be in love. I lost my wife recently to cancer and I can tell you that I wish I wouldn’t have dragged my ass for so long to love her. I lost a few years. Years I can never get back. Forget everything else. Everything else is noise compared to the people who really love you. Life is about living, not waiting. Now, help an old man up. I can’t keep up with you young people.”
I chuckle and stand up myself, holding out my hand for him to take. After he gets up, he checks everything and points to the blip in Anthony’s reading from earlier. “Were you here for this?”
“Aye. I figured it was just a glitch.”
“No, I think that was him responding to you. That’s an increase in his heart rate. What were you talking about?”
“His sister. I told him how much I cared about her.”
The doctor smiles before he laughs. “Oh, yeah. That would invade any conscious mind. I wonder if he is kicking your ass in his sleep.”
“To be honest, I’m wondering that, too.”
Chapter Thirty -Two
Gwendolyn
It’s been nearly two weeks since my brother’s accident. He still hasn’t woken up, and Reilly and I are still living a secret. This time, instead of it being a mutual decision, it was mine. When my brother wakes up—not if, but when—he doesn’t need the extra stress of his little sister and best friend together. He needs to concentrate on getting well.
St. Patrick’s Day is this weekend and we still aren’t married. I try not to think about it too much, but the bank keeps calling, and since my brother is Reilly’s attorney, nothing can really be done to delay it. Lucky had been sure to make the contract pretty concrete. There’s no changing it.
“I have a surprise for ye.” Reilly places a blindfold over my eyes, blocking my vision.
“Reilly, what are you doing? I can’t see anything.”
He kisses my shoulder. “That’s the plan. Just trust me, okay? Do you trust me?”
“I trust you with all my heart.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Be careful. There’s a step coming up.”
I follow in faith, holding out my other hand just in case I run into anything. That feeling of not being able to see anything makes me extra cautious. I’m not as confident as usual, and I feel like, at any moment, I’d fall into oblivion or something.
“Where are we going?” I ask once my feet hit pavement. We’re in his old apartment, so there aren't any stairs. Those would have been terrible.
“Well, after the surprise, we are going to go see ye brother. The hotel room is still under my name. I know you like to see him every chance you get.”
My heart swells from his words. Since there had been no change in his condition, my family and I—including Reilly—went to see him every other day and on the weekends. Reilly is still paying Brock and me, and if it wasn’t for that, I’d be screwed with my bills right now. He must have a pretty good nest egg settled away, but I can’t stop thinking it’s something different, and it hurts that he won't tell me.
It doesn’t mean that I don’t trust him. I do, but it still hurts that he feels like he can’t tell me.
The sound of a car door opening pulls me out of my thoughts and Reilly helps lower me into the Mustang, which I know is his baby. He adores this car. I remember when he bought it. I had to have been around seventeen years old, but he had been saving for his dream car since he was twelve. I remember him telling Anthony all about it. I'd sit outside of Anthony’s bedroom door just to hear Reilly speak. I had the biggest crush on him then, and I can’t believe I’m here with him now, all these years later.
“What are ye all smiles about?” he asks, letting the engine roar as he revs it. He always likes to show it off.
“Just thinking about a good memory.”
“Well, I hope what we are about to see makes for another.”
“I can’t take the blindfold off? It’s kind of making me sick to be moving when I can’t see.” I hold my hand to my stomach and felt it roll. I still have stomach issues. I’ve lost weight, too—around five pounds, I'd say. I still have no idea what’s going on, though. The only thing that has been a constant factor is stress. I gag. “Pull over! Pull over!”
The tires hit the shoulder so quickly, I have to hold out my hand to keep me steady. Dust kicks up and blankets us. I unbuckle the seatbelt and open the door just in time to throw up. I can’t see where I threw up… I hope it landed outside the door, because I’d hate to have puked in the car Reilly worked so hard for.
His door slams, and before I know it, he’s taken off my blindfold and is staring at me with concern. “Gwenie, are ye okay?” he asks as he softly runs his fingers along my cheeks, making sure my hair is out of the way.
“I’m fine. That’s so weird. I haven’t puked in a few weeks.”
“We don’t have to see the surprise. It’s fine. It isn’t finished yet anyway. Let’s get you to the doctor because this isn’t normal. Something is wrong.”
“Reilly.” I reach to take his hand, rubbing my thumb over the inside of his wrist. “I’m okay. It’s just stress. I promise. I’m worried sick about Anthony. It keeps me in knots most days. I want to see the surprise.”
“I don’t know. I don’t like this. I’m worried about ye. If ye want, we can go see Anthony.” He touches his thumb over my cheek, like he always does. I love it. I lean into his touch, never wanting him to pull away.
My stomach rolls again, and ironically, I have to push him away, sending him flying onto his ass as I throw up again. I groan when I start to dry heave. I hate that. The stomach acid that comes with it is the worst.
“Okay, that’s it. I’m taking ye to the doctor. Don’t think I haven’t noticed ye have been losing weight. I see it. I can feel it when I’m grabbing onto your hips and, well, ye know…” He gets into the car all flustered and turns us around, heading back toward his apartment.
“I’m fine. I already feel better without the blindfold. Can we just stop and get a ginger ale and go see the surprise?” I bat my eyelashes at him when he glances my way. “Please.” I pout my bottom lip.
He sighs, but it’s the defeated kind of sigh−not the tired kind. I know I’ve won him over. “Fine, but I swear, Gwenie, one more time and I’m taking ye to the doctor.”
“We’ll see.”
He grumbles something as he does a U-turn. It’s then I notice where we are going. He stops and gets me a few bottles of ginger ale at a local gas station, and when we pull into the driveway of Gredence Place a few minutes later, I gasp.
“What? What is it? Ye got to puke again?” he asks in a panic, bolting out the door. He comes around to my side of the car, yanking me out, bending me over, and pulling my hair back. He even starts rubbing his hand up and down my back. “Just let it all out,” he croons.
I muffle my laugh with my hand. He is so cute. “Reilly, I’m fine. I gasped because of what the front entrance looks like, not because I had to puke.”
“Oh.”
I straighten up and go to give him a kiss on the cheek, but then I think better of it. “Better not.”
“I don’t care. Ye better give me that kiss.” He turns his head, giving me his cheek as he waits. I roll my eyes and kiss his cheek. “Aye, that’s better.”
We start walking, but I spin on my heel and grab the ginger ale out of the car. I take a swig, sighing when the bubbles hit my stomach.
“Better?”
“Much.”
“Let’s go.” He holds out his hand and I take it as we stride through the gate.
Everything is different. The vines are gone, and the gate looks brand new. The driveway had been cracked and broken before. Now, it’s red cobblestone. When we pass by the main gate, a huge water fountain greets us.
“Wow,” I say in awe as I take in all the changes. Trees and flowers have been planted. Large weeping willows and oaks are all around, and the weeping willows hide the front of the house, almost like we have to walk through a forest just to get to the door. I love it. The outside of the house has been steam-cleaned and the stone looks brand new.
“The outside had a lot of work done, but the inside is a damn mess. I wanted to show ye the back, though. Close yer eyes.”
“Do I have to?” Even the thought of it has my stomach rolling.
“Oh, good call.” He drags me through the house, which is bare and filled with ladders, tools, drywall, and other equipment as a crew of men sets to work remodeling the place.
“Fred. How ye doing?” Reilly greets a man with grey hair at the temples and paint on his arms.
“Good. Is this your lady?”
“Aye, it is.”
It feels surreal to hear him say that. On the surface, we’re together, but he and I both know that once my brother wakes up, this is going to be over. We are living a dream.
“It’s good to meet you. I’m Fred, foreman on the construction crew.”
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