Mick'sology (The Flynn Family Book 2)

by Kayt Miller

  Me: Lie to me, baby.

  Veronica: Okay then… I’m wearing pajama shorts and a tank top.

  Me: Jesus. If you’re lying, does that mean you’re naked?

  Veronica: Believe me when I say… you’ll never know, Mick Flynn, hot bartender extraordinaire. Goodnight, Mick.

  Me: Night, beautiful.

  Okay, I could seriously be a friend to this girl. I never thought I could have a woman who was just a friend. She’s funny, clever, and a smart ass. Just like my brothers and sisters. She would fit right in at the Flynn house. I should take her over for one of the weekly family dinners at mom and dads. That would certainly stir things up. Maybe I’ll do that.

  Chapter 6: Roni

  As I lay down in bed in my pajama shorts and a tank top, (Yeah, like I’d tell him a lie.) I think about my night. There were some surprising occurrences. First of all, the fact that Hotty McBartender remembered me would have been enough to sustain me for weeks, maybe months. But, on top of that, Chris acted like he was interested in me. Holy smokes! That was the best night of my life (as it relates to men anyway).

  As we were leaving, Chris put his hand on my elbow again. He walked me to the taxi stand and waved one over. Sure, he could have ridden with me since we both live in Lincoln Square, but he decided to catch a ride with Trisha in her cab. I won’t read too much into that, but at least it was something.

  It must be true what Mick was saying; men are territorial. Makes sense if you think about it. They’re full of testosterone and with that comes the need to hunt and gather. Forgive me; I’m gleaning that information from Anthropology 101, oh, and Cosmo. With that knowledge in my arsenal, all I need to do is figure out a way to make Chris jealous. That’s it. That’s all I need to do. Ha! Good luck with that, Roni.

  I sigh and fall asleep, dreaming of hunky bartenders and guys named Chris. If I could construct a perfect man, it would be half Mick and half Chris. Two-thirds Mick, one-third Chris? Hmm, maybe it would be three-fourths Mick, one-fourth, Chris. Yeah, that’d be good.

  ***

  I wake up bright and early Saturday morning. I’m naturally a morning person, but today I’m especially energetic. It makes me want to go out for a run. **snort** Just kidding. I could call a friend and do some yoga. I could take a walk in the park or, ooh, I know… I could swim! I have a membership to a club over in North Park that I never use.

  It’s a shame. I have always loved to swim. I love that feeling of weightlessness you get in the water. Plus, it’s great exercise. I’m always sore all over the next day. That tells me I’m working muscles that I haven’t been using. I really should start swimming on a regular basis. I’ll see what I can do. After I drink my coffee and eat a piece of wheat toast with grape jelly. I grab my gym bag and fill it with my swimsuit, swim goggles, gym pass, wallet, and keys.

  I take a bus over to North Park and hop off a block from the gym. It’s a crisp October day but not so cold I need anything more than a sweatshirt. The weather has been amazing. I love fall. I think it’s my favorite season with the changing leaves and a shift to clothing with more coverage. It always reminds me of my college years. Those were the days! My friends were awesome even though I’ve lost track of most of them now. There was always something to do back then. Every night was filled with possibilities. Now, I go from home to work and home again. Boring.

  When I walk into North Park Nutrition and Fitness Center, I see the perky woman who signed me up. When they saw me walk in, they were on me like flies on stink. They wanted me to sign up with their nutritionist on staff. They were sure I needed help in that area. But, I don’t have terrible eating habits, I swear. What I do have are portion control issues. I mean, who can stick to one slice of Chicago-style deep-dish pizza? Yeah, no one! It’s my metabolism’s fault and heredity. My dad’s side of our family is all built like me. Thanks, dad.

  I make my way into the women’s locker room and head into a toilet stall. I hate changing in front of people but especially gym rats. Whenever I’m forced to change in the open, I get some different looks. There’s the disapproving sneer, the pity-filled smile, and my favorite, the person who pretends I’m not there. So, to the stall, I go.

  I strip out of my clothes being careful not to let anything touch the ground. Gym floors are nasty. I pull out my Speedo swimsuit and pray it still fits. Speedo brand suits are supposed to be tight on your body so you can swim faster. Speed is not my issue. I slide the black suit up my legs and then have to shimmy and wiggle until I have it up around my waist.

  The tough part is getting this to go over my chest. I slide my arms into one hole at a time and then stretch it out as far as I can up and over the ladies. It’s tight. My boobs are so smashed together they’re pressing out the top. The racer back is twisted, but I get that straightened out in no time. I wrap my towel around me, put my things in a locker, and walk into the pool area.

  I’m shocked. There’s no one in the pool. Maybe I have the time wrong for lap swimming. Usually, the place is so busy we have to pair up in each lane. That’s not the case today. No, today I have complete privacy. I drop the towel without a second thought and throw it on a nearby chair. I place the goggles over my eyes and put in my earplugs to help avoid water in the ears.

  Gingerly, I step into the pool. It has a ramp that leads down to the water for those people who need a handicap accessible pool. When my feet hit the water, I shiver. Damn, it’s cold. I know I need a little time to acclimate, but it’s not easy. I walk down at a faster pace wanting to get it over with. As soon as I’m hip deep, I dive down into the water.

  I move over into the furthest lane so I’m near the wall. It’s more obscured than the other lanes. Even though no one is here, I still like having one side of me hidden away. I start right away. I vary my strokes from free style to backstroke, to butterfly, and I even do the breaststroke. On my way back to the starting point of my lane, I’m doing the backstroke. I’m in the zone, eyes closed, relaxed, and just enjoying the feel of the water. I open my eyes and see a man standing on the side of the pool next to my lane. The man is staring down at me.

  Startled, I stop swimming and reach for the wall. The man is talking to me, but I can’t hear him. I stand up since the water is only three feet deep there and pull out my earplugs. Oh, shit. “Mick? What are you doing here?” He’s wearing board shorts and no shirt. Holy smokes. Mick Flynn without a shirt is awe-inspiring. He’s holding a towel in his left hand and goggles in his right. He’s not going to swim, is he?

  “I thought that was you. This is my gym. What are you doing here?” he asks.

  “This is my gym too.” Okay, so I’ve probably been here three times since joining last year, but it’s still my gym.

  He shifts his feet and scratches his beard. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

  “Well, I’ve never seen you here before either. We have different schedules. It’s not that big a mystery.” Seriously. What’s he insinuating? Jeez, I’m not a stalker and I so workout. All the time. Yeah. That’s it.

  “True, but I’m here a lot. Odds are I’d have seen you here before. You like to swim?”

  “Nope. Hate it. You?”

  He chuckles. “Yeah, hate it.”

  “Okay. Good talk. I need to get back to my laps. See ya, Michael Flynn.”

  He laughs. “Yeah, okay.”

  I slide my goggles back on and put in my earplugs. I make it down to the other end when I see arms and a long body glide through the water in the lane next to mine. He’s almost beaten me to the end, and he had to walk around the pool, down the ramp, get to this far lane, and swim down to the end. He’s fast.

  I’ve paused at the end hoping he keeps going but I’m not that lucky.

  “Wanna race?” he asks.

  I point to my earplugs in the hopes he’ll realize that I can’t hear him and keep moving. Instead, he dunks under the rope that separates our lanes and moves toward me. I’m standing on an underwater ledge while holding onto the side. I see him comin
g my way, and I back up until I’m in the corner. He reaches out and plucks out one of my earplugs.

  “I said; do you want to race?”

  I giggle. I’m not a natural giggler, but that made me giggle. “No. I don’t think so. In the time it took me to swim from there to here,” I say pointing to the other end of the pool. “You walked around the pool, down the ramp, swam across the pool to the lane and then lapped to this end. So, no, I’m not going to race you.”

  “So, you were watching me?” he asks with a cocky smirk.

  “No! I just assumed that’s how you got into the pool.”

  He moves closer to me, so I’m cornered. He’s treading water, so he places a hand beside the left side of my head, resting it on the edge of the pool. He does the same thing with his right hand so now I’m between his arms.

  “So, this is seriously your gym?” he asks again.

  I sigh, exasperated, “Yes! Okay. I’ll admit that I never come, but I’ve been a member for a long time. Happy?”

  “Yeah, I’m happy. Now that I know you’re a member, we can meet up and work out together.”

  I literally snort like a pig. Attractive. “Yeah, no. That’s not going to happen. I’m not in your fitness realm,” I point to his abs. “It would be humiliating.”

  “Nah, it’d be fun. I’d love to have a workout buddy.”

  “Well, like I said… our schedules are vastly different and…”

  “Do I intimidate you, Veronica?” he says as he moves a little closer to me.

  “No, you don't intimidate me, Mick.” Yeah. He’s making me a tad nervous. Him and his abs.

  He’s fucking with me, and I don’t appreciate it. Not only that, he’s looking down at my swimsuit. Yeah, my boobs are pushed together. It looks like I’m smuggling two basketballs in there. I guess I can’t blame him for looking. They’re hard to miss.

  “Damn, woman, you look great in a swim suit. Who’da thought?”

  Why? Why did he have to go there? I was having a perfectly good morning. Now, I’ll have to work all day to stop hating myself. But, I can do it! I do it daily, but for some reason, it hurts worse coming from him.

  I dunk under his arms into the water and swim away from him. He’s still holding my earplug, but I can get more at CVS. I swim away from him as fast as I can across the pool at an angle. The faster I get to the ramp, the better.

  As I swim, I hear him. “Veronica? What’s wrong? What’d I say?”

  Thankfully my face is wet so he can’t tell I’ve got tears running down my cheeks. I walk as fast as I can up the ramp knowing he can now see my entire body. Great! I’m squeezed into the Speedo like it’s a sausage casing.

  I hear his voice closer now, “Roni. Wait up. What did I say?”

  I ignore him grabbing my towel. I speed walk into the women’s locker room, grab my clothes and change right there in front of three other women. And there it is… I’ve gotten all three looks: pity, disgust, and the pretend the fat lady isn’t here look.

  I sniffle and dress quickly. I throw everything in my bag, and I’m out of the locker room in less than five minutes. I hope I was fast enough to beat him out. Yeah, like he would chase me. I round the corner toward the gym entrance and stop. Crap! He chased me.

  He holds his hands up to stop me from passing him, “Look. I realize what I said, and I didn’t mean it like it sounded. All I meant was…”

  “It’s okay. I’m fine. I just realized I was late for an appointment.”

  “Roni. I know that’s not true.”

  “You know it’s not true? How the frack would you know anything about me? You don't. We’ve met twice. You know nothing.”

  He puts his hands on my upper arms gently. He’s ignoring my little rant. “Roni, what I meant was, um, I was just surprised you were so, uh, well endowed. On top. That’s all. I mean, I noticed you had a nice rack, babe, but seriously. That’s award winning tittage right there,” he adds pointing to my chest, “They real?”

  I snort out a loud laugh, “Jesus, you’re a tool, Mick. Tittage? And yes, of course, they’re real!”

  He laughs, “I made that word up.”

  “No shit, Sherlock.” I sigh, “Please promise me that you’ll never say tittage again.”

  “I’ll make no such promise. I’m a breast man, and I’ve got to be able to express myself freely.”

  I laugh loudly at him, and people have started to stare. Mick has his head thrown back laughing too.

  We've both gotten a grip when Mick asks, “So, does that mean you forgive me?”

  I take a deep breath, “Yeah, I forgive you.”

  “Great. I’m glad. But, I need to go. Got shit to do before work. I’ll text you,” he says walking backward toward the men’s locker room.

  I wave and walk out the front door. So much for my workout. I think I only got in about ten laps. But it’s better than nothing, I suppose.

  Chapter 7: Mick

  Wow, I almost fucked up big time with Veronica. I was seriously in awe of her chest. Jesus, I don’t think I’ve ever been that close to such an impressive set of… well, you get the idea.

  Another surprising tidbit is the fact she likes to swim. I love the pool. It’s my go-to workout when I’m short on time, and today I was very short on time. I actually got no workout thanks to my stupid comment. I’m not sure how much I would have gotten done anyway. As soon as I got close to her and saw what she was packin’ in her Speedo, my dick got hard and swimming with a hard-on isn’t fun. Trust me.

  After jumping in the gym shower, I dress in my usual work uniform: jeans and t-shirt. I throw my bag in the locker I rent and head out. I want to run over and see Katie, my brother Hank’s kid, before my shift. She’s the coolest kid, or should I say, baby, I’ve ever met.

  I stomp up Hank and his wife Sophie’s new back steps. They are fixing up Sophie’s old Victorian that her grandmother left her. It’s a cool house, but they still have a lot of work to do. It’s certainly roomy enough for them to raise a family here.

  I never thought I’d see the day my big brother, Hank, settled down. Even more surprising is who he ended up with. Don’t get me wrong, Sophie is cool as shit. She’s just, well, not the body type my brother usually dated. I snort. Dated? I mean fucked. He didn’t date. Not until Sophie. For her, he worked his ass off to lock her down. She was a tough nut to crack, so to speak.

  Giving the new back door a tap, I wait. I learned my lesson a few weeks ago when I walked into their kitchen without knocking and caught Hank and Sophie fucking like bunnies on the kitchen table. Seeing my brother bare-assed doing the nasty––well, it’s an image I’ll never be able to un-see. So, now I knock.

  After knocking a second time, the door opens to my oldest brother holding my biggest fan, Katie Flynn. “Katie Did! It’s me, unkee Mick!” I say in a voice that could rival Mickie Mouse’s. Her face lights up. What is it about having a girl’s face light up when she sees you that makes your heart grow two sizes? Katie just did that for me.

  “Gimme,” I say to my bro with my arms extended. Hank hands over his beautiful daughter. She’s such a beautiful baby with blonde hair, brown eyes, and an adorable little turned-up nose. She looks like both of her parents, that’s for sure. “Where’s Soph?”

  “Upstairs. She wasn’t feeling very well today. She’s takin’ a nap,” grumbles Hank.

  “Uh oh, you knock her up again?” I ask with a smirk.

  “I hope so,” Henry beams. “I want a house-full.”

  “I know you do, man.” I know he does. That’s another change in my big brother. He was dead-set against a family. But, I guess the right woman changes that.

  I smile at Hank and walk into their kitchen. “Does Kate need to be fed? Changed? Anything?”

  “Nah, she’s all good. But, if you’ll hang here, I’ll run up and check on my wife.”

  “Sure thing. Katie and I will have a little chat while you’re gone.” Yeah, I tell Katie stuff. I tell her all my little secrets. I do it with as ma
ny weird voices as I can conjure up to make it more fun for her. I head into their living room and plop my ass in their big rocking chair.

  There’s a colorful baby toy on the side table that makes various sounds like crinkled paper, bells, and it even squeaks. I hold it up in front of her and manipulate it, so it makes all of the noises, one at a time. She gives me a gummy-mouthed little smile.

  “So, beautiful Katie, how has your day been so far? Good?” We rock back and forth, and I listen as she makes cute baby noises. There are gurgles, raspberries, and coos. All of them are equally adorable. “Let me see. I haven’t talked to you in a while. So, I guess my big news is I made a new friend. Her name is Veronica,” I say in a squeaky voice. Katie’s eyes usually get huge when I do that voice, and she doesn’t disappoint today.

  “That’s right. But, she’s got a very funny last name. It’s McGonigall.” I say tickling her little tummy. “You don’t know about Harry Potter yet, but there’s a character in those books named Minerva McGonigall. Veronica doesn’t look anything like a Minerva. No, she’s almost as pretty as you are–– almost.” I lean down and kiss her little cheek. “No one is as pretty as you are, Katie Did.”

  I pick up the toy and squeeze it and manipulate it, so it squeaks. Katie's eyes get huge. I can’t wait until this little girl can talk. It’s going to be a blast. “Anyway, Veronica’s very pretty. She’s got long blonde hair, a little darker than yours. She’s got freckles on her nose like your mama, oh, and green eyes. Her mouth is pretty, and she’s got a wicked good sense of humor. I bet you’d like her, little one.”