The Irish Lottery: A Friends-to-Lovers Contemporary Romance (Irish Kiss)

by Sienna Blake

  Except…when it came to her.

  I turned towards the rack of freshly dishwashed pint glasses I was putting away and glared at them instead of her. “Yeah, well. I think Danny is in love with someone else, so…you’re out of luck.”

  “The pretty girl who sang the ‘Sorry’ duet.”

  My gaze snapped to her.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  I blinked. How did she…?

  She nodded knowingly as if I’d answered.

  A realization struck me. “Did you overhear us?” Oh, shit. Did she hear Danny and me talking about the lottery? About my feelings for her?

  Aubrey raised an eyebrow. “I could see the way he was looking at her.”

  Right. Right. Aubrey was a perceptive girl. She always had been. Except when it came to herself. She couldn’t see that Sean wasn’t right for her. That he didn’t really love her. She couldn’t see what was right in front of her.

  Me.

  Lottery Entry #279

  I’ve never told anyone this. I can’t imagine what people would say if they knew. I mean, I’m a freak, right? Anyway, it’s not like you can judge. Thank God for the NDA. No one would ever know except for us…

  I want the four of you to “break in” to my apartment and take me by force. To have you hold me down, tear clothes off me, press my face into the mattress and one by one have your wicked, wicked way with me, over and over until I’m a liquid mess.

  Noah

  “Thank you for taking me home.” Aubrey sounded a bit off from the passenger seat of my truck, but I couldn’t quite place it. “You sure you don’t want to come hang out?”

  I did. Of course I did. I hated parting from Aubrey. But I was bad company lately, tonight especially because my mind was on this lottery. I was undeniably preoccupied. I wanted to race home so I could check to see if Danny’s tweet had helped any. The longer I stayed in Aubrey’s company, the more my secrets churned in my belly.

  I gave Aubrey a tired smile. “Sorry, Rey. I’m so exhausted I’d be shite company. I’d be no craic at all. And I have a load of admin crap I have to get done before tomorrow’s shift.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “I’ll wait for you to get up and turn on your light,” I said, giving her a smile I didn’t really feel before letting it die off my lips. There was no need for pretense. She’d know better and wouldn’t appreciate it.

  Aubrey climbed out, but instead of closing the door, she stuck her head back in. Her shiny dark hair fell forward around her face and the scent of her tropical coconut shampoo wafted over me.

  “I’ve missed you, you know?” she said.

  I stared at her, surprised. “You took the thought right out of my head,” I said. It might not be true right this second, but I’ve thought it since I’d started this little project. I’d been distant. Preoccupied. Sometimes, downright avoiding her. For good reason. “Let’s get together soon and catch up, okay?”

  She nodded at my suggestion, suppressing a yawn. “That sounds good. Drive safely and text me when you get in, okay?”

  She sounded so sleepy I wanted nothing more than to carry her into her apartment, place her onto her bed—

  That was not an option.

  “Good night, Rey,” I said instead.

  She nodded, ending her yawn and saying, “You too.” With a gentle push, she closed the door behind her and almost tripped over the curb walking up to her building. She shot me an embarrassed grin and laughed at herself.

  I shook my head slowly, lifting my hand to cover my eyes and chuckled. This woman, man. She was so damn cute. No matter how bad I was feeling, she always managed to cheer me up, even by accident.

  I lowered my hand so I could watch to make sure she got into her building safely. I felt the smile die on my lips. What the fuck was I going to do when she married that eejit she was engaged to?

  I doubted he’d be okay with her friendship with me. It had actually surprised me that he hadn’t already told her to quit seeing me. Any man should know to worry about a guy like me spending time with his girl.

  Shoving the thoughts out of my head, I watched the curtain over her window, waiting patiently for that silent bit of communication that told me she’d made it in safe and sound.

  The light flashed on and off in the space of a moment—her sign that she was inside safely—and I sighed with relief. I’d told her never to walk up with her phone out, but to instead focus on her surroundings with every bit of her senses, just in case.

  It had occurred to me to walk her up every time. Every time, I forced myself to stay in the car because I knew that there was a damn good chance I’d kiss her at her door.

  Aubrey was my friend. Not my girlfriend. My best friend. Who happened to be engaged to another man. She deserved not to be kissed by her best friend.

  Biting back a curse at my stupidity, I pulled away from the curb and drove home.

  With Aubrey still on my mind, I sat before my computer and opened the tab that told me how many entries there were. When the page loaded, I almost fell off my chair. There were hundreds of entries! Hundreds. I had to refresh the page because I couldn’t believe my damn eyes. Was it a glitch? Had something messed up? Was I in the right place?

  It wasn’t a glitch. It was real. In a short time, we’d received hundreds of new entries. I guess Danny sharing the damn thing was all it took to go viral.

  I pulled out my phone and sent a message to the O’Sullivan brothers’ group chat.

  Me: Have you guys looked at the latest lottery stats?!?!

  Michael: No. Some of us are trying to sleep.

  Me: Then turn off your phone, doofus.

  Michael: Work might call.

  Me: WTF? Work calls u at 2am?

  Michael: …

  Darren: Holy fuck balls!

  Me: Right?!

  Darren: This just might work.

  Darren’s hopeful message echoed my own thoughts. This was it, the golden ticket that would help us get Ma’s surgery and keep her on this great Earth for a long time coming.

  Eoin: Holy shit. Some of these fantasies are…

  Darren: Disgusting?

  Eoin: HOT!

  Darren: *eye roll* Trust u to think so.

  Eoin: Hey so, these poor ladies who don’t win…can I get a few of their numbers?

  Me/Darren/Michael: NO!

  Aubrey

  “Mm, mm, mm!” Candace said, holding her phone to her chest and rolling her eyes heavenward. The bar was mostly quiet but the few patrons were either watching her intently or ignoring us both. I knew the guys generally had a serious hard-on for her, but I’m pretty sure she was oblivious. Or maybe she just didn’t care. She wasn’t the type of woman to base her self-value on what other people thought, and I loved that about her.

  “Lemme guess,” I said, crossing my arms and giving her a once-over like I could read her mind in her stance. Her eyes were dancing with mischief. “You found the future Mr. Right?”

  “I wish,” she said. With a few steps towards me, she bent over the bar. A few appreciative male groans tempered the air, but she didn’t seem to notice. I focused on her phone as she turned it around. It wasn’t a dating app like I expected, but a website I’d never seen showing an image of four shirtless, muscled guys in green masks. Was it a wrestling team or something?

  “Okay. So who are they?” I asked.

  Candace rolled her eyes. “Duh. No one knows. That’s what makes it so exciting!”

  We paused as I stopped to smile and wave at a couple of regulars who came here to hide in a corner and watch one of the many TVs around the bar. They nodded at me.

  Candace, both elbows still on the bar, gave them a cheeky grin. “Don’t mind us,” she said cheerfully.

  A few of the guys who had been watching us seemed to freeze like they thought they were being called out. When they realized they were off the hook, they quickly shifted their attention away from us.

  “I still don’t get it,” I said to Candace.<
br />
  “You mean you haven’t heard about the Irish Lottery?” Candace asked, both of her sharp, perfect eyebrows rising in surprise as she spoke.

  “Like EuroMillions?” I asked.

  Candace gave a honeyed laugh. “So not like the EuroMillions.” She leaned in. “There are these…” she shook her phone to indicate the four men on the website, “…four hot Irishmen who are selling lottery tickets. The catch is that the prize isn’t money; it’s them.”

  “Like…” I lowered my voice and scanned around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. “Sexually?”

  She nodded, her eyes shining brightly. “I mean, maybe you could get them to clean your place shirtless or something. Scrub some clothes on those washboard abs. Who knows? But I tell you, amiga—”

  “What are you guys up to?” Noah’s voice cut into our talk. My cheeks instantly felt sunburned as I glanced up at him.

  “Have you heard about the Irish Lottery?” Candace asked him.

  I saw his throat bob as he swallowed. “Yeah, Candace and I play every week, hoping we’ll win millions. No luck so far.” He gave me a quick smile that did something to my stomach.

  Candace laughed. “Boring! Not that lottery…this one,” she said, showing him her phone. While she explained it to him, I studied the image on the sly.

  The other three were good looking too, with green eyes and strong builds, but the one I was really drawn to was the one who looked like the ringleader, the one in the middle with blue eyes. His arms were spread in a gesture that could be threatening…or comforting. His powerful body would make any good girl squirm and the bad girls drop their panties.

  “I wonder why they’re doing it,” I said. All the usual culprits came to mind: money, fame, sex.

  “Who knows?” Noah said, moving towards a patron and popping the top off a beer before moving in our direction again. “Are you going to enter?”

  “I already did,” Candace said with a wide smile. “To enter, you have to tell them your fantasy. In detail.”

  Tell someone my fantasy? I flushed as I considered what it was that I wanted sexually. Sean and my sex life were…okay, I guess. Sometimes I felt like we were just going through the motions. I’d tried to suggest some more…experimentation in the bedroom with Sean earlier on in our relationship—even something as basic as for him to go down on me—but he got so embarrassed and angry that I stopped trying. There was still a lot of Catholic guilt and sexual repression sown into the culture of this country thanks to their history.

  Noah was studying me. That boy could damn near read my thoughts at times. I covered my curiosity with a quick smile at Candace. “Do we even want to know what your entry was?”

  Candace straightened, a grin on her face. “It was—”

  “No,” I yelped, covering my ears. “I don’t want to know, la la la.” That girl really had no boundaries.

  She laughed, pulling my hands off my ears. “Relax, amiga. Your sensitive little soul is safe.”

  “Maybe I want to know,” said Noah teasingly.

  I shot him a glare before I could stop myself.

  Candace looked between Noah and me before waggling her eyebrows. “Let’s just say…four hot Irishmen could definitely fulfil my fantasy. But it’d be better if there were five.”

  Five? Where would she put five—?

  An image came to mind. Like a jigsaw puzzle made of flesh. Oh. Wow. Heat spread across my face up to the tips of my ears. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Noah’s amused grin.

  “Oh, I’m up,” Candace said as if she’d not just dropped that bomb in our laps. Tray in hand, she hurried off to a freshly vacated table. Male eyes around the bar followed her as she sashayed off to clear away the mess with that ever-present cheer and smile.

  I was left alone with Noah and the sticky tension still in the air.

  “Would you ever do something like that?” Noah asked.

  The jigsaw puzzle image came to mind. I shook my head to clear it. “Let five men use me as a pincushion? Probably not.”

  “I mean, would you enter this lottery?” He leaned a hip against the bar, crossed his arms loosely, and studied me intently. “Would you tell a stranger your deepest, darkest sexual fantasy? Would you let him fulfil that fantasy?” His voice took on a husky, rough edge that confused me.

  “Absolutely not!” I said with a snort of disdain. “I’m engaged.” Still, I couldn’t help the curiosity that nipped at me.

  Noah straightened up with a nod of understanding. “If you weren’t?”

  If I was single? An odd fluttering of excitement tickled me just under my ribs. I tried to ignore it. Failed. I shrugged, trying to play it cool, even as my insides burned. “Guess we’ll never know.”

  Noah looked like he was going to keep pushing. Thankfully, Candace returned, preventing him from doing so, and he got caught up in serving a group that walked in. I took the dishes Candace dropped off and began to load them into the dishwasher while she hurried off once more.

  For the rest of the shift I could swear I felt Noah’s eyes on me, his question burning in my mind.

  Would I do something like that? My thoughts wandered to that blue-eyed guy with his threatening pose, my insides warming every time I did.

  I couldn’t lie to myself. If I wasn’t engaged, I would. Without a doubt. In a heartbeat. I’d be entering right this second.

  But I wasn’t a cheater. I wouldn’t do that to Sean or anyone. I’ve never stepped out in a relationship and I never would.

  Even if it meant my desires would never be fulfilled.

  Aubrey

  Me: How are u, babe?

  My text to Sean had sat there, unread, almost all day. I sat in my apartment, silently curled up in a protective ball as a knot formed in my belly. It wasn’t the first time my texts had gone unanswered. It’d been happening more often lately. He’d cancelled on me the last few times we were supposed to have us time. Something was up with Sean.

  Maybe it was just his work. I knew they’d been giving him more responsibility lately.

  But my instincts told me that it wasn’t just that. Even when we had spent time together, he’d been distracted and not as affectionate as usual.

  Instinctively, I scrolled to my contacts searching for Noah’s name. I wanted to talk it out with him, to get his valuable male insight. I paused before I hit the call button. Noah had enough on his plate right now with his ma’s failing health and his own life. He didn’t need to deal with my crap. It was probably nothing, right?

  I should just go over to Sean’s place and ask him what was wrong. This was definitely not a conversation for over the phone. I jumped to my feet and pulled on my shoes. Grabbing my keys, I headed out the door and locked it behind me. Sean only lived a sixteen-minute walk from my place.

  On my way to Sean’s, I passed the huge St Patrick’s Cathedral on my left; the gorgeous 800-year-old building, with its grand Gothic architecture and landscaped gardens, almost never failed to put a smile on my face. Except for now. I found myself second-guessing myself. Was I being crazy? I mean, it was just an unanswered text. He’s probably busy.

  But unanswered all day? It’s not like I was a debt collector harassing him. I was his girlfriend. No, his fiancée. I was well within my rights to go over there. I had a key, for God’s sake. That was an open invitation to go over when I liked. Something could have happened to him. If I was worried, I could check in with him as a concerned fiancée would do.

  I tried to ignore the feeling of dread creeping over me.

  “Hello?” I asked, pushing open Sean’s front door to stand in the small entryway. The door had been closed and locked, both of which were good signs.

  I didn’t hear a response, but I could hear movement.

  Sean was here.

  Sean lived alone in a one-bedroom flat in a restored Victorian red-brick house in Portobello. I know. I was mad to still live in dodgy inner-city Christchurch instead of living in this quiet neighborhood near the willow-lin
ed canal. Portobello used to be Dublin’s Jerusalem quarter back at the turn of the century but had turned into an upmarket Dublin suburb, well-kept gardens lining the red-brick terraces of houses, hip corner cafes and yoga spots nestled among the residences.

  I slipped my shoes off so I didn’t dirty the polished walnut floors before walking through the apartment in my socks. I hadn’t moved in with Sean because his place had always felt strange to me; I guess I was delaying the inevitable.

  This apartment felt too heavy, too traditional, too old money. I was always terrified of staining his latte-colored leather couch or marking his mahogany coffee table with my endless cups of Lyon’s tea. He and I didn’t have the same sense of style.

  Every time I suggested more cozy additions to this place—a rug here, a large comfy armchair, quirky cushions with dogs faces on them—it’d turn into a snippy row. Even though it was going to be our place.

  I’d let it go. At the end of the day, the decor wasn’t what was important to me. I didn’t care how our future home was decorated so long as it was warm, welcoming and full of love…like Noah’s home.

  “Sean?” I called as I approached the room he used as a study. The door was open a half inch and I gently pushed it open. Relief flooded me as I saw him, headphones in, music faintly reaching my ears, as he studied the pile of papers before him.

  Of course, he was working. The man worked like mad all the time. I admired his dedication. A dedication I didn’t feel I had. Yet. I guess I was waiting to find something worth being that dedicated to. With a soft smile, I walked up to him.