The Player and the Pixie (Rugby #2)

by Penny Reid

  A few moments of silence elapsed before Ronan spoke again. “The thing you have to understand here, Lucy, is that Annie and Sean are two very different people. Annie is lovely and fundamentally kind. Whereas Sean is a selfish, spoiled brat. Sure, he might toy with the idea of caring for your safety, but when it comes down to it, the thrill of a new relationship is going to fade and he’s going to realize how much hard work it is. I don’t want to see you invest in a man who’s going to flake out on you in the long run.”

  “You know he never actually slept with Brona, right?”

  Ronan exhaled heavily. “He said something to that effect downstairs, yes.”

  “So you should also know he’s not the spoiled brat he likes to lead everybody to believe. It’s like a defense mechanism. If he pushes people away from the start, he doesn’t have to worry about being rejected later.”

  Ronan was already shaking his head before I’d finished. “Luce, even if that’s true, don’t you think it’s a little fucked up? Yeah, he might have never slept with Brona, but he still fabricated a relationship with her. That isn’t the behavior of a well-adjusted individual.”

  “Listen, I’m not defending Sean or what he did to you, I’m just trying to explain a person who is a lot more complicated than one action. He is more than a spoiled brat.” I stood from the couch, no longer in danger of crying, feeling the rightness of my words as I said them. “If someone looked at me tonight, the mess I made downstairs, stealing fecking golf balls of all things, they might call me a spoiled brat and leave it at that. Yes, I’m messed up. What I did was messed up. But I’d like to think I’m not defined by—”

  “No, Luce. That argument doesn’t work because you have a compulsive problem. You don’t steal because you want revenge on the K Club Golf Shop. Sean Cassidy does shite to be a mean arsehole. That’s the difference.”

  “But don’t you see? Pushing people away is Sean’s compulsion. He’s been rejected his whole life. He did what he did to you because he’s jealous. He thinks you have everything handed to you on a silver platter and everybody loves you without question. It’s basic juvenile jealousy, Ronan. And I bet if you’d been friendly to him from the first time you met, things would’ve been a whole lot different.”

  Ronan lifted his voice with frustration. “I wasn’t unfriendly to him. I barely even spoke to him.”

  I gesticulated with my hands. “Exactly. Don’t you see? You ignored him, so he built this ridiculous, nonsensical jealousy thing. For God’s sake, you big burly men are all little boys when it comes down to it.”

  “I’m not a little boy.”

  “In regards to Sean you are. You both need to let this absurd feud go already. Sure, I’ll be the first person to admit he’s not perfect, that he has issues he needs to work on, but so do I, and so do you, Ronan.”

  “You’re comparing me to Sean Cassidy?”

  I ignored this outraged question and pressed on. “We all have issues. Human beings are flawed, and all we can hope for is to work toward making ourselves better. Not perfect, just better.”

  Ronan began pacing again, his hands on his hips, his jaw set. “Bloody hell,” he growled, then a full minute later, “I hate how you make so much sense sometimes.”

  I gave him a small smile, realizing the admission cost him something.

  “You’d make sense too if you just took a second and thought things through before barging in full steam ahead and throwing all your toys out of the pram.”

  My brother narrowed his gaze at my phrasing but didn’t deny it. “I still think it’s going to end badly. Can’t you just stop this thing before it goes any further? You think you love him but how can you? It’s not possible.”

  I bristled as I shot back defensively. “I never said I loved him.”

  “You forget I’ve spent a lifetime learning your ticks, Lucy. I saw you with him downstairs. I saw it written all over your face, but it’s just lust. I’m sure it’s the same on his end. He thinks he’s in love with you, too.”

  It took me a good twenty seconds to recover from Ronan’s statement before I managed, “He told you that?” The question was a weak whisper, my heart clenching. I wasn’t sure why, but the idea of Sean confessing his love for me to my brother, the one person who might beat the living shit out of him for it, made me feel all warm and mushy inside.

  Ronan huffed. “Yes, he did.”

  I let that sink in for a moment, savoring the loveliness of it all before I circled back to the other thing he’d said. “Why do you think it’s so impossible for us to be in love?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? You haven’t even slept together yet. For all you know, he could be terrible in bed.”

  At this I burst out laughing, a full-on belly laugh, my hands going to my middle to hold my stomach. One, because Ronan didn’t know how apt his comment was, and two, because he thought we hadn’t slept together. I almost wanted to roll my eyes at how he still saw me as his chaste, quirky little sister.

  “What are you laughing at?”

  “Who gave you the idea we hadn’t slept together?”

  Ronan’s distinctive eyebrows drew closer and closer until they formed one dark line of disapproval. “Sean told me downstairs.”

  I found that hard to believe. “He actually said it, word for word? Lucy and I haven’t slept together?”

  Ronan frowned so hard I thought his face was going to break. “Well, maybe not word for word. He said you rejected him, I thought . . .” Now his expression turned to disbelief, then to anger, then to brotherly disappointment. I felt it cut through me like a knife.

  “I did reject him,” I said softly. “I rejected him quite a few times . . . until I didn’t anymore.”

  Now he stared at me like I was a stranger, and that hurt most of all. He raked his hands through his hair and swore. “Fuck.”

  But Annie was right.

  Her words from earlier came back to me. I needed to be living my own life. Ronan might not like my choices, but that was okay.

  “Ronan,” I continued, my voice still soft. “I never did any of it to hurt you. You of all people should know we can’t control how our feelings develop, how sometimes they latch on to the least likely and most inconvenient person. I love you. I would never intentionally disrespect you. I didn’t set out to be anything more than Sean’s friend. You’re my hero, and you always have been. I’ve looked up to you since I was little, thought the sun rose and set on your shoulders, and I still do. But at some point, and quite against my will, I fell for Sean Cassidy.”

  I shrugged, because I felt a little helpless. I had no control over whether or not Ronan ultimately forgave Sean. But then, Ronan had no control over the depth of my feelings for Sean, either.

  “If you couldn’t accept Sean and me, it’d break my heart. But I would understand. I will love you, no matter what you decide.”

  At that moment, I realized just how much bullshit that note I’d left Sean had been. I didn’t want to stop being with him. I’d read enough books about happiness and self-fulfillment to know that denying yourself the very thing that brings you joy will only create a hole inside you. And that hole will fester until it becomes black and toxic.

  The more I thought of Sean, the more a new, unexplored feeling began to suffuse my chest. I couldn’t believe how differently I felt for him now, as compared to how I’d felt about him when we first met. And if he hadn’t been there in that shop tonight, if he hadn’t been there to step in and sacrifice himself for me, I would’ve been arrested. I would’ve spent the night before my brother’s wedding in a jail cell.

  I would have deserved it.

  But Annie and Ronan didn’t deserve such a scene, nor me being an embarrassment on the eve of their wedding. For that I was truly sorry and I was determined to make it up to them, just not in a way that was unhealthy or had me sacrificing happiness for my brother’s peace of mind.

  It was also ironic. I’d thought my secret relationship with Sean would ruin Ronan’s wedding, whe
n in reality it had been the thing to save it. Sean tried his hardest to act like he was a vacuous, careless snob, but deep down he was so good. And I loved him.

  I loved him so much it terrified me.

  I loved that he’d been terrible in bed. I loved that he hadn’t wanted to be terrible in bed. I loved that I’d had to teach him how to make me come. I loved that he was vain and materialistic. I loved that he loved dogs. I loved that he stole things from random women’s bathroom cabinets, and that he was completely out of touch with reality. I loved how he told me my style was awful even though I knew he secretly adored it. I loved how much he enjoyed giving me pleasure even more than he enjoyed his own. And I loved that he wanted to protect me so much he’d risk being arrested if it meant I’d get to walk free.

  Ronan and I had been quiet for so long that a small knock came from the room where Annie and Broderick had shut themselves away. My friend poked his head out.

  “You two all right?” Rick asked, stepping into the lounge and glancing carefully between Ronan and me. Annie remained hidden in the bedroom.

  I looked at my brother. “I’m not sure.”

  Ronan heaved a heavy breath and laid his cards on the table. “Right, so here’s how we’re going to do this. I’ll not . . . get in the way of you seeing Sean.”

  I gaped at him. “Has hell frozen over?”

  He glowered. “Don’t be a smart-arse and just listen. I’m not saying I’m going to give you my blessing to run off to Vegas and get hitched, but we can see where things go between you two. Baby steps. But before I start playing nice with Sean, and you’re not going to like this part, Luce, I need you to start seeing a therapist.”

  Again, it took me at least ten full seconds to process his words, and when I did they left me completely confused. “But Mam said it was embarrassing and could hurt your career, me seeing a—”

  “I don’t care what Mam says. Let me deal with her. In fact, I’m going to make her go with you. You steal when you’re anxious, and our mother is a major source of anxiety in your life. And she is your mother, Lucy, the only one you’re ever going to have. So even though it might be easier to stick your head in the sand, you can’t just cut her out. You both need to deal with the issues between you if you’re ever going to get better.”

  “But I live in New York. How are we going to have therapy sessions if we’re living in two different countries?”

  “You can do it over Skype. Or I’ll even fly her over once a fortnight if need be. Either way, we’re doing this. I’ll try to get over my issues with Cassidy, but you have to work towards getting over your issues, too.”

  I stared at him as I chewed on my lip, flabbergasted he was considering mending his bridges with Sean, even if there was a catch. I’d been all but ready to never see Mam again after my outburst in the sauna, but I knew that wasn’t fair. Ronan was right. She was the only mother I would ever have, and we needed to sort our shit out. If she was prepared to accept me as I was, then I was prepared to accept her as she was . . . even if she made me want to tear my own hair out sometimes.

  “Okay, I’ll do it,” I told him as I shakily held out my hand.

  He took it and we shook before Ronan pulled me into a massive bear hug, knocking the wind right out of me. I felt him hold me tight as he said with regret, “I’m sorry if I haven’t been there for you lately. It won’t happen again. And I’m sorry if I’ve been a brute. I just want you to be happy and safe. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  I didn’t say anything, just accepted the hug and the warm feeling of brotherly comfort. We only broke apart when Broderick said, “Aw, aren’t you two just adorable?”

  I scowled playfully at my friend, at the same time feeling like a weight had been lifted. I hadn’t even realized it, but for a long time it had been hard to breathe. This heart-to-heart with Ronan had injected air back into my lungs.

  He was watching me then, smiling and shaking his head. “Sean bloody Cassidy. You couldn’t have chosen an unlikelier candidate if you’d come home and told me you were in love with Donald Trump.”

  I laughed loudly as Broderick shuddered.

  “I’m sorry,” said Ronan, laughing softly as he cast his eyes in the direction of the bedroom where Annie was hiding. With a deep exhale, he walked to the door, knocked lightly and called in a gentle voice, “Sleep well, Annie dearest, because tomorrow I’m going to marry you.”

  I could tell she was smiling when she responded in the tiniest voice, her face probably pressed to the door. “I love you, Ronan.”

  He placed his palm against the wood. “I love you, too.”

  And then, after bidding Broderick and me good night, he left.

  I swear my heart glittered inside my chest at their tenderly whispered words. My brother could be a bullheaded oaf at times, but other times I thought he just might be the most romantic man in the world.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  @LucyFitz Judge Judy’s hair is the same color as her face is the same color as her table is the same color as her chair #randomthoughts

  @BroderickAdams to @LucyFitz Hey, that rhymed :-)

  @RonanFitz to @LucyFitz Do I need to repeat myself re: the acid tabs?

  *Lucy*

  I tried to track down Sean, to clear the air, to apologize, to throw myself at him, but he’d disappeared. Or—and perhaps more likely—he didn’t want to speak to me.

  My phone was shattered, so I tried using Broderick’s to send him a text message. He didn’t respond.

  I stopped by his room and loitered outside for twenty or so minutes, finally slipping a note under his door.

  Sean,

  I’m so sorry, about everything. My phone is wrecked, so you can reach me by dialing Broderick. We need to talk. I’m sorry.

  -Lucy

  PS I’m so sorry.

  I think I finally lay down around 2:30 a.m., a chaotic bundle of nerves, and fell asleep closer to 4:00 a.m. When I woke the next morning, the suite was a riot of activity.

  Out in the lounge, Annie and the other bridesmaids were having their hair and makeup done. She’d been entirely too nice and hadn’t woken me up. Having overslept, I was running late, and had just enough time to grab a shower before it was my turn with the hairdresser.

  Broderick, the lucky bastard, was already suited, booted, and ready to rock. It really was annoying how much easier men had it on occasions like these. A shower and a shave and they were done.

  It was as the hairdresser was almost done with me that my nerves from the night before started to settle in. I told myself to stop thinking about Sean, to just enjoy my brother’s big day without any additional drama. I owed it to Ronan and Annie. Today was their day.

  After the ceremony and reception, Sean and I could talk. Kiss. Make up. Shag each other’s brains out for days on end. The usual.

  Unfortunately, that things had been silent on his end worried me. I hadn’t received a single phone call or text, and I didn’t know what it meant. Did he get my messages? Or did he just not care? Was he still mad at me for the note? Or was he simply giving me space to work things out with Ronan?

  When Annie came out in her dress, I momentarily forgot my worries about Sean, because I was suddenly welling up. She looked beautiful. Stunning. Like a flipping fairy princess. I sniffled and tried my hardest not to cry so I wouldn’t ruin my makeup. Her white dress had short lace sleeves, a sweetheart neckline, and a floor-length skirt that flowed gorgeously over her curvy hips. Her hair was in an elegant updo, with lots of intricate twists and curls.

  The bridesmaids all wore calf-length, champagne-colored dresses, with lacy sleeves and matching champagne heels. Our hair was styled into sophisticated, loosely-curled chignons. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d looked so hot.

  Mam sat in a corner seat, all dolled up in her pale-blue tulip dress. I could tell from the look she was giving me that my hair was bothering her, mainly because it was so mismatched against the blondes and browns of the other bridesmaids.


  Remembering my promise to Ronan last night, I sucked it up and prepared to ignore her disapproval until we could have a serious talk. I knew I needed therapy, but I thought maybe my mother needed it even more than I did.

  Somebody handed me a mimosa, and before I knew it we were heading downstairs for the ceremony. Since Annie’s parents were deceased, Broderick was going to give her away. As usual, he didn’t seem at all nervous, and in typical Rick style, took on the role with effortless confidence. Annie, on the other hand, looked a little bit peaky.

  I was supposed to be heading up the bridesmaids, but instead I ran quickly back to her, took her clammy hands in mine and told her earnestly, “Ronan is the luckiest man alive to be marrying you. And I’m the luckiest girl to be gaining you as a sister. Don’t be nervous. You’re going to rock this.”

  She swallowed and looked up at me with wide brown eyes. “Thank you. I needed to hear that. There are going to be so many people down there. It’s a little scary.”

  “Just do what I do,” I told her with a grin.

  “What?” she asked. “Imagine them all naked?”

  “Nah. Too obvious. Imagine they’re all naked Henry Cavills. You’ll be smiling in no time.”

  She laughed, her anxiety melting away.

  With that I hurried back out. The function room had been decked out in cream ribbons and pretty flower arrangements. It was the epitome of bridal. Tom, acting as Ronan’s best man, took my arm to walk down the aisle. As we approached the front, I cast my gaze over the attendees, only spotting Sean when I’d almost reached the top. He sat next to a pretty, willowy redhead. This must have been his younger cousin, Eilish, the one he thought of as a little sister.

  I caught his eye but he wore no expression. Despite my best intentions to focus on Ronan and Annie, my heart caught in my throat. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Goosebumps broke out on my skin as I shot him an unsure smile. His non-expression didn’t change. He looked away. I almost got the impression he was embarrassed and my heart took a nosedive to my fancy shoes.