The Player and the Pixie (Rugby #2)

by Penny Reid

  “You did not, you great arsehole,” William laughed. Ronan kneed me in my ribs as he stood, then “accidentally” trod on my hand.

  “Oh fucking hell,” I grumbled, holding my fingers close to my chest as I was freed from the pile.

  “Oh shut it, you big baby.”

  I squinted through one eye and found Ronan standing over me, offering his hand, a small, satisfied smile on his face. When I didn’t accept his offer at once he reached down and pulled me up.

  Standing in front of him, I flexed my fingers. “Feel better?” I asked, working my jaw and finding it sore, but not broken. I’d bitten the inside of my cheek, though I couldn’t tell if the blood dripping down my chin was from my nose or my mouth.

  “Yes.” Ronan nodded, patting me on the shoulder with a solemn kind of affection. “Ready to have another go?”

  I spat blood on the ground and wiped at my nose. “Absolutely—”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Both Ronan and I turned to find Lucy running out to the field, her expression thunderous. “What on earth do you think you’re doing, Ronan? What the hell was that? He’s bleeding from every orifice. Satisfied?”

  Ronan shrugged, fighting a grin. “Not every orifice.”

  Lucy tut-tutted at him and punched him in the stomach. She was strong, but he was clearly prepared for her assault as it affected him not at all.

  “Christ, Luce. We’re rugby players. This is what we do.”

  “Really? Twelve men in a ruck?” Her soft hands were moving over my face with gentle, probing movements and her brow was wrinkled with concern. “Jesus, Sean. You’re all busted up.”

  I smelled her—her perfume, her scent. There’s just something about getting the shit beaten out of you that gets your blood pumping. If I could have taken her on the field right then, I would have.

  I wanted to.

  I grew hard at the thought, understanding why ancient marauders were exhibitionists after violent raids.

  Meanwhile, Ronan crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s had worse. Come on, Luce. You’re holding up the match.”

  Lucy fitted her hand through my arm and led me away, calling over her shoulder, “Well you’re just going to have to play without Sean.”

  “You going to do that, Cassidy? Be led away by your woman?” I heard Bryan Leech taunt from someplace behind me.

  “You bet I am,” I responded immediately, drawing chuckles from my teammates who’d gathered to watch the sibling standoff.

  “Smart man,” someone said. It sounded like Ronan, but I couldn’t be sure.

  I may have only had one working eye, as the other was quickly swelling shut, but I couldn’t take it off Lucy.

  Wherever she led, I would follow.

  ***

  She bathed me.

  It was a glorious experience, though made frustrating by her insistence I not touch her while she tended my wounds. They weren’t terrible, nothing that would leave a scar. I felt entirely mobile, though my left eye was swollen shut and my ribs were sore.

  Nothing a week of ice packs couldn’t fix.

  “Oh! Your face,” she lamented, pulling a towel full of ice cubes away from my eye. She was frowning, gazing upon me with pity and concern. I rather liked it.

  “Don’t worry, none of it’s permanent. Now my face matches your hair.”

  We were sitting on the bed in my suite. Rather, she was sitting next to me and I was laying down, allowing her tender ministrations mostly because I was discovering how much I enjoyed being fussed over. But only if Lucy were doing the fussing. She was still in her bridesmaid dress and I was loosely wrapped in a bathrobe.

  “That’s not funny, Sean,” she said, though there was clear amusement in her words and expression. “I don’t want your face to match my hair. I want your face back to normal.”

  I caught her hand before she pulled it away and admitted abruptly, “I’ve missed you.”

  She gave me a small smile like she found the statement silly, tilting her head to the side and allowing me to hold her fingers hostage. “When did you miss me?”

  “Until now. Until right this moment.” I pressed her palm between mine, studying how we fit together, how my large hand swallowed her much smaller one. “I think I’ve always missed you.”

  We were quiet for a moment and I felt her eyes on me as I examined her fingers. Her nails were both perfect and atrocious. The polish was chipped, the edges uneven. She needed a manicure, but only if she wanted one.

  “I think I’ve missed you all my life,” I murmured unthinkingly to her knuckles before bringing them to my lips.

  She said nothing, allowed me to kiss each of her joints, and then she blurted, “Sean, I’m in love with you.”

  I stilled my movements, hid my unbidden smile with her hand, and closed my eyes. The room was quiet save for the sound of her breathing. The silence was soft, unobtrusive, and Lucy surrounded every part of me. I smelled her. I touched her. She was in my mind and in my heart, her warmth obliterating what was once cold.

  This was a moment I wanted to savor. To remember. To recall.

  Frequently.

  “Sean?” Her voice was small, unsure.

  “Mmm?”

  She shifted on the bed, tried to withdraw her hand. I held it fast, singled out her middle finger and licked it, sucked it into my mouth, ignoring the cut on my cheek.

  A tremor shivered up her arm.

  “What are you doing?” she asked on a breathless whisper.

  “I’m tasting you.”

  Lucy sighed a nervous sounding laugh. “Why are you doing that?”

  “I don’t know,” I responded honestly. “Because I want to and I can.”

  “Are you trying to distract me?”

  “From what?”

  “From that fact that I just spilled my guts to you and you’ve said nothing about it. Not even a measly, ‘Thanks, Lucy. Thanks for being in love with my snobby arse.’”

  I started to laugh but then had to stop, wincing. It hurt my ribs. “Don’t make me laugh.”

  “It would serve you right if I tickled you.”

  My one eye flew open. “Don’t you dare.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Well, I won’t. Because I love you. And I don’t want to see you hurt.”

  I slid my hand up her arm, over her shoulder, threading my fingers in her hair. “I wish I had a picture of us together.”

  She grinned at me, almost shyly. “I have one, if you want it.”

  “You have one?” I tried to remember when we’d taken a picture together, or at least one she hadn’t deleted.

  Lucy reached for the nightstand and handed me my phone. “Type in your passcode.”

  I did as instructed then returned it to her. She concentrated on my screen as she said, “I’m just going to log into my email. I sent it to myself. You’re not allowed to tease me about it, but I made it the desktop image for my laptop.”

  Finished with her task, she showed me the phone again and my mouth parted in surprise. It was the picture I’d taken that first night, when I’d forced her into having dinner with me, unable to help myself.

  She’d ordered the tuna.

  “I thought you deleted it.”

  She shrugged, her smile wry. “I told you that because I didn’t want you to know that I fancied you.”

  “So you kept it.”

  “Yes.” She nodded once.

  “And you looked at it every night.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Not every night.”

  I wanted to smile at that, in fact I wanted to shout my discovery from the rooftops, but my cheek and ribs protested. I loved that she fancied me, the way I looked, enough to keep the image and risk discovery.

  Did that make me vain? Probably. Oh well.

  “I have something for you, too. Go look in the closet.” I held fast to my phone while she walked hesitantly to the bedroom closet. I heard her gasp as she pulled open the door, allowing my eyes to stray from the picture on my mob
ile so I could see the happy expression on her face.

  “This is the coolest dress! Look how sparkly.” She held up the rainbow frock I’d purchased while out with Eilish. “But Sean, it’s really short. Is it a dress or a tunic?”

  “A dress. The kind you should wear for me with no knickers.”

  “I’d be arrested for indecency.” She grinned, hanging it back in the closet, her hands lingering on the sequin of the skirt. “I love it, but you didn’t have to do that.”

  “I wanted to. It reminded me of you. Will you wear it?”

  “What? Now?” She glanced back at the dress.

  “Now, later, soon.”

  “Yes. Of course. But if I go out in it, I’ll be wearing knickers.”

  I made a show of frowning, then motioned to her. “Come here. Please.”

  She came immediately and leaned over me, looking concerned. “What? Why? Are you okay?”

  My attention dropped to her lips. “I want to kiss the woman I love.”

  They parted with surprise then curved into a huge smile. “You love me?”

  I nodded, certain my grin mirrored hers. “I do.”

  “You’re in love with me.” She leaned closer, her eyes wide, and happier than I’d ever seen her. I vowed to put that look in her eyes every day.

  “I’m so in love with you.” I pulled her closer, curling my fingers around the long strands of her hair as she lowered.

  She brushed a soft kiss over my mouth, giggling and grinning at me. “I can’t believe you’re in love with me.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know,” she said with wonder. “I just, I don’t know. It feels funny to say or think about. Like, Sean Cassidy, bubble-butted brute is head over heels in love with flaky Lucy Fitzpatrick. The most mismatched couple in the world.”

  “We’re perfect together.” I smoothed a hand down her side and lifted her fancy dress, searching for the edge of her knickers and finding the sweet spot between her thighs.

  She stiffened, her smile falling away. “What are you doing?”

  “I want to taste you. Sit on my face, let me—”

  She tried to back away, but I had a hold on her hair.

  “No, no, no. You’re all bruised ribs and cuts. I’m taking care of you.”

  “Then take care of me,” I whispered, releasing her hair and bringing her hand to my cock.

  Her mouth fell open. “Are you ever not horny?”

  “Only when I’m not with you. And even then I’m semi-hard, because I’m thinking of you.”

  Lucy threw her head back and laughed. I allowed myself to chuckle, enjoying her free and easy smiles. As her laughter tapered off, her hand closed over my erection and stroked once.

  “Rest now. More lessons later.”

  As best I could, I lifted an eyebrow at this news. “You mean there’s more? More lessons?”

  My Lucy winked at me and grinned, holding my gaze hostage with hers. “Oh Sean, my love, with you and me, there’s going to be a lifetime of lessons.”

  Epilogue

  @LucyFitz What’s the deal with Yorkie Bars these days? Def getting smaller.

  @BroderickAdams to @LucyFitz My opinion? Chocolate manufacturers and WHO are conspiring to screw us while continuing to hike prices #candyconspiracy

  @RonanFitz to @LucyFitz They decided to model them on the size of @SeanCassinova’s manhood.

  @SeanCassinova to @RonanFitz Or the size of your IQ.

  *Lucy*

  Some years later…

  “I really like the burgundy one. The flower print is too busy.”

  A yellow taxi honked in the background as I held my phone up in front of me, multi-tasking hurrying through a busy Manhattan street and video-chatting with Mam.

  “But the flower print has a higher neckline. You know I’m self-conscious of my neck these days, Lucy.”

  “Your neck is fine. Get the burgundy dress. You’ll look drop dead gorgeous in it and this date of yours will think he won the flippin’ lottery.”

  My mother worried her lip, a frown marring her forehead. She was seriously overthinking her outfit choice. And before you wonder, no, hell hadn’t frozen over. Me and my mother were having a friendly conversation like a pair of old pals. It hadn’t become our norm, not yet; but I had high hopes that it would be in another two years.

  Therapy was a work in progress. Sure, it took a whole lot of convincing on Ronan’s part to finally get her to see the light, but in the end she’d agreed to join me for a few sessions. A few sessions turned into every session, and I’m not gonna lie, in the beginning it had been rough. We had a lifetime’s worth of issues to get through, after all.

  The first day I stepped into Dr. Hollyfield’s office he’d told me about a little thing called the phone test. If a certain person calls you and you just can’t bear to pick up and talk to them, then they’re probably toxic and you should cut them from your life. If it’s a person you can’t cut from your life, then you need to find a new approach to dealing with them.

  “What if he doesn’t like me?” Mam asked. “Or what if we can’t think of anything to talk about?”

  “Now you’re just being ridiculous,” I answered. “Look at you, you’re a catch. Plus, we both know you can talk for Ireland, so don’t give me that.”

  She wiggled her head and gave me a small grin. “If you say so.”

  In the case of Mam and me, I started to realize that no matter how much she nagged or how many times she commented on my appearance, there was nothing she could really do stop me living my life how I wanted. She could say whatever she liked, I’d still dye my hair whatever color I chose, date who I wanted to date, and wear the clothes I liked wearing.

  As we delved deeper into our issues, we had a lot of breakthroughs. I learned about her insecurities that stemmed back to her relationship with my dad and how his family had shunned her. He’d later died tragically, leaving her feeling helpless and alone. All these things hardened her, but now she was seeing Dr. Hollyfield on her own as well as during our sessions.

  “I do say so. Now go glam yourself up. This guy doesn’t know what’s about to hit him.”

  Now she laughed, a blush coloring her cheeks that was almost girlish. “He’s a builder, you know. Works with his hands…”

  “Okay, stop right there. I can give you as many pep talks as you need, but I really don’t want to know anything about his hands and what he does with them.”

  She rolled her eyes at me. Yes, that’s right, my own mother rolled her eyes – at me. I thought I was supposed to be the kid here. “Fine. I’ll say no more. Give my love to Ronan and Annie when you see them. Tell them I miss them and can’t wait for them to come home next week.”

  “I will, Mam. Enjoy your date. I’ll call you tomorrow for all the details.”

  “Looking forward to it.” She paused, her smile growing a little watery before adding, “I love you, Lucy.”

  I returned her smile and her sincerity. “Love you, too.”

  Hanging up, I reflected on how things had changed. Our relationship wasn’t perfect, but she was happier. I was happier. I was beginning to look forward to her phone calls and that felt like a flippin’ miracle!

  Oh yes, and I hadn’t stolen a single thing in over two years. I didn’t even take the complimentary slippers and toiletries when I stayed in hotels. I was a whole new woman.

  I slid my phone back in my bag and continued on my way, hoping I wasn’t going to be late. Ronan and Annie were in New York all week for business meetings and I was supposed to be having dinner with them at Tom’s restaurant.

  Whenever my brother and his wife came to visit there was no keeping them away from Tom’s. Annie was absolutely crazy about the food there. She even said herself that she’d sell the soul of her firstborn child for the secret recipe to his pecan pie.

  Rounding the corner to the restaurant, I glanced in the window to see them sitting in a booth. Ronan had his arm around Annie as he affectionately placed a kiss on he
r temple. My heart ached as I watched them, so in love, because it made me miss Sean even more than I already did.

  Unfortunately, it was going on three weeks now that I hadn’t seen him, and though video chat was a godsend, it just wasn’t the same as seeing him in person. There were so many nights that I found myself hugging my pillow, wishing it was him. And don’t even get me started on cyber-sex. We’d become quite adept at it, both desperate for each other but separated by an entire ocean.

  With a heavy sigh, I opened the door and was instantly hit with the mouth-watering aroma of Tom’s red wine gravy. There was just something about his food that always smelled like home, and I felt a little less heartsick as I stepped inside.

  Ronan lifted his hand when he saw me come in, waving me over, and I began shrugging out of my jacket as I slid into the booth on the other side of them.

  “Hey you two! God, I’m starving,” I said as I settled into the seat. “I’ve been chasing after that new Australian singer all day, trying to get pictures for the blog. You know the one who sings that song they keep playing on repeat everywhere? Plus I had a shift at the animal shelter this morning and they just rescued ten puppies, none of which wanted a bath.”

  “Hi Lucy,” said Annie, biting her lip, for some reason not commenting on what I’d just said.

  “Luce,” Ronan nodded in greeting. I glanced between the two of them, getting the sense that something was up. Annie’s mouth twitched, like she wanted to smile but was trying to hold it in.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, my tone suspicious. When I moved my foot under the table it met with something bulky; I ducked my head to see a suitcase had been shoved under there. I looked back to Ronan and Annie. “What’s with the suitcase? Don’t tell me you two are going home early! I feel like you just got here.”

  Ronan lifted a shoulder and took a swig of the water sitting in front of him. “Nah, we’re still here until next week.”

  Annie giggled in barely restrained glee as she pinched Ronan on the arm. He cast her an indulgent look and shook his head with a sigh. “You’re such a little romantic.”

  “Okay, will one of you tell me what’s going on before we all die of hunger,” I complained. As I said it, something caught my eye on the other side of the restaurant. The door leading to the men’s bathroom opened up, a man stepping out.