by Mari Carr
“I’ll get it.” Emmy stepped away then returned from the kitchen with half a fifth of bourbon, a couple cans of Coke, two more red Solo cups, and Robbie in tow. She started to hand one to Kelli, who shook her head.
“Fuck no. I’m good with the wine.”
“I like bourbon,” Robbie said, taking the extra cup.
Emmy played bartender for once, pouring each of the guys a drink, though she was more generous with the Coke than Padraig had been. Brooke joined them as the women lifted their wineglasses, the men their cups, and Colm issued his usual toast.
“Bottoms up. Especially yours.”
“Hey,” Sunnie said, crossing the room to Colm. “Where the hell is Darcy?”
Colm shrugged. “She texted me around seven and said she had to work a little late, but I thought she’d be here by now.”
“I better call her and che—”
Sunnie stopped mid-sentence as the lights flickered and then went out completely.
The room, which had been filled with music and loud voices, was suddenly very quiet and pitch-black.
“What the hell?” Sunnie said.
Several people pulled out their cell phones and fired up the flashlight app. When a few minutes passed, it became pretty obvious the power wasn’t coming back on.
Kelli made her way over to the window. “It’s not just us. Looks like the whole street is out. It’s dark as sin out there.”
Everyone started talking at once because, as Kelli had learned a long time ago, that was how the Collins clan communicated. It had taken her quite a few years when she was younger to get the knack of talking and listening at the same time, but the skill had come in handy now that she was a kindergarten teacher.
Suddenly, a loud whistle cut through the noise and everyone fell silent again.
“Jesus, Sunnie. I think you pierced my eardrum,” Landon said.
“Sorry,” Sunnie said, without an ounce of remorse in her voice. “But they weren’t quieting down for you.”
Landon shook his head, then said, “Hey, listen up. It’s a city-wide blackout. Transformer fire at a substation. They don’t know how long the power will be out.” Landon looked around. “Miguel? Where are you, man?”
“Over here,” Miguel called out from a shadowy area near the dining room table.
“Aaron just called. They need us to go into work.”
Miguel and Landon were both on the Baltimore police force, and Colm’s uncle Aaron was their boss. Both of them had been drinking soda because every cop was officially “on call” on Halloween. As such, Kelli suspected every cop in the city was being called in at the moment. Blackouts were prime season for looting and God only knew what else in Baltimore. Add in the Halloween factor and chances were good shit could go south fast.
“Dammit,” Sunnie grumbled, even as she gave Landon a quick kiss on the cheek. “Be careful.”
Miguel and Landon shone themselves a path with the flashlights on their phones, making their way to the steps that led down to the pub.
Yvonne followed. “I’d better go help Dad sort things out with whoever is still dining on Sunday’s Side.”
“Oh yeah. The pub.” Padraig started to follow her, but Colm put a hand on his chest to stop him.
“I need to help Dad, Colm.”
“Yeah. I’m not sure how much help you’d be at the moment, Bro.”
Mercifully, Finn emerged with Layla. “We’ll go down and help Uncle Tris, Paddy. Why don’t you stay up here and help Sunnie?”
Kelli walked over to Sunnie. “Want some help trying to clean up?”
“Clean up?” Sunnie asked. “The night is still young.”
Kelli laughed. God. She should have known better than to assume a little thing like no lights or music would dim the festivities.
Ailis and Caitlyn had managed to round up a bunch of candles, lighting them, which created the perfect atmosphere for a spooky Halloween party.
“Okay, okay,” Sunnie said, trying to get everyone’s attention. When that failed, she stuck two fingers in the corners of her mouth again and pierced the air with another of her loud whistles. Kelli had asked Sunnie to teach her how to do that once, thinking it would come in handy on the playground at recess, but Kelli hadn’t been able to produce the ear-splintering volume Sunnie was capable of.
Once everyone was quiet, Sunnie held up a bottle of tequila. “I’ve got an idea for an awesome game.”
“Oh yeah. This is where the night takes a horrible, horrible turn,” Colm muttered sarcastically and just loud enough for everyone to hear him.
“Oh ye of little faith, Colm,” Sunnie chastised. “You all know the movie A Quiet Place, right?”
“I don’t do scary movies,” Ailis said.
Sunnie dismissed that. “Yeah, but you know the main gist of it, don’t you?”
“You can’t talk or the monsters kill you?” Ailis asked.
“Yes!” Sunnie was clearly excited about her plan. “Except in our game, I’m the monster and if I hear you, you have to take a shot of tequila.”
“So you expect us to walk around here the rest of the night not talking?” Lochlan asked. Kelli practically heard the light bulb go on when Lochlan said, “I think I can get behind this game.”
Lucas laughed and agreed. “Me too. Might go down as the best Collins party in history.”
Caitlyn elbowed her husband. “You guys are only saying that because you think we’re too loud.”
“I just think this might prove once and for all,” Lucas said, “that it is physically impossible for you Collins ladies to be together and not talking at top volume.”
Caitlyn narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Twenty bucks says it’s the men who drink the most shots by the end of the night.”
And just like that, the betting and arguing over contest terms was on.
There was a longstanding argument between the male and female Collinses that the women talked too much and too loud. Of course, that wasn’t the part the ladies debated. They insisted the men were just as loud and talked just as much.
Kelli had been around long enough that she’d chosen a side, residing firmly in the women’s camp. She’d spent too many playdates with Padraig, Colm, and their other male cousins, Lochlan, Finn, Oliver, and Fergus, not to know exactly how loud they could get. Especially when it involved sports.
“That’s not a fair contest. Not with Sunnie pouring the drinks. She’ll only hear the men whispering,” Fergus said.
“Agreed,” Colm chimed in. “We need an impartial third party. Emmy, you don’t have a horse in this race, right?”
Emmy laughed. “It’s safe to say I think you’re all insane, but no, I would have no problem handing out the shots fairly. Kind of like the idea of being a monster. Wish I’d known ahead of time. Paddy and I could have come as vampires or something.”
“Damn. Missed opportunity,” Padraig said, laughing, as he held his hands up like claws, adopting a Dracula accent. “I vant to suck your blood!”
Kelli couldn’t help but grin. Padraig was actually a pretty funny drunk. She couldn’t wait to tease him about this in the morning.
Once the wagers were placed—which took a ridiculous amount of time—Sunnie declared the game was on.
And just like that…silence.
For about thirty-two seconds. Which was how long it took for Padraig to ask Emmy if she’d seen his drink.
At which point, they all cracked up laughing, then started again.
Kelli was amazed by how well the game worked after that, and how much fun it was. They started using all the rooms in the apartment to hide and chat while Emmy, who nailed her role as the monster, lurked in the shadows, unseen until—boom! Tequila shot.
Kelli was equal parts amused and terrified. It was perfect. They’d been playing for nearly two hours and no one was getting tired of it. Of course, the power still wasn’t on, so it wasn’t like there were a lot of other options either.
She ran into Padraig in the tiny off
ice. He still wasn’t super quiet, but at least he was managing to whisper now. Mercifully, Emmy stopped “catching” him because he was already going to be hungover enough tomorrow.
Kelli couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his head tonight.
“You okay?” she mouthed/whispered into his ear. Through the dim candlelight, she saw him nod.
“Just,” he shrugged, “a bad day. Seamus broke off the leash this morning and ran. I lost sight of him for a few minutes. Found him, but it brought up some old memories and…”
He let Kelli fill in what he wasn’t saying. Seamus had been Mia’s dog, the sweet animal completely devoted to her. Since then, he’d been Padraig’s constant companion. Padraig called him his sidekick and he loved the dog to distraction.
Kelli could only imagine the panic Padraig must have felt when Seamus was lost, and she didn’t want to consider the day the dear dog passed away. Right now, Seamus was Padraig’s strongest, most important connection to Mia, and if—God, when—he lost him, she worried how Padraig would react.
“I understand,” she whispered. “I’m glad you found him.”
Padraig nodded, his face clearing slowly, and he gave her a genuine smile. “I love you, Kell. You’re so sweet.”
“Said no one ever,” she joked.
“You’re my best friend. I couldn’t live without you.”
She knew it was the bourbon talking, so she rolled her eyes in an attempt not to show how much his words meant to her. “I love you too, you drunk lunatic.”
He chuckled as he gave her a kiss on the cheek, and then they snuck out of the room, scanning the area for the monster.
A few minutes later, she ran into Robbie in Oliver’s bedroom. He and Fergus had been silently laughing over Fergus’s girlfriend having to take yet another shot. Aubrey was struggling to grasp the concept of whispering quietly.
Robbie tiptoed over to her, bending until his lips were at her ear. “Thanks for inviting me. What a great night.”
Kelli smiled, twisting until it was her mouth at his ear. “I’m glad you came. And thanks for saying yes to the other thing.”
Robbie’s grin was huge and infectious. He was a nice guy and, for a moment, she tried to recall why exactly they hadn’t worked out as a couple in college.
“I’m honored you asked.” Then he, like Padraig, gave her a kiss on the cheek. She was batting a thousand on platonic pecks tonight.
Story of my life.
Robbie lifted his empty cup and pointed toward the kitchen. She nodded, and they quietly walked down the hall. Through the dim light in the living room, she saw Colm and Brooke leaving.
She smirked. At least someone was getting lucky tonight.
Which led to another thought. There was now an empty bedroom—and it had her name all over it. The wine—she’d had way too much again—as well as the screwdrivers Brooke had given her when her wine ran out, were making her sleepy and sluggish.
She leaned toward Robbie and whispered, “Too much wine.” She pointed above her head. “Might lie down a few minutes. Head spinning.”
He nodded. “Going to play longer. I’ll come up before I leave.”
“Okay.”
They’d driven to the party separately since Kelli had already made plans with Darcy to spend the night here. She’d intended to sleep on the couch, but there were still too many people playing that game, and God only knew when they’d call it quits.
She’d text Colm in the morning and tell him she had shanghaied his bed. He wouldn’t care.
She stealthily made her way up to Colm’s room. It was still dark, so she had to feel her way around. Her phone was in her purse, which she’d tucked away in a closet downstairs. She considered going back down for it, then thought screw it. She was too close to a bed and too damn tired.
She unzipped her dress, sucking in a deep, relieved breath. The corset part was snug, and as the night wore on, it had gotten more and more uncomfortable. It had a built-in bra, so as she pushed the gown over her hips, Kelli realized she was basically naked, only her panties remaining.
She didn’t care.
She tossed the dress into the corner where she thought there might be a chair, then gingerly made her way to the bed. Sinking onto the soft mattress, she crawled under the covers and sighed blissfully.
Colm had a very soft bed.
Kelli closed her eyes, listening to the rush of white noise pulsing through her ears that told her she was going to have one heck of a headache tomorrow.
“Too much wine,” she whispered to the empty room.
When her announcement was met with silence, another thought came to her, one that hurt as she spoke it aloud.
“Alone again.”
Chapter Four
Colm went back up to the Collins Dorm with Brooke and without the vodka they’d gone down to the pub for. She’d been drinking screwdrivers all night, and she’d run out of liquor. Colm had figured that was probably a good thing since they’d both over-imbibed, but Brooke had found Padraig and asked if they could “borrow” some from the pub.
His brother had said yes and offered to go get it, but Colm didn’t want his drunk twin staggering behind the counter, surrounded by all that glass.
He’d offered to go, and Brooke had followed, as he led the way using the flashlight on his almost-dead cell phone. Once they were alone in the pub, Brooke had taken advantage of the ability to finally talk, giving him a rapid play-by-play of the game from her perspective. He hadn’t bothered to mention he’d pretty much been there for the whole thing—and it had suddenly occurred to him, he’d really enjoyed the last couple of hours because it had been peaceful.
Brooke could talk.
A lot.
A fucking lot.
Once he’d had the bottle in hand, he’d rounded the counter, where Brooke waited for him. She’d stopped him with a hand on his chest, lifting her face to his. He’d placed the vodka and his phone on the bar and tugged her closer, attempting a kiss, but his beard was in the way. Brooke didn’t appear to care about that when her hands drifted from his chest to his hips, pulling him closer and letting him know she was ready to move this party to the next level.
“Let’s go upstairs,” he’d murmured, ready to shed his damn costume.
“Okay,” she’d whispered back.
Colm had picked up his phone and left the vodka on the bar.
Once they’d returned to the living room, he’d started to direct her to the second set of stairs that would lead to his bedroom.
They’d originally planned to go back to her place after the party, but both of them had consumed way too much, and with the blackout, Colm wasn’t sure he wanted to attempt to grab an Uber and make his way across the too-dark city to her apartment. His room would be just fine.
They were at the foot of the steps when Sunnie stopped him.
“Tap on the keg is jacked up. Can you fix it?” she whispered. “I’d ask Paddy, but…”
She didn’t bother to finish that sentence.
Colm nodded, then looked at Brooke. “I’ll meet you in my room.” He added, “Second door on the left,” at the same time Emmy stepped out of the shadows and did her hilarious monster growl.
Shit. Busted. Again.
He took the tequila shot as Brooke made her way upstairs.
Colm followed Sunnie to the kitchen to fix the tap. Two twists and the thing shot beer straight into his face like a geyser.
“Shit!” he cursed loudly. Emmy appeared, but he shot her a look that said he was not paying the penalty when she walked in, tequila bottle raised.
She giggled at the sight of his fake beard, dripping with beer, and left again.
“Fucking wig and beard,” he grumbled, taking them off and tossing them onto the kitchen counter.
“Oh my God. You and Paddy are twins again!” Sunnie whispered, reaching up to touch his clean-shaven cheek.
“Not for long. I’m growing the beard back again tomorrow. Couldn’t get the Hagrid
one to stick to my face with my own beard in the way.” He’d shaved it off just before the party when he got sick of fucking around with the glue. Oliver had laughed his ass off when he saw what he’d done, proclaiming Colm was going too far just to win a costume contest. Colm had shaken his head and joked that Oliver must have been switched at birth because no true Collins would question his dedication to winning, no matter the cost.
Sunnie obviously was a Collins through and through because she merely gave him a look that said she wouldn’t have expected anything less from him. “It really was an amazing costume. You would have won if not for…”
“Baby shark.”
“Yeah. That was awesome.”
Colm tucked away Sunnie’s compliment about his costume, ready to bring it out to razz Kelli with at a later date.
He’d kicked off the platform boots a couple hours earlier, changing into a pair of comfortable tennis shoes. Shrugging off the padded trench coat, he sighed, glad to be out of the heavy thing and able to move again.
He tackled the tap again and managed to fix it. Leaving his costume in the kitchen, he headed upstairs with two things on his mind.
Sex, then sleep.
He’d just walked into his bedroom when he remembered his phone was in the pocket of the trench coat. He tried to see Brooke through the darkness, but the room was pitch-black. He couldn’t even see his hand in front of his face. For a moment, he considered going down to grab his phone, just for the light.
“It’s me,” he whispered, but he got no response.
Fuck it. He didn’t need light for sex. He knew where all the important parts were.
A slight rustle in the bed told him Brooke was already lying down and ready to go. They’d gone out a dozen or so times in the past few months, but neither of them was interested in jumping from casual dating to a full-blown relationship. Brooke had admitted over dinner earlier in the evening that she wasn’t looking for anything serious at the moment. According to her, all she wanted was “a good time with no strings.”
Colm could definitely handle the good time. And no strings was his preferred state of being.
Or at least, it used to be. Before Kelli started talking about babies, and he’d starting to think maybe his “good times” weren’t that much fun anymore.