The Cad and the Co-Ed

by Penny Reid

  “I don’t,” I said, my tone a little too eager. I just didn’t want this day to end. It was bizarre, because my life seemed set in stone only a week ago, but now everything was changing. And I didn’t technically dislike the change.

  “Oh. In that case, you’re welcome to join us,” she went on, her voice pitched high and breathy, clearly nervous. “Sean will be coming, too. His Lucy is away in New York, so he usually eats with us.”

  “Did you make sure to slaughter a cow this morning?” I joked.

  “She slaughtered two, actually,” came Sean’s voice as he joined us. “And you’re one to talk. I saw you put away three burritos after training last week, and you still had room for dessert.”

  I grinned at Eilish. “I hope you have a fully stocked fridge.”

  “I made pasta bake.” She lifted an eyebrow at me, the side of her lips tugging to one side. “It’s got four different cheeses, both sausage and chicken, and about a trillion calories per serving, so if you’re both still hungry at the end, I’ll eat my hat.”

  Sean smiled widely, as did I. “Challenge accepted.”

  * * *

  Eilish lived in a small apartment just outside the city. It was in a two-story Victorian that had been split into two separate units. Eilish’s place took up the bottom floor. Though it wasn’t big, it was a sought-after location, so I wondered if her family was footing part of the bill. If they weren’t contributing monetarily, then they’d most certainly pulled some strings to get her the place.

  Not that I was judging her. In fact, I wished I’d been footing the bill all these years instead of her hoity-toity parents. It made me feel pretty worthless, if I was honest, and I was already making mental plans to pay her back for all the years of child support I’d missed. I could afford it, and more.

  In fact, if I had my way I’d give her every last penny in my bank account by way of penance. Because that is what I owed her. She had been raising Patrick on her own. And studied. And now worked full time. There wasn’t any way I could pay her back. She had sacrificed more than money. She’d sacrificed herself.

  If I wasn’t careful, Eilish Cassidy would be elevated to sainthood level in my mind. I decided I should debauch her before this happened.

  Having followed her and Sean in my Land Rover, I scoped out the neighborhood and begrudgingly accepted that it was a nice place to bring up a kid. I almost wished she’d been living in a crap hole. That way I could swoop in and save the day. But no, it seemed Eilish was doing okay for herself without me.

  The reality of her circumstances gave me the sense of being dispensable, and I didn’t like it. A weird itching in my chest flared, one that had been present since she’d left me in the restaurant a week ago, this need for her to need me. I may have been entertaining fantasies for the last seven days where I was her knight in shining armor, but clearly she wasn’t a damsel in distress. She’d survived a teen pregnancy and the scandal that went along with it. She’d even managed to bring up this fantastic little boy all on her own.

  And where was I?

  This thought made breathing difficult, but I owned it. I owned the discomfort. I deserved it for every shitty, selfish decision I’d made.

  And after I wallowed for a minute, I left my car and the sense of unworthiness behind me. Patrick was my son. Eilish was his mother. I hadn’t deserved them five years ago, but damn if I wasn’t going to do everything in my power to deserve their trust now.

  They were already inside when I made my way down the hall to her door, where Sean was waiting for me in the hallway. I paused and eyed him.

  “You did very well today,” he said, arms folded across his chest as he surveyed me.

  “Happy to hear you approve,” I deadpanned and made to move by him. He got in my way.

  “I hope you’ll continue this good behavior,” he went on, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I thought he might be enjoying this. “I wouldn’t want to have to escort you off the premises.”

  I shot him a wry look. “Like you could.”

  “I’m bigger than you.”

  I scoffed. “By about an inch.”

  “Inches matter,” he shrugged, “or so I’ve been told.”

  Ignoring this statement, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Look, I’ve no intention of doing anything to upset Eilish or Patrick. I know I’m a lucky bugger to even be in this situation, so believe me when I say I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  Now his lips twitched, like he was trying to hold in a smile. “See that you do.”

  Finally, he let me pass. As soon as I entered the room I was struck by how cozy it was. It smelled like Eilish, like watermelon, like summer, like home.

  God, I really needed to get a handle on this obsession I had with her. Maybe she was interested in me solely as the father of her son, nothing else. Nothing romantic.

  Then again, maybe not.

  She’d been the one to kiss me last month, hadn’t she? That was something.

  But I couldn’t be freaking her out, not when my desire to know and be around Patrick had grown so quickly into a physical need.

  Much like it was to be close to Eilish.

  Speaking of, I’d been torturing myself for days trying to remember our night together, but all I got were brief flashes, nothing concrete. I rewound to Ronan and Annie’s wedding, but remembered hardly anything. I could barely even remember arriving at the ceremony. It was so fucked up.

  Correction: I’d been so fucked up.

  But I wasn’t anymore.

  Still, I caught phantom images of red hair and pale, silky skin in my mind, but I couldn’t tell if they were real memories or just my brain showing me what I wanted to see. I was dying to ask her. Maybe if she could recount how we met it would help me remember. It felt important that I did, but there was no way to broach the subject, not with things so tentative between us, and definitely not with Sean hanging around to supervise.

  Eilish was puttering about in the kitchen when I turned back to Sean. “By the way, we need to talk.”

  “Yes, we will. Later.” He lifted his chin, then nodded soberly, understanding in his eyes.

  I nodded back and then went into the living room to join Patrick. Sean went into the kitchen and I could hear both he and Eilish conducting a hushed conversation. I wondered what they were discussing. Me, most likely. Patrick seemed completely unaware of the tension, and I happily let myself fall into his obliviousness for a while.

  About twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door. I discreetly leaned forward to peek out the window and saw a youngish guy standing outside the door. He was average height with light blond hair that was attempting a man bun. I say “attempting” because it wasn’t yet long enough to be tied up, and so formed a sort of nub at the top of his head. It also looked as though he was cultivating a beard, but his facial hair was too light to achieve the full effect.

  Now who the hell was this nob-jockey?

  Eilish’s light footsteps sounded down the hall. I strained my ears to listen when she answered the door.

  “Trevor. What are you doing here?” she breathed.

  “Eilish, hey. You look great. I just wanted to drop by and grab that copy of Iron Man I loaned you.”

  There was a short moment of silence and Eilish lowered her voice. “Right, yes, I’ll just go get it for you. Wait here.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “No. I mean, now’s not a good time,” she replied, her voice strained.

  Man, this wasn’t her boyfriend, was it? My protective instincts kicked in, or was it my possessive instincts? She didn’t sound too happy that he’d come by. Before I could think things through, I was up and stepping into the small entryway, closing the door to the living room firmly behind me.

  “Eilish, is everything all right?” I asked, furrowing my brow at Man-Bun. He straightened when he saw me and gave me a quick sweep up and down, his mouth forming a tight line of displeasure.

  “Yes, everything is fine. Trevor just stopped b
y to collect a film I borrowed from him.”

  I shot Trevor a hard look. “Is that right?”

  He was practically scowling at me now. “Yeah, I’m her boyfrie—”

  “Ex-boyfriend,” Eilish cut in.

  Well, there it was, my worst fears confirmed. Eilish was a million times too good for this loser. I mean, how did he even manage to score her? The bloke looked like he could fall into a barrel of tit and come out sucking his thumb. Did she have low self-esteem?

  Okay, so maybe I was judging him prematurely. After all, I didn’t know him. But come on, all evidence pointed to nob-jockey man-child territory.

  “And who are you?” Trevor asked, all petulant. He looked like he was preparing to get comfortable, like he was going to stand in Eilish’s doorway until she finally gave up and invited him in.

  “Patrick’s father,” I shot back pointedly and heard a tiny squeak of a gasp from Eilish.

  “Oh,” said Trevor, the steam going out of his engine altogether.

  I wondered why Sean hadn’t come out yet. If I knew anything about my teammate, it was that he’d rather Eilish date John Mayer than this piece of work. I’d say he was jumping for joy when Eilish dumped him. I mean, come on. It had to have been her who did the dumping.

  A moment of silence elapsed and I relished every second of it, unable to help the smug smile claiming my mouth.

  “I’ll just . . . uh . . . go grab that movie real quick,” she said haltingly, as though she didn’t want to leave me alone with her ex, but she didn’t have another choice.

  I wasn’t going anywhere.

  Avoiding my eyes as she passed, I waited until she was gone before turning my full attention to Trevor. Taking a few steps closer, I marched him backward and out of the doorway. “What’s your game?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Why are you here?” I asked, enunciating my words like he was slow. He didn’t like that. I could tell by how the vein in his forehead popped.

  “I came to get my movie back.”

  “Bullshit. What do you want with Eilish?”

  “Hey! Our relationship is none of your business.”

  I cocked my head. “You don’t have a relationship. You broke up, so quit finding convenient reasons to stop by. How many times has it been this week, huh? Three? Four?”

  He clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring. “Like I said, it’s none of your bus—”

  “Of course it’s my business. We have a child together.”

  “She never mentioned you before.”

  “She didn’t need to. I’m standing right in front of you now. And I’m telling you to sling your hook. Whatever went on between you, which I’m sure wasn’t much, is over. I’m here now.”

  “You can’t just—”

  I stepped even closer, breathing down on him. “Trevor, do yourself and favor and leave. Eilish dumped you. Move on.”

  Something about the way I said it must’ve hit a nerve because his lip began to quiver. Without another word, he turned and stomped away.

  I watched him go and . . . now I felt bad.

  Well, kind of.

  I shut the door and let out a heavy sigh. I didn’t need him coming around bothering Eilish, especially not with Patrick in the mix. The idea of her dating, of strange men being around my kid, made me want to break something. It was a foreign sensation, and some might argue I had no right being territorial given I’d only just come into their lives, but I couldn’t help it. I had a deep and uncontrollable need to protect them, particularly from unworthy arseholes like Trevor.

  Needing a glass of water, I made my way down to the kitchen and found Sean sitting by the counter, a beer in his hand and a smirk on his face.

  “I must say, that was quite the performance.”

  I grit my teeth. “You were listening.”

  “Of course I was. Wouldn’t want to miss you putting Trevor Donovan in his place. Never liked the fellow myself.” He handed me a bottle of water, and I popped it open.

  “He looks like a fucking twat, Sean. What was Eilish thinking?”

  “She was thinking it’s none of your business,” came another voice, and I winced. Eilish stood in the doorway, her expression hard. “What happened to Trevor?”

  “He left,” I answered simply and knocked back a gulp of water.

  “What did you say to him?”

  I shrugged. “A few home truths.”

  “You had absolutely no right,” Eilish said. Her tone was calm but her entire body radiated tension.

  I took a step toward her and moved to place a hand on her shoulder; she flinched out of my grip, her eyes shooting daggers.

  Was it wrong I found her irresistibly sexy when she was angry?

  But I didn’t want her to be angry, not with me. In order to see my way safely out of this mess, I was going to have to channel old-school Bryan Leech, the charming bugger who could talk his way out of a military quarantine, not the crusty old bastard I was now.

  The main problem was, I didn’t know if any part of the old me was left.

  14

  @THEBryanLeech: Why does Dracula have no friends? Because he’s a real pain in the neck. LOL.

  @RonanFitz to @THEBryanLeech: I thought it was because he’s always hogging the batroom :-D

  @WillthebrickhouseMoore to @THEBryanLeech @RonanFitz: I worry for you both…I really do.

  *Bryan*

  Careful to keep my voice conversational, I gave Eilish a smile that I hoped was equal parts charming and apologetic. “You obviously didn’t want him coming around. I thought I was doing you a favor, but I overstepped the line. My mistake. I apologize, it won’t happen again.”

  At this I heard a snort from behind. Sean. Clearly, he didn’t believe me. Or my smoothing-skills were now terrible. Probably a bit of both.

  “Yes, well, apology accepted,” Eilish said, stiff as she took another step backward. I got the sense she didn’t like or appreciate my closeness. “But I would like it if you—both of you,” her eyes flickered to Sean and then back to me, “respected my boundaries. My personal life is mine.”

  “Right.” I drank some more water while she turned to open the oven, disliking everything about this conversation. Sean appeared to be thoroughly enjoying the scene, and I didn’t get it. I’d expected him to warn me away from Eilish, but he seemed almost encouraging of me being here. It didn’t make sense.

  I was quiet as she dished up the food, and a few minutes later, we were all sitting down to eat. I focused my attention on Patrick, amazed by how much pasta sauce he could get on his face in a matter of seconds. Every once in a while, my gazed flicked to Eilish, but she studiously avoided looking at me, instead choosing to talk to Sean about how Lucy was doing in New York, and how the long distance was affecting them.

  “What do you think about Trevor?” I asked Patrick quietly while Eilish was distracted chatting to Sean.

  Patrick scrunched up his brow. “Who’s that?”

  “A friend of your mummy’s. He’s got hair like this,” I said and swept a few locks back to imitate a man bun.

  “I don’t know anybody who looks like that,” said Patrick, all matter of fact, and then a second later his attention was back on his food.

  Interesting.

  Eilish had never introduced Trevor to Patrick. That must mean things weren’t that serious between them. The idea made my chest swell with caveman satisfaction. A memory of the massage she gave me earlier in the week popped into my head, like it had been for days now. Her touch was seared into me, the way she worked my muscles over with her delicate hands. I knew I was a bastard to be turned on by it, but I was, and there’d been something in her eyes that made me suspect she was, too.

  I needed her to touch me again.

  She must’ve sensed my thoughts because her eyes flicked up suddenly and her cheeks heated when she saw how I was looking at her.

  “May I be excused?” Patrick stood suddenly, grabbing his plate, his eyes darting to the small clock on the
kitchen wall.

  Eilish gave our son an indulgent smile. “Yes. Fine. But only one show, okay? And then it’s story time.”

  He nodded quickly, clearing his plate and dashing out of the kitchen.

  “He likes TV, huh?” I remarked as soon as Patrick had left the room.

  Eilish opened her mouth to respond but Sean answered for her, “It’s because she rations it. He’s only allowed to watch half an hour a day.”

  “It’s for me, too,” she sought to clarify, her eyebrows drawing low in consternation. “It would be so easy for me to let him watch hours of TV in the evenings and weekends, so I can get a break. But I don’t want that for him. I don’t want that for us.”

  “When do you get a break?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual even as guilt gnawed at my insides.

  Her eyes dropped to her plate. She reached for her water and took a sip.

  “Here and there.” Her posture turned self-conscious.

  I inched closer, trying not to show how much that answer bothered me. “That can’t be very good for you,” I said softly, my voice full of concern.

  “I do fine,” Eilish shrugged like it was no big deal, and a tension-filled silence elapsed.

  “Poor old Trevor,” said Sean humorously, changing the subject. “However will he spend his evening now that he hasn’t got his Iron Man DVD to watch?”

  My lips twitched in a small smile. Cassidy could be a wind-up merchant when the mood took him, but since Trevor was his target I was happy to play along. For the first time today I was glad of his presence. He quelled the tension between Eilish and I, if nothing else.

  “Maybe he’ll settle for Thor instead. Hey. I just realized who he bases his look on.”

  Sean snickered derisively. “Nobody would cast Trevor Donovan as Thor while I’m standing in the room.”

  “Please stop,” Eilish scolded, pointing her fork at her cousin, though I could see she wanted to smile. “What did Trevor ever do to you, huh?”

  “At Aunt Cara’s, he once subjected me to a twenty-minute discussion about Xbox versus PlayStation. That’s quite enough to gain my ire, dearest,” Sean replied.