by Penny Reid
“He works for the games department at Google. It’s his specialty.”
“Taking down two-hundred-pound men with pure brawn is my specialty, that doesn’t mean I go around tackling people to the ground whenever I feel like it.”
“Not unless they ask nicely,” I put in.
“Well, that goes without saying.” Sean smiled in agreement.
I caught Eilish’s gaze and her blush deepened. Was she thinking about me tackling her? Because that sounded really, really nice as long as it was on a bed and we were both naked. Sign me up.
Yeah, I was hot for her. Holding back wasn’t an option anymore.
“He’s a good guy,” she protested weakly.
“If he’s so nice, why did you break things off?” Sean questioned. I had to say, I was enjoying how he directed the conversation, even if I wasn’t quite sure what he was up to.
Eilish worried her lip and stared down at her food, muttering, “We just didn’t have a spark.”
“Ah yes, the spark, the chemistry, the folie à deux,” Sean crooned. “What a pity.”
Eilish shook her head in exasperation. “Folie à deux means shared psychosis, Sean.”
“And what is love but two people going temporarily insane with need for one another?”
“It’s not the same thing,” Eilish said.
“Is it not? What do you think, Bryan?”
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. Never been in love.”
“You haven’t?” He feigned horror. “Well, that’s a travesty. Isn’t it a travesty, Eilish?”
“Quite,” she replied absentmindedly, studying me now. She seemed surprised to hear I’d never been in love, but it was true. I hadn’t been lucid for much of my adult life, and certainly not enough to fall in love with someone. Not properly.
“Have you ever been in love, cousin?” Sean continued, a shine of mischief in his eyes.
“You already know the answer to that question, cousin,” Eilish bit back. He was obviously getting to her now.
“I, of course, had never known true love until I met Lucy. But my, when she came into my life it was like being swept up into the heart of a tornado. Everything changed,” he finished, scooping up the last of his pasta urbanely. I never knew it was possible to eat urbanely until I’d shared a meal with Sean Cassidy.
“Well, aren’t you one of the lucky ones,” said Eilish with a bit of sass and rose from the table. “If everybody’s finished eating I’m going to start on the dishes.”
Immediately, I stood, too, taking the plates from her. “Let me help.”
“No, that’s quite all right. You’re our guest.”
“And this guest is helping clean up,” I replied, standing firm. When I glanced at Sean, he was swiping his thumb over his chin and smiling happily, his gaze going back and forth between the two of us.
“I insist,” Eilish bit out, tugging the dishes back from me.
“So do I.”
“Oh, let him help. Doing the dishes is a very admirable quality in a gentleman,” said Sean, thoroughly amused.
“Fine. I’ll wash. You dry,” Eilish relented.
“And I’ll take Patrick upstairs to change into his pajamas,” said Sean, sweeping out of the room. A whoosh of air fled my lungs, emotion biting at me. I wished I could get him ready for bed, do all the mundane things I’d missed out on for years.
All that would come in time, I was sure.
But first, I needed to talk to Eilish.
I followed her into the kitchen and we worked silently for a few moments. She didn’t look at me, instead keeping her eyes on the dishes. I enjoyed this, washing dishes in her small kitchen. I was big and she was tall. We filled the space, but it meant we had to be close. It felt just right.
“I really am sorry about Trevor,” I said softly as I used a dish towel to dry the plates.
“It’s fine. I know you were only trying to help . . . in your own way,” she replied, using the back of her hand to swipe some hair out of her face. It fell forward again and she let out a huff of annoyance.
“Here, let me,” I offered, setting the dish towel aside. Her hands were in the suds and she froze when I gently pulled the tie from her hair, gathered its silky masses in my hands, and tied it in a neat ponytail. It was even softer than I imagined, and so thick. I allowed my knuckles to brush against the back of her neck and thought I saw her shiver in response.
“Eilish,” I whispered.
She turned her head a little to glance up at me. “Yes?”
I cleared my throat, unable to hold back what I wanted to say. “You have beautiful hair.”
She stiffened, her blue eyes going wide as saucers. I ran my knuckles over the back of her neck again, and again she shivered. “And the softest skin I’ve ever—”
“Eilish! Where are Patrick’s cowboy pajamas? He’s insisting on wearing them,” came Sean’s voice from beyond the small space, breaking the moment.
She jumped away from me, turning her face to call to her cousin, “They’re in the wash. He’ll have to wear a different pair.”
Her voice was strained. Had she felt that moment we just shared as much as I had? The need to touch her pulled me forward, pumped thick in my veins.
“Eilish—”
“Please be careful with that dish.” Her tone was unsteady, her attention firmly set on the sink. “It’s the only casserole I have and I use it every week.”
Studying her profile, I noticed her cheeks were flushed. If she’d felt it, she clearly didn’t wish to discuss it. Frustration built in my chest, the desire to feel her skin beneath my fingertips became an ache. I’d thought about her skin since laying eyes on her all those weeks ago at William’s party.
And yet . . . maybe this wasn’t the time or the place. I was only starting to get to know Patrick. Everything was still so new.
So I moved back. Knowing I’d overstepped unspoken boundaries, but unable to muster regret. Quietly, I finished drying the dishes.
Sean re-entered the kitchen a few minutes later, giving me a silent nod as if to say, we can go have our talk now.
“Patrick is ready for his story. Bryan and I better be off,” he said, bending to place a kiss atop Eilish’s head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, tomorrow,” she replied, giving her cousin a small smile before her gaze fell on me. “I, uh, suppose I’ll see you Monday, then. I can do some more work on your knee if you’d like.”
There was self-consciousness in her voice, and I knew it had taken courage to make the offer. I jumped on it immediately. “Yes, I’d love that. That’d be great.”
“Good. Well, bye, Bryan.” She nodded, apparently having difficulty meeting my gaze.
I didn’t want to, but I said, “Goodbye, Eilish,” and allowed Sean to lead me out of her apartment. I couldn’t fight the sense that I was forgetting something, leaving something critical behind.
Once we were out of the building Sean asked, “So, your place or mine?”
“Does it matter? We live in the same building.”
“Right. I keep forgetting. Then I remember you in your grandad PJs and it all comes rolling back. You’ll have to tell me where you acquire such fine bedwear, by the way.”
I shot him a funny look. Sometimes with Sean you couldn’t tell if he was serious or taking the piss.
Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in my kitchen, two untouched bottles of water in front of us. Will was in his room, reading some puritanical tale of history most likely.
“So, Bryan, you wanted to talk,” Sean began, arching a brow and clasping his hands together.
I rested my palms on the armchair. I was pissed with him, but at the same time I wasn’t. I couldn’t explain it. Perhaps my happiness at having met Patrick was overriding my anger at having his existence kept from me.
“Did you know I was Patrick’s father all along?” I asked.
Sean casually lifted a shoulder. “Not at first, no.”
My jaw firmed at hearing
this. “When then?”
“About two years ago, the likeness became more evident, but I put it down to coincidence. After all, my twenty-five-year-old teammate wouldn’t dream of taking advantage of my innocent nineteen-year-old cousin, now would he?” There was a bite behind his words, even though they were spoken calmly, and a rush of guilt and shame flooded back. I had no right to be angry at him. I’d been a piece of shit. I deserved not to know.
I hung my head, running a hand down my face. “I was a different person then.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that.”
“I’d never hurt her now, or Patrick.”
“That, too, I’m aware of.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me sooner? I’ve been sober for almost two years.”
“Two very tentative years.” He gave me an arch glance. “Believe it or not, I do actually like you, Bryan. I knew laying your son on you while you were still recovering was a bad idea. That and it wasn’t my place to tell you. It was hers.”
Well, he had me there.
“And my duty to Eilish far outweighs my duty to you. If she wanted to keep Patrick from you forever, I would have accepted her wishes. I might not have liked them, but I’d have accepted them nonetheless.”
I blew out a breath. “Right.”
“So, are we good?”
I hesitated a moment. “Yes . . . well, no. I mean, we’re good, of course we are, but I still want to know how it all came about—”
“Isn’t that self-explanatory?” Sean interrupted with a quizzical brow.
“Not that, fuckwit. I want to know how things have been for her. How your family reacted when they found out.”
“They didn’t react well at all. Eilish was in college when she discovered she was pregnant. Panicking, she came home to tell my aunt, naïvely thinking she might be inclined to help. She was not. Aunt Cara wanted Eilish to terminate the pregnancy. When Eilish refused, Cara arranged for an adoption. When Eilish couldn’t go through with it, her mother threw her out of the house.”
Something primitive within me inwardly raged at this news. I had to force calm into my voice as I asked, “Where did she go?”
“She went to the States, nine months pregnant. She wasn’t supposed to fly, but she was too bloody stubborn to take my help. So she used her savings to cover the first six months, then worked three jobs afterward to pay for school and childcare.”
I glared at him. “You let her work three jobs?”
“Eilish doesn’t allow people to let her do anything. But, no. I was unaware that she was working for quite some time. I’d been sending her money. She wouldn’t spend it, never cashed the checks. In the end, I had to accept her wishes, but I found ways around it. Buying her gifts in the form of food and clothing, things for the baby helped.”
“When did she come back to Ireland?”
“A few months ago. Last year, in her last semester before graduation, she became very ill and lost two of her positions. Left with no other options, she reached out to me and finally asked for help. Truly, she had pneumonia and was basically on death’s door.” Sean ground his teeth as though the memory still plagued him. “I told her I would only help if she stopped working, allowed me to cover her expenses until she finished school and for the next twelve months, and moved back to Ireland once she graduated. She had no choice but to accept my terms.”
“I’m going to repay you every penny,” I cut in, but Sean swiped a hand through the air.
“Not necessary. Be there for them now, that’s all I ask.”
“Sean, I’m paying you back,” I grunted.
“Well, I won’t accept.”
“You will.”
“I will not.”
“God, you’re obstinate.”
“And you need to get off your cross. The situation is what it is and you need to set aside your guilt. Though she might be loath to admit it, Eilish is lonely. Her life revolves around that little boy, and although that is a very admirable quality in a mother, it’s no way to live a life. I think you can help her start living again.” A pause as he eyed me. “Perhaps you can help each other.”
I knew he was referring to my newfound “boring” lifestyle. The thing was, it wasn’t boring to me. I loved the predictability of it. I’d lived with the opposite for so long, and it was a welcome change. I had to admit though, his support surprised me.
I stared at him curiously. “Are you saying you approve of me, Cassidy?”
He huffed a breath, his expression deadly serious. “I’m saying I recognize the look in your eye when you’re around Eilish. It’s how I’d like to think I look at Lucy, full of adoration and awe. As long as you keep looking at her that way, we won’t have a problem. And, to be quite blunt, you could use some happiness. You’ve become as palatable as those prunes in your fridge in recent months and I don’t think it’s the lack of alcohol prematurely turning you into a joyless old codger. So yes, I approve of it wholeheartedly. In fact, seduce her again.”
I coughed, choking on nothing, and sputtered, “What? What did you say?”
“I said seduce her. And do it soon. She has more unresolved feelings for you than Perrie Edwards has for Zayn Malik.”
I stared at him for several seconds, dumbfounded. “Who?”
He threw his hands up in the air. “See. This is half the problem. I should’ve used Jen and Brad as an example instead. You’re completely out of touch, Bryan. Can you even remember how to seduce a woman?”
“Of course I can remember.”
One eyebrow rose slowly.
“I’m more than capable,” I insisted.
The eyebrow rose even higher.
“Hey!”
“I’m only trying to help. Maybe look up some moves or watch some videos, do whatever it takes to make sure you’re not rusty and she enjoys herself.”
Now I was offended. “Seriously, fuck you, Sean. Of course she’ll enjoy herself. She’ll like it so much she’ll beg me for—”
“Hey.” My teammate narrowed his eyes, cutting his hand through the air. “I don’t need or want to know the specifics. I’m just saying, take good care of her. She gives and gives and gives. It’s time she received, Leech. I want her to receive and be cared for. And don’t be selfish.”
“I won’t be.” I shook my head with the denial, staring at Sean.
Staring at him because . . .
Did he just tell me to seduce his cousin?
No. He’d just ordered me to do it. And then he’d ordered me to make sure she got off.
Well, hell.
I couldn’t believe what had just happened.
Wonders really do never cease.
15
@ECassChoosesPikachu: When you want something but you know you can’t have it because it’ll give you heart disease. And maybe cancer.
@SeanCassinova to @ECassChoosesPikachu: Terribly melodramatic, aren’t we?
@ECassChoosesPikachu to @SeanCassinova: I meant figurative cancer, of my soul.
@SeanCassinova to @ECassChoosesPikachu: I stand by my previous tweet.
*Eilish*
Maybe it was the full moon. Maybe someone had put chatty potion in the water cooler. Or maybe it was the fact that the first game of the pre-season was quickly approaching. Whatever the reason, everyone had been much more talkative than usual.
Jogging down the stairs, I glanced at my watch and groaned. It was well past seven p.m. and I was now running horribly late for my last appointment of the day. Sean had left at five to pick up Patrick from school, thank goodness. But I felt terrible about my tardiness since my last appointment was with William Moore, who was still the nicest, most polite person on the face of the earth.
Out of breath, I burst through the locker room door, scanning the mostly empty space for the hulking flanker. My hand came to my forehead and I wiped perspiration away.
“Who’re you looking for, love?”
I glanced to the side, finding Ronan Fitzpatrick pulling a bag onto his shoulder.
/> “Uh, William. Have you seen him?”
He shook his head and his brown eyes seemed to sparkle with some mischief. “Not recently. But he was looking for you earlier.”
I groaned again. “I’m so late. We were supposed to meet at five thirty, but Daly—”
“That Daly’s a talker, hopefully he kept his conversation polite.” Ronan lifted his eyebrows questioningly.
Since Ronan’s sister, Lucy, and Sean had become an item, I’d grown to know Ronan and his wife, Annie, fairly well. He’d put in a good word for me when I applied for my position. We weren’t friends, per se, but I felt I knew him. At least, I knew him better than the other lads on the team.
“It’s not really Daly’s fault I’m late. I’ve been running late all day,” I said mournfully. “Damn it. I really wanted to check on William’s hamstring. He’s been doing so well.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, just have him paged.”
I studied the stocky captain, my hands on my hips, my mouth twisted to the side. “Do you think he’s still around?”
“Like I said,” a slow, meaningful grin spread over Ronan’s mouth, making him look like he knew a secret, “Will has been waiting for you.”
With one more pointed look, which I could not interpret, Ronan walked toward the door, saying as he passed, “Stay right here, I’ll have him paged for you.”
“Thank you.” I turned to watch him go, giving him a grateful smile.
“Not a problem, kiddo.” He winked at me in a way that felt remarkably brotherly, then disappeared out the door, leaving me in the empty locker room.
Shaking out my limbs, then rubbing my stiff neck, I eyed the benches. Quickly crossing to the nearest one, I sat with a sigh and continued kneading the space between my shoulder blades. My feet hurt. I’d been standing—or jogging—all day and had been fantasizing about my tiny bathtub since lunch.
Granted, my tiny bathtub wasn’t really tiny. It was just tiny to me, since I was Amazonian by most standards.
“Eilish.”