The Cad and the Co-Ed

by Penny Reid

  “You can convince her. You’ve just decided not to.”

  “Maybe I’m not sure you deserve a second chance,” he bit out. “You went behind her back and started working on a custody case—”

  “I didn’t! This is why she needs to hear me out. I called my dad to ask if he could recommend a decent family law firm, and he decided to fast-track the process without consulting me first. I had no idea my solicitor had called Eilish until right before she came barreling into the locker rooms, all guns blazing.”

  Even in his struggle, Sean managed to arch a quizzical eyebrow. “That was your father’s doing?”

  “Yes!” I bit out.

  “Well, that changes everything.”

  “Oh, it does, does it? It’s not like I’ve been trying to explain this to Eilish since Tuesday. She won’t answer any of my calls, and she’s never home.”

  “I put her up in a hotel for the week, you pig-headed arse, and she blocked your number.”

  I blinked at him, at this information, thinking and saying in unison, “She’s fucking crazy.”

  “No. She’s heartbroken.”

  “She’s being irrational, stubborn.”

  “Maybe.” Sean laughed, shaking his head. “She loves you.”

  My heart stopped, and I asked before I could catch myself, “She said that?”

  Sean smirked. “She’s not talking at all. I caught her staring at a picture of you two on her phone.”

  “So?”

  “For a half hour. Just . . . staring.”

  Staring.

  Fuck. Just thinking of that made my heart burn like crazy. I needed to see her.

  “Parents can be meddlesome creatures,” Sean went on thoughtfully. “Especially when it comes to relationships.”

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. Mine had unintentionally poured gasoline all over my life and set it alight.

  I loosened my hold on Sean, and we finally broke apart.

  “It’s about time,” Ronan called out. “I thought we were gonna have to book you two a room.”

  “Shut your trap, Fitzpatrick,” Sean called back as we both endeavored to catch our breaths.

  “So, will you explain what happened to Eilish?” I asked, eyeing him hopefully.

  He ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. “Little problem with that. She’s officially banned all talk of you. If I bring up your name, I get the icy stare of death.”

  “She’s about half your size, Cassidy. I’m sure you can handle a few mean looks.”

  At this he chuckled. “You obviously haven’t experienced the ire of the Cassidy women. Actually, strike that, you are experiencing it, you just haven’t had the pleasure of going through it up close.”

  “And I never will if you don’t help me.”

  He gave me a sidelong look, wiping his brow.

  “Come on, Sean, you know I deserve a chance to explain myself.”

  He glanced over my shoulder. “It would be a travesty if you lived the rest of your life without a good tongue lashing from a Cassidy woman,” he said with a glint in his eye before he realized the innuendo.

  I shot him a look. “Wrong choice of words, my friend. But since I need your help, I’ll let that one slide.”

  He studied me a moment. “Fine, I’ll help you.”

  I came forward and gripped him by the shoulders. “Thank you. Seriously, you’re my last hope.”

  “Yeah, yeah, just remember you owe me a new pair of cufflinks for my birthday. Take Eilish with you, she has impeccable taste.”

  “Noted.”

  He started to walk away and was halfway across the pitch when I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted, “And don’t you worry. If all goes to plan there’ll be plenty of tongue lashings from a Cassidy woman in my future.”

  He didn’t turn around. However, his hand did shoot up into the air as he flipped me off.

  I smiled, feeling hopeful for the first time in days.

  * * *

  “What? How . . . how can she do that?”

  My solicitor cleared her throat and glanced at her notes again. “I can try and push for it, but it seems she’s quite set in her decision.”

  “No. No way.” I shook my head vehemently. “She can’t do that. It’s my right as Patrick’s father to provide for him.”

  “Ms. Cassidy is under no legal obligation to accept your financial support.” Mrs. Feelan’s words and expression were apologetic but also matter-of-fact.

  I huffed out an irritable breath and clasped my hands together, glancing briefly at the clock on the wall. Eilish and her solicitor were due any minute. We were waiting for them to arrive so that we could discuss the custody agreement and put an end to this absolute clusterfuck of a situation.

  I was just about ready to pull my hair out with the ridiculousness of it all.

  One conversation and I could fix everything. But she wouldn’t talk to me.

  She is so fucking stubborn.

  The door opened and I sat up straight. Three people walked into the room. Eilish, Sean, and her solicitor, but I only had eyes for Eilish. She wore a navy pencil skirt, a cream blouse, and a long gray coat. Her hair fell over her shoulders in long waves. She looked beautiful. So beautiful I had to take a moment to catch my breath.

  I stood before I knew what I was doing. “Eilish,” I breathed. Those crystal blue eyes came to me, and I hated the neutrality in them, the careful mask she’d put in place. It reminded me of William’s party all those weeks ago, before she’d come to know the man I am now. Before I’d come to know her. Before I fell in love with the kind, generous, and warm woman I knew she was.

  “Mr. Leech, please sit down,” Mrs. Feelan urged, a note of caution in her voice, like I might cause a scene or something.

  I grimaced and sat while the three newcomers took their seats on the opposite side of the table. Eilish’s solicitor started to speak, but I barely heard a word he said. My focus was too fixed on the stunning redhead sitting across from me. I stared at her until she sensed my attention, and her gaze flicked momentarily to mine. A touch of crimson colored her cheeks, and she glanced away again.

  Look at me. Please.

  I was also irritated that she felt the need to bring Sean along, like she needed protection from me. I’d never hurt her, not in a million years. A flash of memory hit me, of how she’d looked when she confronted me in the lockers, the hurt so palpable I could almost touch it. She thought I’d committed the ultimate betrayal, so maybe in a small way I could understand why she brought him.

  Still, I eyed my teammate in annoyance. Judging from Eilish’s refusal to look at me, it didn’t appear he’d made any headway in explaining things to her, even though he said he’d try. Though funnily enough, when I looked at him he smirked.

  Huh.

  “Sign here, please, Mr. Leech,” Mrs. Feelan instructed after a few minutes of back and forth. The custody agreement was in front of me. I picked up the pen, then hesitated. I put the pen down and looked across the table at Eilish again. Not at Sean. Not at the solicitor. Just at her.

  “I want you to reconsider the support payments. If you won’t accept all of it, then at least think about taking half.”

  Eilish didn’t breathe a word, only shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  “Ms. Cassidy does not wish to receive any child support payments, Mr. Leech,” her solicitor cut in. “We already informed Mrs. Feelan of this before the final agreement was drawn up.”

  “Well, nobody informed me.” I crossed my arms over my chest, her stubbornness rubbing off on me.

  “I informed you earlier, Mr. Leech. Remember? I would’ve done so sooner but it was all very last minute,” said Mrs. Feelan. “We did what we could in the time provided.”

  “But why?” I asked, still only addressing Eilish. “You can talk to me, you know. I’m sitting right here.”

  “Mr. Leech—” Mrs. Feelan cut in, but then Eilish spoke, her voice calm and measured. It was only the slight catch when she sa
id my name that alerted me to her nervousness.

  “It’s too much, B-Bryan.”

  “It’s not too much, nothing is ever too much when it comes to Patrick, or you for that matter,” I said with passion as my eyes bore into hers. “You can’t give this to me? You keep him from me for years and you won’t let me support him now?”

  I hit a nerve. I could see it in how she glanced at the table and worried her lip, her eyes stormy and uncertain.

  “Mrs. Feelan, can you please control your client,” Eilish’s solicitor requested.

  Mrs. Feelan placed a hand at my elbow. “Mr. Leech, please.”

  “I’ll agree to support payments,” Eilish blurted, surprising everyone in the room. “But they need to be a smaller sum. Much smaller.”

  I exhaled and shot her a grateful look. “I can work with that.” If I had my way, the amount wouldn’t matter in any case.

  “Given this information,” Mrs. Feelan stacked her papers, “we’ll need to draw up a new agreement and schedule a further meeting.”

  “Very well,” said Eilish’s solicitor. “I’ll talk through the options with my client and get back to you in due course.”

  Everybody started getting up to leave. Both solicitors hung back to discuss something while Eilish and Sean approached the door. They were already gone before I realized this might be my only chance to talk to Eilish in person. Jumping into action, I chased after them to the bank of lifts. Sean pressed the button to go down as I caught up to them.

  “Talk to me. Give me ten minutes.”

  She turned to look at me, a galaxy of emotion in her eyes. “There’s nothing—”

  “Please,” I urged, almost begging.

  The lift doors slid open and she stepped inside. I followed suit, while Sean hung back. “Actually, I need to use the bathroom. I’ll meet you in the lobby, Eilish,” he said just as the doors closed.

  “Sean!” she yelled, but he was already gone.

  If looks could kill, Cassidy would be six feet under. Eilish glared at the smooth, polished metal with absolute murder in her eyes.

  I, on the other hand, could’ve fucking kissed her cousin. With tongue.

  The lift started to descend, and Eilish blew out a heavy breath. Her arms were folded over her chest, and she stared dead ahead, totally on the defensive.

  “Eilish, will you please just look at me? This is all so messed up, and you’re not even giving me the chance to explain.”

  “What on earth is there to explain? You don’t trust me. There’s nothing to talk about.”

  I stared at her profile, so entirely closed off, and an unexpected surge of anger flared in my chest.

  “I don’t trust you? Really? That’s how you’re justifying all this?”

  “All what?” she bit out, still not looking at me.

  Before I could respond the lift shuddered to a halt.

  “Oh my God, are we stuck?” Eilish exclaimed in horror.

  Usually, such an incident would bother me, but not today. Today the gods seemed to be smiling upon me, because getting stuck with Eilish was exactly what I needed, what we needed. I remembered the knowing look Sean gave me right before we got on and suspected this was his doing. I definitely wouldn’t put it past him. After all, he had said he’d try to help me.

  I blew out a breath. “Looks like it.”

  She tugged nervously at her collar. “Wonderful.”

  I turned to stare her down. “Yeah, wonderful. Because now you might have to admit you’re just as much to blame for this clusterfuck as I am.”

  She spun, disbelief and rage twisting her features.

  Both intensified as I added, “Maybe even more so.”

  “How am I to carry the blame for any of this?” She gestured around us widely. “I gave you his hair for the test weeks ago. I encouraged you to get a lawyer from the very beginning. And you said no. No, we could work it out between us. I trusted you.”

  Ignoring the hurt and betrayal saturating her words and piercing me from her eyes, I pressed forward. “That’s a lie. You never trusted me. Never. You were determined to think the worst of me. I told you I love you—and I do, God help me, I’m so fucking in love with you—and you pushed me away. We make love in the physio room—”

  She scoffed, laughing derisively. “Oh? Was that what we were doing?”

  “Yes,” I answered immediately, desperately. “At least, that’s what I was doing for the last few weeks. I can’t keep my hands to myself, and every time I steal a kiss, it’s because I’m so bloody in love with you I can’t think straight.”

  “That’s not love, Bryan. That’s infatuation. That’s lust.”

  “No. It’s a symptom of being over the moon gone for another person and wanting them to be happy, wanting to be the one to make them happy.”

  She stared at me, her face no longer a mask of dispassion. Her features were a mess of conflicting emotions—raw pain warred with hope and despair. She inhaled an unsteady breath, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

  “I love you,” she said on a tortured exhale. “I love you.”

  She loves me?

  “Eilish . . .” I wanted to touch her, but she had her arms wrapped around her torso as though holding herself together.

  “And you’re right, I pushed you away. I closed myself off. I thought, if we removed physical intimacy from the equation, I would be able to see clearly. I would be able to trust that what we had between us was real.”

  I stepped forward, intent on reaching for her, but she flinched. “No. Don’t . . .” She shook her head, her words trailed off, and her lip quivered. Jesus. I hated seeing her upset like this, but at same time I just wanted to shake some sense into her.

  She took another visible breath, her gaze lowering to the floor. “I’m sorry for pushing you away. I was wrong, but, Bryan,” she shook her head, “what you did was wrong, too. You could have come to me if you wanted the test, the formal agreement. Going behind my back—”

  “I called my father on Monday. I had no idea he’d fast-tracked the process. He arranged everything without consulting me. I planned to take you out to lunch Wednesday so we could talk about it. That’s not an excuse, but it is the truth.”

  “Why?” Her voice cracked on the word, and she still wouldn’t give me her eyes. “Why did you want the test? Did you think I lied to you?”

  “No. God, no.” I balled my hands into fists, frustration eating me from the inside. “This whole situation is a fuck-up,” I breathed.

  She lifted her gaze to mine, her blue eyes wide, sad. She didn’t disagree.

  I sighed heavily and continued speaking. “Last week, after I left your house, I got a call from your mother.”

  Her eyebrows jumped, her eyes flashed with anger. “My mother?”

  I nodded. “She wanted to know what I was going to do about Patrick. Basically, she was pushing me to propose to you.”

  “Bryan, oh my God,” she exclaimed, her hand going to her mouth in shock. “You have to believe I would never—”

  “Yes. I know that now, but my head was all over the place at the time. I had your mother calling me, and my sponsor was breathing down my neck. You remember the woman you met at the hospital?” She bobbed her head. “That’s Sarah. She’s been so great in helping me stay sober, but when she found out about you and Patrick, she was adamant I get a paternity test. I’ve had a lot of bad luck with girlfriends in the past, you see, women—addicts—who encouraged my addiction to feed their own. She was worried about me, that you were after money.”

  She let out a joyless laugh. “I don’t and never have wanted your money.”

  “I know. But you’re the first person I’ve been with since I’ve been sober and I couldn’t help doubting myself, wondering if I could trust my own judgment. That’s on me. I’m still learning how to live life sober. But when you pushed me away . . .”

  Eilish studied me, her face understanding but wary.

  Both of us went quiet then, silence filling the
confines of the lift. I tried to think of the best way to proceed. In the end I decided a truce was needed. Casting her a tender glance, I said, “Thank you for changing your mind about the child support. I know it might not seem like such a big thing, but it’s important to me to be able to contribute.”

  Some of the anguish left her face as she dropped her arms to her sides. “I wouldn’t have declined if you’d been more reasonable. Thirty thousand a month is ridiculous.”

  I ran a hand over my face. “I don’t agree. I’ve contributed nothing for five years. And you live in a very upscale neighborhood, Eilish. It can’t be cheap, especially not in today’s market.”

  “It isn’t,” she allowed, her mouth tugging to the side ruefully. “And, honestly, I do need the money. Sean made me promise to accept his help financially for twelve months, and that was eight months ago. He’s been paying the rent.”

  “Then why couldn’t you—?”

  “Because, don’t you see? I feel guilty about what happened between us. I was sober, you were drunk. Patrick is my responsibility. I hate taking money from Sean, but I can’t ask you—”

  “No.” I shook my head. “No, no, no. You’re not asking me, I’m insisting. He’s ours. He’s my responsibility and yours. You have to start thinking of him in this way.”

  She nodded again, and it was clear she was fighting back tears. “I’m so sorry.”

  Seeing my window of opportunity, I closed the rest of the distance between us. When my chest met hers, a tension I hadn’t even realized released from deep in my bones. It had only been a few days, but I’d missed her so bloody much. Being close to her now was an odd but welcome relief.

  “So, can we start over?” I asked, my voice a gentle caress.

  “Yes, of course, but—”

  Before she could finish the sentence, I kissed her, my relief propelling me forward. She gasped into my mouth. I lost myself a little in how soft her lips were. I pressed my entire body to hers, like I couldn’t get enough. I pressed so close I could feel her heartbeat pounding against my chest.

  I teased her mouth into opening for me, and after only a second’s hesitation she let me in. I slid my tongue along hers, tasted her with every fiber of my being. She arched her back, and I felt her breasts push into me. My cock stirred instantly. I lifted my hand and took hold of her neck, brushing my thumb back and forth over the hollow of her throat. A strangled moan escaped her. I groaned and kissed her deeper, wishing I could be inside her.