Last Call

by Kelly, A. S.

  “You wanted a wild night.” His voice from the doorway makes me jump.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Those marks,” he says, nodding towards my body, before looking down at his chest and smiling. I glance at him; and I notice that, alongside his abs (which I’m scared I may have licked), and the deep V that disappears into the waistband of his jeans (which I think I also licked), he is peppered in bruises, too.

  “Please, don’t tell me you don’t remember anything.”

  It would probably have been better if I didn’t remember anything, but no; the images of last night are inked indelibly onto my memory.

  “I’m just a little confused. I’m not used to drinking so much – but I do remember. I think.”

  “Maybe coffee will help.”

  “Hopefully.”

  “I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”

  He walks away, as I turn back towards the mirror and try to clean myself up a little. I wash my face, brush my teeth and attempt to drag a brush through my hair. I go back into the bedroom and yank open the drawers, grabbing a sweatshirt and throwing it on quickly. I pad over to the wardrobe, grab my jogging bottoms and pull them on, before taking a deep breath and going out to join him in the kitchen. A cup of coffee is waiting for me, accompanied by a beaming smile that I don’t think I could ever forget.

  I sit on the stool by the kitchen counter as he stands by the fridge.

  “Milk?” he asks, opening the door.

  I nod, and he grabs the carton, pouring some into my mug until I ask him to stop.

  “I gave her some, too.” He nods towards the little traitor who’s weaving her way around his legs.

  “Caramel,” I say, taking a sip. “Her name is Caramel.”

  I drink my coffee, trying to brush off this awkward morning-after silence – something else I’m not used to – but he doesn’t seem embarrassed at all. He seems perfectly comfortable in his role as the one-night-stand, who can’t wait to disappear the next day.

  “Listen.” His smile grows less charming, his expression morphing into something serious. I don’t like it.

  “You don’t need to say anything.” I meet him halfway – not to help him, just to be clear. But I owe it to my pride. “It was just one night.”

  He nods slowly, scrutinising me.

  “I wasn’t looking for anything. I just wanted some fun. And that’s exactly what we had.”

  And no, Niall Kerry. I won’t just be another notch on your bedpost – even though I technically carved out that notch myself by jumping into bed with him – but I won’t give you anything else. I’m a grown woman who hadn’t had sex for a year. I just wanted one night with a man.

  End of story.

  “Okay,” he smiles – but it’s not the same as before.

  “Honestly, you don’t owe me anything. You didn’t even have to stay the night.”

  Am I pushing this too far? I wouldn’t have liked to wake up and find that he’d disappeared during the night; but I’m committed to the role now. I have to keep it up.

  “I’m a gentleman.”

  I have some serious doubts about that, but I’ll let him believe whatever he wants.

  “Well, seeing as we have nothing else to say to each other…” He turns and places his mug in the sink. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”

  “I guess it is.”

  “I’ll go and get my things.”

  “I think they’re all in my bedroom – or maybe I saw some in the hallway…” I say casually, ignoring the fact that my cheeks are burning up.

  He starts to walk off, followed by Caramel; but before he leaves the room, he turns. “Last night was…” He sighs, and I lift my gaze to look at him. “You were…” He’s really having trouble now. “I’m sorry about all those,” he says, gesturing towards my love bites.

  I instinctively touch my neck, where I saw the first mark.

  “I’m sorry, too,” I say, nodding towards his own collection of bruises and scratches.

  “I’ll think of them as war wounds.”

  “War?” I ask, amused. “Aren’t we exaggerating a little?”

  He smiles again, that confidence oozing back into his expression – along with something else.

  “Are you sure you remember what happened?”

  “Of course,” I say nonchalantly, turning back towards my coffee.

  “If you say so…cowgirl.”

  I almost drop the mug to the floor.

  “I want to ride you,” I whisper into his ear. “I want to tame my wild beast.”

  His hands grab hold of my butt cheeks.

  “I’m all yours, cowgirl. You can tie me up, if you want to.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” Adrenaline courses through my veins.

  “You can do whatever you want to me.”

  The door slams shut, shaking me from my thoughts and dropping me firmly in the present, back to this morning. I’m in my kitchen, filling my mind with memories from the night before.

  I really rode Niall Kerry; and I think I tied him up with something, too. And I’m terrified that I liked it.

  A little.

  Okay, a lot.

  And I’m pretty sure he liked it, too.

  Niall

  I head down the stairs and open the door leading out onto the street. As soon as my feet hit the pavement, I look around, trying to work out how to get home. I can’t even see a taxi rank. We’re definitely not in Dublin anymore: there, you can find one waiting on every corner, if you can’t find any other public transport. But here, I definitely won’t find anything to take me out of the centre and towards the countryside, where my parents live.

  I stick my hand into my pocket and pull out the receipt with my number scribbled on the back. I meant to leave it at her place, but instead, I crumple it up, walking towards the town centre. Maybe there I’ll be able to find a taxi to take me home. I throw the paper into the first bin I come across.

  I don’t know why I wanted to leave her my number. We always said it would only be one night – nothing more, especially given my currently family situation – but we had fun. We were good together. And she was everything I never expected; it turned me completely upside-down, not only because she’s been the only one to get me hard.

  Yeah, I know. My magic wand had stopped rising to the challenge. There was no sign of life.

  It was dead. Useless. Non-existent.

  And it had been like that for almost nine months.

  But she brushed lightly against me, and that was all it took: my breath on her neck, her arse against my crotch. It brought me back from the dead, reminding me that there was something still down there.

  She brought it back to life.

  I scoff, trying to shake off the thought of her sitting on top of me, moving sensually on my dick. I try to think of something to say once I get back home.

  I didn’t think I’d be out all night, and I didn’t want to stay over at hers; but her hot body was pressed against mine, her hair fanned out across my chest, her soft breasts pushing against my pecs… Well, it wasn’t easy to leave all that behind and go crawling back home in the middle of the night – back to my single bed, in my childhood bedroom, in my parents’ house.

  My first night here, and I went out without coming home. I left my daughter alone with her grandparents and behaved in exactly the same way I’d always behaved. But fuck, I’m a single parent now: I have a troublesome, eternally-pissed-off teenage daughter who hates me, and I need to control myself. I need to tread a different path, give her a good life, a family. She needs to take up all my attention.

  I cross the main square and head quickly over to a taxi parked on the corner of the street. I open the door and slip inside, giving the driver my address. He flicks on the meter and pulls out into the road which leads out of town. He glances at me a couple of times in the rear-view mirror, then clears his throat.

  “Back to our roots, are we?” he asks, a hint of sarcasm disguised in his t
one. I’m getting really bored of it, now.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, mate.”

  “Mmm…a bastard, as always,” he says through gritted teeth. I straighten up suddenly in the back seat.

  “What did you say?”

  “I said it’s cold, as always…” he gestures vaguely out of the window. “It’s only September and it almost feels like Christmas.”

  I shake my head anxiously and fix my gaze onto the passing scenery, pretending I didn’t hear him.

  I have no intention of getting into an argument with a taxi driver on my first morning back in town; mainly because he probably has a pretty good reason for being pissed off with me, whatever that reason may be.

  Within ten minutes, we’re in front of my parents’ house. I pass him some cash and get out of the car, watching as he does a U-turn and goes back the way we came. I pull out my keys and unlock the gate, making my way towards the front door. I walk slowly, my head hanging low, and see my father appear from the back garden, waving at me. I walk over to him, my gait and my expression dripping with guilt as I stop in front of him.

  “You’re lucky that Skylar’s not up yet.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to stay out so late.”

  “You didn’t come back at all, Niall.”

  “It won’t happen again.”

  “I honestly couldn’t care less – but you have a daughter who has no one but you to look up to.”

  I drop my head back into my shoulders and prepare myself for an earful.

  “You’ve literally just got here, for God’s sake!”

  “You’re right.”

  “Your mother is furious.”

  “I can imagine.”

  My father sighs, shaking his head. “Go inside and get changed. I need a hand out here.”

  “A hand? Doing what?”

  “The mower won’t start.”

  “And you want me to fix it?”

  “I just need someone to pass me my tools. I can fix my own damn mower. Just like I always have.”

  It’s a stinging insult that I choose to ignore.

  “It’s Saturday. No one works here on Saturdays. I’m on my own, and I need a hand.”

  “Sure, give me two minutes.”

  “And watch out for your mother. She’s wandering around somewhere.”

  “Got it.”

  I give him a small nod of thanks and head quickly towards the back door. I open it slowly, trying not to make a noise, and slip inside: there’s no sign of my mum. I close it quietly behind me and tiptoe towards the kitchen. But when I turn the corner, I find my daughter sitting on a stool at the island.

  “Oh, there you are,” I say awkwardly.

  “Here I am. I was here last night, too. How about you?”

  “M-me? I was here, too. What kind of question is that?”

  Skylar crosses her arms and glares at me.

  “Listen, Skylar, I’m sorry, okay? It won’t happen again.”

  “I don’t care what you do.” She turns her head away, trying to ignore me.

  “I shouldn’t have gone out on our first evening here, and I shouldn’t have stayed out all night, either.”

  She shrugs indifferently.

  “We came here to try, right?”

  “To try what?”

  “To try and be a family.”

  “Interesting that you’re talking about family, Kerry, seeing as I had no idea where you were for the past ten years of my life.”

  “I was here. Not here-here, but I was around, and…”

  “No, you weren’t.”

  I exhale deeply.

  “I barely even know you.”

  “And we’re here to fix that.”

  “In the middle of nowhere in a backwards little county?”

  “It’s not easy to find somewhere that’ll accept us, given your track record.”

  She rolls her eyes.

  “Just give it a chance, okay? And give your grandparents a chance, too.”

  “They’re alright.”

  “Thank god. That’s good news.”

  She gets up from the stool and lifts her chin towards me in challenge.

  “You’re the problem. You’re the one who’s not alright.”

  “Can’t we try and move past this?” I try to step closer to her.

  “You’re fifteen years too late, Kerry.”

  She only uses my surname when she wants to highlight just how much she hates me: so, basically, every other word.

  “I’m going to go and get dressed. Grandma’s waiting for me so we can go to the market.”

  “The market? You’re going to the market?”

  “It’s better than putting those things on,” she says, pointing towards the rubber boots sitting by the back door, “and going out into some field to feed the cows.”

  “Sheep. You’d be feeding the sheep.”

  “This place is shit,” she grumbles through her teeth, before disappearing into the living room and then upstairs.

  “Well done.” My mother’s voice floats into the room as soon as I’m alone.

  “You were here the whole time, weren’t you?” I turn towards her; she’s standing with her hands planted on her hips.

  “Yes, I was. How about you?”

  A whole different question, but fine.

  “I’m sorry. I never meant to spend the whole night away on our first evening here.”

  How many times do I have to repeat that?

  “I don’t care about where you are and who you’re with, but Jesus, Niall! You only got here yesterday!”

  “It just happened.”

  “I don’t want to know. I’m your mother, and I’m not supposed to know about certain things – even though the newspapers have been reporting it for years.”

  “You’re the third person to say something like that in the past few hours. Not everything in those fucking articles is true.”

  “Well, if those stories made it all the way here, and even I managed to read them…” She looks around, before lowering her voice. “You can bet that she’s read them, too.” She gestures above her, upstairs.

  “I don’t… I’d never thought about that.”

  “It’s time to start thinking about the consequences of your actions, Niall. You’re not a little kid anymore, and you’re not on your own. You have a teenager who’s counting on you.”

  “You’re right, Mum. I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful from now on.”

  Mum sighs heavily.

  “I’ll do better. I promise.”

  “You don’t need to promise anything, honey,” she says, her tone softening. “Not to me, at least.”

  She steps towards me and plants a kiss on my cheek, before disappearing into the kitchen and leaving me alone with my thoughts, and the weight of all the terrible choices I appear to keep making.

  Niall

  “So you just left?”

  “What else was I supposed to do?”

  “Maybe have breakfast together, talk a little, ask her out?”

  Tyler puts down the hose and goes to turn off the water.

  I’ve come to see him at the fire station where he works, a few miles from the town centre. I didn’t know what else to do just to get out of the house, and I didn’t have anyone else to call. Luckily, it’s a quiet day, and I found him outside, washing the fire engines.

  “That’s not how it works.”

  “Maybe not in big cities, or for you celebrities.”

  “Stop that. I’m not famous – apparently I’m only famous here, and I have no idea why.”

  “So you’re telling me that this is just what you do with women?”

  “I don’t see a ring on your finger.”

  “What have I got to do with it? We’re talking about you.”

  “We’re always talking about me. This isn’t a one-way street, you know.”

  “That’s because my life is simple, Niall. And you know why?”

  I nod at him t
o continue.

  “Because I don’t overcomplicate things.”

  “Do you want a medal?”

  “I’ll remind you that you were the one who came here and brought this up. I’m just trying to help you out.”

  “Doesn’t look like it,” I huff, frustrated. “Anyway, she made herself perfectly clear.”

  “She just wanted one night.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, that’s fine. Right?”

  “Then why did you give me that whole speech?”

  “I thought that you wanted something more – otherwise you wouldn’t have come here to find me and talk about it. Maybe it wasn’t what you were looking for.”

  “I’m not looking for anything. You were the one who dragged me to that pub, and my mum was the one who invited you round. I never planned for any of this.”

  “Not to mention the fact that you never expected to find her in front of you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Come on. We both know full well the effect she has on you.”

  “Had. Past tense.”

  “Not that far in the past, though.”

  “I’m pretty sure she was roaring drunk.”

  “But she still knew what was going on, right?” he asks me, worried.

  “Oh, don’t worry, she definitely knew.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never had a woman try to get rid of me so quickly before. Usually I’m the one trying to leave.”

  “That kills you, doesn’t it? Not being the one to set the rules?”

  “Maybe a little…”

  “You already know what happened. She was drunk, looking for some fun, a distraction – you landed in front of her, and she made the most of it.”

  “I feel so used.”

  “Not easy being on the other side, now, is it?”

  “The other side of what?”

  “You’re usually the one to act like that. How many times has it happened to you?”

  “Not that many. I already told you to stop reading those fucking papers.”

  “The papers don’t have much to do with it. Wasn’t that exactly what you used to do when we were at school, too?”

  “I was young, I liked having fun. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing – just like there’s nothing wrong with the fact that she didn’t even give you her number.”