by A. S. Kelly
I don’t mind that at all. Although, after my brothers painting the bedroom, I’d love to find a way to make it soundproof. I love hearing her yell, instead of holding herself back in case Evan hears us.
“So?” Christine presses.
“I’m not ready.”
“Come on, O’Connor, I’ll hold your hand if you want,” Evan teases.
“I’ll hold the other one,” Christine says.
“Evan, cover your ears.”
“Sure.”
“Will you cuddle me later if I have nightmares?”
“Are you serious, Ryan?” Evan asks.
“Weren’t you supposed to be covering your ears?”
“You’re such a loser.”
“And you’re a little…”
“Okay, guys,” Christine cuts between us. “Ryan, if you don’t want to take this step, then…”
I can’t let them back me into a corner like this. I’m always outnumbered.
These two always push me around so effortlessly.
“To hell with that. Let’s get this marathon going, then.”
Christine claps excitedly, as she bends down in front of the TV to put the DVD into the player.
“Don’t do it,” Evan threatens me. “I know you live here now, but don’t do it. Not in front of me.”
“I wasn’t…”
“Ready?” Christine asks, sitting on my left, with Evan on my right.
“Stop looking at her arse like that. We clear?” he hisses into my ear, making me smile.
I imagine that this is how all of our evenings will go.
Our. Plural. Exactly.
And I don’t even need a paper bag to breathe into.
I’ve only lived with them for a few weeks, but it’s like I’ve been in this house my whole life. How the hell is it possible to feel so at home with two people – two people you’d do anything for – after knowing them for such a short time?
Maybe that’s just what happens when you find your place, your home. She’s my home, and I know that she’ll never shut me out. With Christine, I’m not scared of ending up without a roof over my head. I’m not scared of being left alone with myself, the disaster that I am. Because, let’s not lie: I am a disaster.
I have a shitty personality, I get pissed off too easily, I can be arrogant and a little selfish, I have an overwhelming, suffocating family, and…let’s just say I’m hardly the perfect guy. I’m the total opposite of perfect: but I’m me, and I’m not going to hide it.
I’m just trying to be the best man I can be, and she…
She understands.
With her, I’m myself. Not the guy I was before: that person doesn’t exist anymore. I let him go, along with all that anger and hate. And that was the right thing to do, because now, I’m really starting to like myself.
I’m the man of the house.
And I’m the man that she loves.
Christine takes my hand, Evan squeezes my other, and I find myself plunging into a horror film marathon, scared to death, certain that I’ll have nightmares for a week. I’ll never go back into my parents’ garage with its chainsaw sitting on the shelves. But I’m also certain that my family will take care of me.
Epilogue
Ryan
“Don’t you think this is a bit much?” Christine asks me, looking at the house.
“Nope, it’s all under control.”
“He’s not five years old. He’s seventeen.”
“I wanted to do something nice for him.”
“Ryan, you don’t have to feel bad for missing all his other birthdays, you know. We didn’t even know you.”
“That’s not quite true…”
Christine looks at me, one eyebrow raised.
I take her arm and pull her in to me.
“I wish I’d known you before.”
“How would that have changed anything?”
“I wouldn’t have lost out on all this.”
“But you’re here now.”
“I know, but I wish I could’ve given you everything you never had.”
“We were fine, weirdly, even before you came along.”
“I don’t like that.”
“There’s always a ‘before’, Ryan. What’s important is now.”
“No,” I tell her, squeezing her tightly. “What’s important is tomorrow,” I say, kissing her and feeling her melt into my arms. “I can’t give you everything you never had, just like you can’t give me what they took from me. But I can give you something that’s only yours. I can give you Ryan O’Connor. That’s all I have: and it’s all for you.”
“You could give me that arse of yours,” she says, laughing, before turning serious again. “I already have everything I could ever want. Look around you, Ryan.”
I glance at Christine’s house, where my family is there to celebrate Evan’s birthday. Okay, so he’ll celebrate it properly later with his friends, but he let us do something here too, with the family.
My parents are happier than ever. My dad’s health has been good recently, although he sometimes has his moments. But Mum feels stronger now, thanks to us being around, and thanks to all the people who have come into our family: Riley, Christine, Evan…Fuck, even Martin. I don’t think I’ll ever be free of him, but I’m keeping an eye on him – sooner or later I’ll find a way to get rid of him. Make it look like an accident.
Then there’s Christine’s family. Her mother still looks at me suspiciously: she thinks I’m too young for her daughter, and that a sportsman isn’t the best decision for her. I imagine she’d have preferred a doctor. Just thinking it makes me hate Martin even more.
Okay, so I shouldn’t think about it. I mean, come on. He’s only Evan’s father, and he claims to be gay, until he proves otherwise, but I don’t quite buy it.
I could never have hoped for more than this, even if I’d been looking out for it. But maybe Jamie was right: that kid has always been wise beyond his years.
Maybe that one person really does exist, and you don’t have to look for them. Sometimes they’re just an illusion, sometimes you can reach for them but you can’t grab them. But it only takes one look, one word, one kiss and you’re fucked.
I realised I was fucked even before that kiss. But from then on, Jesus, everything was clear. It was then that I realised I’d never felt like that before, that I could’ve kissed a hundred lips or slept with a hundred women, but none of them would’ve set me alight in that same way: that jolt of electricity that she gives me, even just by holding my hand.
Christine Morgan, the woman I tried to hate from the very first moment. Because I knew that, if I didn’t hate her, I’d be in trouble. And now, I’m in way too deep.
But there’s no disaster more beautiful than this one.
“I hope I don’t get a new little brother for my birthday, because I’m seriously not ready for that,” Evan interrupts my thoughts.
“Don’t bet on it,” I tease him.
“Ryan…”
“What? It’ll happen sooner or later…”
“Not now, and not soon.”
“We’ll see…” I say, winding him up. Although, to be honest, I was being serious.
I wouldn’t mind having a baby around, but Christine insists on taking things slowly. We’ve only been living together for a few weeks, and it would probably be a step too far. But I know that what I want is right in this house.
I’m damaged, and there are lots of things I don’t believe in: and I doubt I’ll believe in them again. I’ll probably never be the man that this incredible woman deserves, but I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere. Because I don’t believe in much: but I do believe in her.
I believe in how I feel. I believe in laughter, in her eyes and her kisses. I believe in her heart, which calls to mine, through our looks, our gestures, our silences. And I want it all, just for me.
I want her and I want to be her man.
Imperfect, but hers.
Chris
; “Here we go, they’re out on the field. Oh my God, I think I might faint.”
“Oh God, oh God, tell me what they look like. Are they excited? Nervous? Does Ian seem calm?”
“They look…hot. Can I say that? You don’t mind, do you?”
Riley bursts out laughing on the other end of the phone.
“Do you guys have to make comments through the whole match?”
I turn towards Nick and smirk.
“Great, I’m the only dickhead out in the bleachers accompanying everyone else’s girlfriends to the game. How did I end up like this?”
“Calm down, mate, I’m here, too,” Evan reassures him.
“So?” Riley pulls my attention back to the game.
I’m sitting in the stadium with Nick and Evan. Riley can’t come to the games anymore – she only has a few weeks left until the baby’s due, and they’ve advised her not to do too much, to stay at home. But she’s not very good at it. So when I come to the stadium, I give her a running commentary of all the matches on the phone, which really pisses Nick off. He’s really had enough of all these women constantly being around.
Riley watches the matches on TV too, but she says that the commentator isn’t enough. She prefers my own commentary.
“Hey, you still there?” she asks me, but I can’t respond: my man has just made his entrance, and I sit back breathlessly in my chair.
His pride, his confident smile, his slick hair. Those muscles, almost tearing through his shorts, and those hands, which, last night, were intent on…
“Ah okay, Ryan’s just come on,” Riley says. “I’ll give you a few minutes to cool off, okay? I’ll call you back after the first whistle.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me, as Evan rips the phone from my hand.
“You two are so embarrassing, you know that? He never stops staring at your arse, and you…no, I don’t even want to know what you’re staring at.”
“Shut up, you’re ruining the moment,” I say to my son, who sits next to me, scoffing.
Ryan raises his arm, waving to the crowd, and his face appears on the big screen. He looks right into the camera and smiles, like only he knows how, showing off his gleaming white teeth. I don’t know how he keeps them so perfect – surely someone would’ve smashed them to pieces by now?
He smiles, biting his lip, and my body goes up in flames, tingling with anticipation for the moment he comes home, ready for one of those red-hot nights that only he can give me.
“Can you just chill?” Nick says. “Everyone knows me here.”
“You’re so boring.”
“Me, boring? No one’s ever said that to me before.”
“Well, maybe that’s why you’re single. Don’t you reckon?”
“I think you and Ryan are a disaster of epic proportions together.”
I laugh, punching him lightly in the arm.
“He’s a bad influence on you. You’re starting to speak like him, act like him – you’re even starting to wind me up just like he does.”
“Do you need someone to stick up for you, Nick? You can ask Evan if you like.”
“Yep. You’re just like him. Same crap jokes that no one finds funny.”
“I find them funny,” Evan chimes in.
“Whose side are you on here?”
Evan shrugs arrogantly.
The starting whistle shuts us up. I turn suddenly to the field, where Ryan is sprinting, throwing himself to the ground, leaping over the opposing team, and sliding across the grass with the ball in his hands. He wipes the sweat from his brow with his shirt, tugs at his shorts, pats his arse and gets back to it.
And I sit there, spellbound, with my heart beating like crazy and my body frozen in place. Because that mountain of muscles, that Greek God, that hard marble sculpture, is mine.
And when he comes home, I’m going to show him just how much he belongs to me, and just how much I love him, with everything that I have.
Ryan O’Connor, you’re the devil disguised as an angel.
But you’re mine.
My number three.
My man.
My today, and my tomorrow.
My forever.
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Also by A. S. Kelly
FOUR DAYS SERIES
Rainy Days, Four Days #1
Sweet Days, Four Days #2
Bad Days, Four Days #3
Lost Days, Four Days #4
O’CONNOR BROTHERS SERIES
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Notes
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