by Esme Devlin
I haul myself out of bed and wrap my housecoat tight around me, slipping my phone in the pocket before heading downstairs. I’m assuming Alice doesn’t work weekends, so headache or not, this one is up to me. I put the kettle on and check my phone. It’s quarter to six in the morning. Jesus. Does the man not need sleep?
Stevie texted me at 2am to make sure I got home okay. I type a reply, telling her I’m fine and to phone me when she wakes up.
The kettle hasn’t even finished boiling when my phone rings.
“Stevie?”
“Not even been to sleep yet, motherfucker,” she giggles.
“What are you like! Is Calvin with you?”
“He just left, like, not even two minutes ago. But enough about him… on a scale of 1 to 10 how intact is your cherry?”
“You are vile,” I laugh at her.
“And you are one hundred and ten percent not a virgin anymore,” she says, matter-of-factly.
“Good job babysitting you did, eh?” I fill up the cup and stir the tea bag, crossing the room to fetch the milk from the fridge.
“I know. I’m sorry. Listen, we need to talk. Calvin said some things and well, I kinda believe him. I’m not saying Shaun is a good guy, but Calvin seems to think he’s crazy about you. We spoke on the drive to the restaurant and I kinda had my guard down last night. I should have pulled you into the toilets and filled you in, but well, one too many tipples.” she says.
“I think he just liked the challenge, to be honest. But he’s won that now. He wants to go out tonight, ‘a proper date’, so he says, but I’m not reading too much into it.”
“You can’t have round two without filling me in on round one first. That’s a crime against best-friendship. Meet me at the high street. We’ll get coffee and find you an outfit for tonight. I just need to sleep first.”
“Okay, but honestly I think I’m good for outfits,” I tell her, thinking back to how much Shaun hated her first attempt at dressing me.
“Sorted then, text you in a bit when I’ve returned to the land of the living,” she says.
I chuckle at her, taking a sip of my tea. “Sweet dreams!”
❖
I spend the morning pottering around the empty house, watching TV and drinking tea and trying to avoid my bed, which smells like Shaun.
I don’t regret what happened. It was a mistake, but it felt like it was inevitable. And it was my mistake to make. It can only end in heartache if I let it, and I won’t. I don’t let anyone get too attached. It’s a skill I’ve gained throughout my life, always moving from place to place. Never getting too close.
My phone buzzes and I check the message. Stevie’s ready.
I would miss Stevie if we left tomorrow.
Would I miss Shaun?
Maybe. But not like how you’d miss someone you cared about. I think I would miss having nobody there in my head with me all day. He takes up such a large part of my thoughts, that it would take time to fill it with something else. It’s not like the thoughts are all good ones though, so maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing.
I grab my car keys and my purse and head into town to meet Stevie. She chose this quiet little cafe that sits inside a barn conversion, which is probably the closest thing this town has to a Starbucks. She told me the coffee was decent and they don’t rush you, but I don’t want to stay too long. The pharmacy is just down the road and I want to catch it before closing time to sort out a morning after pill… I really wasn’t joking about the cage for his kids thing.
“You wouldn’t know you didn’t get any sleep last night,” I tell her as she sits down in the chair opposite to me. Her long dark hair is tied back in a voluminous ponytail, and she’s bronzed and contoured her cheeks to perfection.
“I have someone to impress now,” she winks at me. “Never know who you might bump into!”
“So are you two… like.. a thing?” I ask her.
“A thing? We’re fucking, yes. I told you he was a ride, and I meant it,” she answers with a shrug, taking a sip of her latte and then screwing her nose up like she’s just burnt her tongue.
“Just fucking?” I say with raised eyebrows, keeping my voice low so as not to shock any innocent patrons.
She puts her cup down on the table and leans forward. “Just fucking. I still believe all that shit I told you about. Calvin seems nice… for like, a bad-boy arsehole whatever, but I don’t want to get caught up in whatever it is they’re all caught up in.”
“You both seemed to hit it off,” I tell her, pausing while I choose my next words carefully. “What if it is just business? Wouldn’t that be shame to not take a chance on something that could be good, just because of some superstition?”
“Doesn’t seem worth the risk to me.”
I nod. I’m not going to argue with her. She’s a grown-up; she can make her own decisions.
“Anyhoo… what’s the deal with you?”
Surely I’d have to know myself to be able to explain it to her? I swallow, trying to think of the best place to start. “We did it,” I tell her, as casually as I can manage.
“And… ?”
“And… it was good.”
“You‘re shit at this. How good? What was it like? Is he big? Did you come?”
I laugh at her directness. “Uh. Let’s see. Quite good. Quite good. Yes, and yes.” I laugh.
She rolls her eyes at me.
“No, I’m kidding,” I smile at her. “I’m just not used to this.”
“How did it happen? He said he’d get you home safe, the little shit. I wanted to believe him so much,” she says, shaking her head.
“To be fair to him, it was kinda, sorta, almost me. Well, mostly me. He’d have read the signals.”
“You were sending signals? I didn’t think you’d had that much wine!” She has another attempt at her latte, her face screwing up in mock disbelief. It’s one of the things I like so much about Stevie. I remember when I first met her, thinking she was blunt and almost standoffish, but now I couldn’t have her any other way.
“It wasn’t the wine!” I protest. “Seriously, I think I just had a fuck it moment. Like, once it’s done, then it’s done. I won’t be a challenge anymore, and he can leave me alone in peace. At least that was my logic at the time,” I tell her.
“And if he doesn’t leave you be?” she says. “I’m just thinking about what Calvin said last night. I really don’t think he was winding me up, Lace.”
“Then I can cross that bridge when I come to it. I still haven’t forgiven him for what he did.”
“You sure?” her eyes narrow on me.
I am sure. He set out to ruin my life over some petty schoolyard rivalry. Anyone who does that isn’t mentally stable, and no matter how fucking handsome they are, no matter how much my body wants them, that’s not someone I should be with. And, even if I could get passed that, even if I could forgive him… we’re not the same. I can’t imagine ever bringing someone like Shaun home to meet my father. He looks like bad news. He looks like the type of guy my mum would warn me about, if I had one. Parents can sense things like that on instinct.
No, if I have to cross that bridge, then I’ll take it as it comes. I enjoyed sleeping with him. It was fun; it made me feel good. I’d probably even do it again, but that’s where it ends. I won’t let myself forget.
“I’m sure. He’d have to find the cure for illness and bring about world-fucking-peace before I ever forget what he did to me,” I say.
“Damn girl,” she slams her palm down on the table, imitating Calvin last night. “You know how to hold a grudge. I respect that.”
I giggle at her, sipping my coffee.
“And I’ll be sure to remind you of that if his magic cock ever makes you forget.”
“Spoken like a true friend,” I say, smiling sweetly at her.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” she says, nodding her head towards the door.
I turn around, not really sure who I was expecting, but it certainly was
n’t Rosheen, anyway. She’s standing at the door with two other girls, and she’s watching me watch her.
I’d rather not aggravate a confrontation out of her, so I turn back around towards Stevie and pick up my cup of coffee, but Rosheen has other ideas. I hear heels click across the wooden floor, and she takes the seat right next to me, her little crew of minions standing behind her. From the amused look on their faces, they’re impressed by her boldness.
“Rosheen,” I say. I won’t let her dominate the conversation. Not this time.
“Slut,” she says back. Her friends cackle behind her.
“You’re doing a great job of hiding your jealousy, hun. Take a bow.” I smile at her and her face drops. That shuts her friends up.
“Jealous of a little skank like you? Why would I be jealous?” She corrects her composure quickly, her dark eyebrow arching up and her face turning into a smirk.
“Listen, everyone knows you’re like, mad for Shaun,” Stevie pipes up, her tone dripping with sympathy. “He’s just not that into you. They’re dating now. Move the fuck on.”
“Dating?” she says, both her eyebrows rise now, but her smirk is gone. “Shaun doesn’t date.”
“Then who took her to dinner last night? Who’s picking her up tonight? As I said, you need to move on. It’s getting more than a little draining now,” Stevie says, casually picking up her coffee and taking a drink.
Rosheen slides her chair back across the wooden floor and stands up. The two girls behind her are silent. I don’t personally know how much of Rosheen is talk and how much of it could be backed up by actions. I know nothing about her, other than she hates me. She could flip the table over right now, rip me to the ground by my hair, and kick the shit out of me. Or not. I don’t know. I’m not sure anyone knows. Her friends are looking at her warily. She looks from me, to Stevie, and then back to me again.
“Well, enjoy it while it lasts. Because it won’t.” She turns and pushes right through her friends, storming out of the cafe. They look at each other and quickly follow behind her.
I hear the door slam shut and look at Stevie. “You probably shouldn’t have said that.”
She shrugs. “I know. But it was so fucking worth it.”
I hope she’s right.
Chapter 18
Shaun
“So, was her pussy made of milk and honey?” Calvin asks.
“Is she the one who’ll finally change Shaun Keagan and lead him to the path of redemption?” Tony offers.
“He fucked it up. I bet he fucked it up,” Doeboy says with a laugh. I let go of the steering wheel and clip him around the ear, giving him my middle finger on the way back.
I don’t know how to describe it, but I do know I’ve never fucked a girl like that in my life before. Like there was a point to it, besides coming. Like we were the same fucking being. Like she was everything that matters, and more on top.
Not that I’d ever admit to any of that.
“She’s nice, alright? That’s all I’m saying,” I tell them.
“Never had you down as someone who likes them ‘nice’, Shaun,” Scoot says from behind me.
“Aye well, maybe that’s why I’ve never bothered my arse before,” I chuckle. “And I don’t mean nice, as in, nice and boring. She runs rings around me. Keeps me on my toes. That’s the difference between a girl and a woman, as far as I’m concerned. Maybe one day when you lot grow up, you’ll understand what I mean.”
They all erupt in laughter and I know I’ve said too much. I’d meant it as a joke, my tone clearly portrayed I was joking, but there was obviously some semblance of truth in there and they’re not going to pass up on an opportunity like that. I’ve just handed them my balls on a silver plate and given them a sharp knife to carve them with.
“He’s in love. That’s it. We won’t see him again for shit,” Tony says.
“Aye, what if the boxing’s on TV and we all want to come over with a crate of lager… and she’s like ‘no Shaun, please Shaun, I need you to fuck me Shaun, I just wanna stay in and suck your cock Shaun’ what will you do?” Doeboy, the arsehole, is lucky he’s not getting another slap.
“We’ll be dropped quicker than a half-key of Gear on a drugs raid,” Tony tells the group.
“Fucking settle down. Do you cunts want to walk?” I say, trying to keep my voice stern but I can’t help smiling at them.
I’m in a ridiculously good mood. They can play the goat all they want to, I don’t give two fucks.
“Lacey’s alright by the way,” Calvin says.
“Well, you would say that considering you’re fucking her best pal,” Tony argues.
“Do they have any more friends with these mythical milk and honey pussies?” Doeboy asks with a chuckle.
I can’t listen to them anymore. I turn the music up to full volume and drown out their noise, and they laugh at that like it’s the funniest joke in the world. I don’t turn it down until I pull up outside Calvin’s house and they all pile out.
It’s hot outside, so the windows are down, and Calvin leans his head back inside the window while the rest of them head up the path. “Try not to fuck it up tonight, mate.”
“You’re over-invested in this,” I tell him.
“I enjoy seeing you happy. Beats the moody wee cunt you normally are.” He grins, and I flick the button on the side console so the window begins to roll up. He jumps back and starts laughing. “Prick! I’ll catch ya later.”
“Aye, catch ya later.”
I arrive home and see my father’s red Huracan parked in front of the house. He doesn’t normally get home til yawn-time on Saturdays, preferring to spend his nights at the club in the nearest small city under the guise of "business”.
Maybe my mum won this battle.
I check the time on my phone as I head into the house, it’s 6pm so that gives me just under an hour to get showered and shaved before I pick her up. I haven’t told her what I’m planning, so if she comes out in a dress I’ll have to march her back inside to get changed. You can’t ride a horse in a dress. At least, I assume you can’t. But I won’t warn her about that, because the thought of marching her back inside and watching her change is making my cock hard.
I come in the house and head straight for the kitchen, as always, to see what’s for eating. My mum and dad are sitting at the table, and I give them a nod as I pass.
“Sit down, Shaun,” my dad says.
I stop what my I’m doing, my hand still resting on the fridge door. “Can’t — sorry Da. Heading straight out.”
“Sit down,” he repeats, and this time it’s impossible to miss the edge in his voice.
I do as I’m told and take the seat opposite from him and my mum.
“John O’Connell came to see me tonight,” he says.
Rosheen’s dad? Fuck does he want? I wouldn’t use that tone with my old man though. I save that tone for inside my head, like a good little son.
“Aye?” I say instead.
“I’m only going to ask you this once, son. What the fuck is the deal with Lacey Tyler?”
He stares at me and my heart starts fucking racing. There is only one person on this planet who stirs anything close to fear inside me, and it’s my dad. I can lie to him. Although I don’t enjoy lying, not when there’s the option of keeping quiet instead. But I’ve nothing against lying to save your own arse, as long as you don’t get caught.
The problem with my dad is that he never lets on what he knows and what he doesn’t know. Not until it’s too late. I’ve found that out the hard way too many times.
“There is no deal,” I tell him, shrugging casually.
“I told you to get rid of her.” His face is blank. What does he know?
“I know,” I reply. This is normally the best way to lie. Don’t offer any additional information.
“You’ve not done that. Are you incapable of doing that?”
“No,” I say, looking him in the eye.
He watches me for a minute, stud
ying my face. “You said you were going out tonight. Where are you going?”
“Out,” I reply.
“Don’t take the cunt out of me, son. Where? With whom?” His face turns hard and I swallow. There it is. The bit where I’ll actually have to lie. Fuck this. I try to remember what I did with my car keys and give my pockets a sly feel under the table. Empty. Must have chucked them down on the side table in the hall, along with my wallet and my phone.
I get up to leave quickly, and my dad is already standing up. He’s probably slightly smaller than me, but he’s faster. He always has been. Even when I was unbeaten at the boxing, I’d spar with my dad occasionally, and he’d still get the better of me. We eye each other across the table. He knows I know he could probably get the better of me, and his eyes are daring me to move.
“Sit the fuck down, boy. Use your head for once,” he warns.
“Jim,” my mum looks up at him, her voice soft, her eyes pleading. She reaches out and puts her hand on his forearm, but he doesn’t even acknowledge her.
“I’m going out.” I keep my face straight and my eyes locked on his. If I look away now, I’ll lose whatever game he’s playing. He hates any sign of weakness.
“With that wee slag? Think again, son. You take one step towards that door and I’ll break your fucking legs.”
All I can do is hope he’s bluffing, as I turn around and head for the door.
He’s never bluffed before.
He’s not bluffing now.
I feel his fingers grip around the neckband of my T-shirt, and he yanks me backwards with the force of a fucking car crash. I stumble back into him but he must anticipate this, because the next thing I know his fist is coming down in a torrent on the side of my head.
“Fucking little bastard,” he spits.
My hands instantly move up to defend his target. I’ve taken so many punches in my life that it’s just pure instinct now. Like a reflex. I don’t have time to recover and turn this back around on him. And even if I did, would I? Would I have the balls to knock him one back?
I don’t know if I would.
