Lucky Daddy

by Lively, R. S.

“And college?” she asks, leaning her jaw into my hand like she couldn’t deny the pull that had been festering between us all night.

  “Your brother. He’s me best lad. I can’t imagine losing him.” Her eyes close from my words, and she nods, trying to take a step back, but I follow. “But I can’t imagine losing this with ye, either.” I rub my thumb over the apples of her cheek.

  “I’ve been waiting to hear those words from you for so long. I can’t believe they’re real.”

  My breath skips when she lays her hands flush against my chest. The warmth from her hands radiates under my skin, even so much as to seep into my heart.

  I lean my forehead against hers. “I want to try one thing,” I whisper, stepping closer into her space.

  “You’ve been drinking.” The excuse falls off her lips like a well-told lie.

  “Aye, but so have ye. I can tell ye this, I ain’t drunk. I feel me nerves firing in my body, doing somersaults, and twisting in my stomach.”

  She leans her head back and the tips of her hair rub against my hand, which was resting on her waist. Her lashes fan over her cheeks as she blinks her glistening gems at me. “I love your accent. It makes my legs all jello−y,” she admits, and a red hue darkens her cheeks.

  “Really? I try to keep it from sounding too heavy.”

  “I love it most when it’s heavy,” she whispers really low, as if she doesn’t mean for me to hear it. “This really isn’t a good idea.” Her palms rub my chest. “It isn’t at all, especially if we don’t want my brother to find out.”

  “I know. Ye right, but I have to do it. I can't help myself,” I say as I inch my way to her lips. She stands on the tips of her toes, trying to meet me. I hover my mouth over hers, wondering last-minute if I should pull away. Fuck it, though. I’ve come this far, and there isn’t any turning back now.

  My lips brush over hers like a feather—tentative at first, testing and making sure I’m welcome. She gasps into my mouth and pants heavy breaths. Our lips pull apart for a moment, stopping the soft kiss before it had time to begin. I tilt my head in the other direction, pressing my lips against hers once again. I can taste the whiskey on her breath along with a hint of peach from an earlier drink. I groan, wrapping my arms around her and aligning our bodies until the inches between us are gone.

  I swallow the whimper that leaves her mouth and it shoots all the way down to my cock. My hand runs up her spine, and I hold the back of her neck in a way that allows me to control the kiss. I spin her around and push her against the wall. Our lips break apart and we both take a few breaths before diving back in, tangling our tongues together in a heated passion. She feels so good in my arms.

  All of a sudden, a loud bang echoes from outside of her bedroom door, causing her to pull away. On instinct, I take a step back. Her eyes are glazed over, and her nipples are hard, begging me to give them attention. Her lips are red, swollen, and wet, something I have dreamed so much about over the years. Trust me when I say that the real thing is so much better. My chest heaves, matching the pace of hers. Her breasts press against the tight material of her dress every time she exhales, and it takes all I have not to take her mouth again in a frenzied kiss.

  “Gwen!” Anthony calls. He still sounds absolutely trashed.

  She touches her lips with her fingers, staring at me with big, wide eyes. She moves them down my body, and I don’t think it’s even possible, but the whites of her eyes show even more.

  Anthony bangs on the door again. “Gwen!” he whines, and a hard thud tells us that he has fallen against the door. I forget that Anthony never really learned how to handle his alcohol.

  She finally finds her voice. “What?” she shouts, never taking her eyes off me.

  “Have you seen Reilly?”

  That confuses me. He had just told me to have a good night before we parted ways.

  Gwen holds her hand over her mouth, hiding a smile. “You already told him goodnight, Anthony.”

  “I did not. He’s my friend.”

  I smile when she lets out a snort. Her hair dances over her shoulders as she shakes her head, never taking the eyes that I’ve loved since forever off of me. “No, I haven’t seen him. He must have left after I came upstairs.”

  “I’ll call him, Gwen. Night, Gwen. Love you, Gwen,” he slurs. “Ow.” Anthony slumps against the door again, groaning before making his way down the hall.

  We wait until we can't hear him tumbling anymore. I step forward, wrapping my arms around her waist again, but she pulls back.

  “This was a mistake,” she says, her lips squeezed in a tight line.

  “This wasn’t a mistake,” I plead.

  “I don’t know if it should happen again,” she continues. She speaks to my lips instead of my eyes, which tells me that she doesn’t believe a word she just said.

  “Something like this has to happen again, Gwenie.” I pull her bottom lip with my thumb before leaning down and giving her one last kiss for the night. “It’ll happen again.”

  “We’re already lying to my brother. How long will that go on, Reilly? I don’t want to be in a secret relationship.”

  I nod, understanding her worry. “It won't be forever. We still have a lot to work out. So, let’s just take it slow, and maybe kiss a little more.”

  She smiles, averting her eyes in a coy manner. “I could do that, but right now, we’re just friends.”

  “Yes. Friends that kiss.” I’ll go mad if I can’t kiss her again. All these years I’ve held myself back, but now that I’ve had a taste, I have to have her. To go without her now… Well, to put it simply, I’m just not strong enough.

  “Yeah, friends that kiss.” Her cheeks flush again.

  I clear my throat, kissing her forehead. “I’ll see ye around then, Gwenie.” I don’t want to, but I walk away from her and head toward the window.

  “Why don’t you use the front door like most people?”

  “This is more fun,” I wink, opening the window and sticking a leg out.

  She runs to me, holding her arms out. “Be careful,” she whispers, “and don’t get any more splinters.”

  “I won’t.” As I jump from the window to the branch, I hear her gasp. When I peek over my shoulder, I see her covering her mouth with her hands. “Don’t be nervous. I’m a pro.”

  “A pro that broke his arm climbing a tree.”

  “That was years ago.”

  “Yeah, that’s true. You’re an old man now. You probably can’t even keep up with me,” she teases, folding her arms on the windowsill and watching me descend the tree.

  I pause when she calls me old. “I’ll show ye old man next time I’m with ye.” I make sure not to raise my voice too high. I don’t want to alert anybody.

  “We’ll have to see about that,” she teases, grabbing the window and preparing to close it. “Good night, Reilly.”

  I don’t tear my eyes away from her as she pulls the glass down. It separates us, just like all those years had.

  Not anymore, though.

  Gwen Harper is all mine.

  Chapter Eleven

  Gwendolyn

  I flop onto my back, letting out a loud sigh. I tossed and turned all night thinking about Reilly’s lips against mine, remembering the way his tongue stroked my mouth, the way his hand clutched my neck, and the way his body felt against mine. My body heats when I think of his erection pressing against my lower abdomen. His height made kissing a bit difficult, or maybe it was my lack of height, but either way, he had to bend over to kiss me, so his cock pressed against my navel. The memory sends flutters through my spine.

  I want him so badly, but there is a part of me that’s holding back. I don’t want to get hurt, and if I take that leap with Reilly, I know I’ll get crushed. I don’t know how long it would take me to recover.

  The smell of coffee wafts through my room, and I debate if getting a cup of java would be worth the loss of the warmth that my bed provides. I glance at my alarm clock and see that it’s already te
n o’clock. I never sleep in that late, but I guess that’s just what happens when you’re unemployed. Today is the day I have to look for jobs, so a big cup of coffee is exactly what I need.

  I roll out of bed and the cold air causes me to shiver. I slide my feet into big, blue, fluffy slippers, and grab the robe that hangs on my door, wrapping it around me. I make my way downstairs, and as I pass the wall outside my bedroom, I pause to look at all the family photos. There are so many, and Reilly is in most of them. Well, at least the ones without me. It really is amazing how we managed to stay out of each other’s way when he practically lived under this roof.

  There is one that’s just me and him, and I run my fingers over it, remembering that day like it was yesterday. I close my eyes, letting my memories take me back. I smelled the clean scent of pine as he wrapped his arms around me, whispering in my ear how proud he was of me. He had nearly suffocated me with how close he held me. But during the moment he held me, everything felt right. The world stopped spinning as he pulled me toward him, and my body finally stopped fighting the need to go to him. For a split second, I felt grounded.

  And then he pulled away, taking my heart with him.

  I clear my throat, blinking away the tears that threaten my eyes, and continue my descent down the steps. The closer I get to the kitchen, the stronger the smell of coffee is, and the weaker the memory becomes.

  Anthony has his back to me when I enter. “Good morning, Anthony.”

  He groans, holding his head. “Not so loud,” he whispers, staring at the cup of coffee in front of him.

  I cringe when I catch a glimpse of his face. He looks rough. “Feeling okay?” I ask as I pour myself a nice cup of joe.

  His hair is sticking up in all different directions as he narrows his bloodshot eyes at me. “Do I look alright? You know better than to let me drink,” he winces. “Even the sound of my own voice hurts.”

  “I’m not your keeper. It was your decision to drink.”

  “Stop yelling at me,” he hisses, wrapping his hands around the mug.

  I snort into my coffee, watching as he cringes and groans every time he moves. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

  “Only the moment when I threw up in the toilet. I hope I didn’t do anything stupid.”

  I cock my head, thinking about Anthony’s drunken mishaps and asking about Reilly when the tall, sexy man was in my bedroom. “Nope. I can’t remember anything. I think you’re safe.”

  My parents stumble into the kitchen, looking just as wrecked as Anthony. “Am I the only one who knows how to drink responsibly around here?” All of them are in a zombie-like state, dragging their feet and groaning every time they have to move.

  My mom waves my words away. “When you get to our age, you don’t care.”

  “And what does that say about Anthony?” I ask, sipping the black nectar.

  “Oh, we know your brother can’t handle a drop of alcohol.” My father kisses my mom on the cheek before making her a cup of coffee with two creams and two sugars, as always.

  “Will you all stop shouting? Inside voices,” Anthony whispers, clutching his head again.

  I dig into the drawer to grab a bottle of pain killers. I give him four two-hundred-milligram Ibuprofen pills. “Here, take this and then go back to bed. You’re a grouch.”

  He holds out his hand, and once the pills are in his palm, he tosses them into his mouth, washing them down with coffee.

  Gross.

  “Good idea. Thanks, sis.” He gets up slowly and steadily, swaying a bit before saying, “I’m okay.” He gags, holding his hand over his mouth. “I’m fine. I’m okay,” he tries to convince everyone, including himself. With careful footsteps, he walks down the hall and pauses at the bottom of the staircase, staring at the steps like they are the enemy. “I’m going to lay down on the couch.”

  Stairs, one. Anthony, zero.

  “Did you have a good time last night, Bunny?” my father asks, seeming more awake now that he’s sipped some coffee. This family has an addiction to coffee, that’s for sure.

  “I did. It was good to see everyone. Mills came by and asked if I wanted to be roommates with her. I said yes.”

  My mom’s face falls. Her bottom lip pokes out and she circles her finger around the edge of the mug. “But you just got here. I thought I’d have more time with you.”

  “Aw, honey. She is grown. She needs to go out and spread her wings. She will still be in town.” Dad glances at me, wrapping his arms around Mom. “You’re still going to be in town, right?”

  “Yeah, Dad. I’m not going anywhere. I still have a little bit of money saved up. That will help while I look for another job.”

  “You know we will help you, Bunny.”

  I smile, giving both of my parents a kiss on the cheek. “I know you will, but it isn’t your job to keep me afloat. I need to figure it out.”

  Mom pats my hand. “It’s always our job. That never changes. I’m proud of you, but don’t get yourself into a pickle, okay? If you need help, come to us. Promise me?”

  “I swear, Mom.” I give her a big hug. They always support me, and right now, after losing my job, it means everything and more.

  “Good. Now, I’m going back to bed. I understand how Anthony feels.” She holds her head, leaving the room.

  “How’d it go with Reilly last night?” Dad leans against the counter, a smug smile forming across his lips as he sips on his coffee.

  I busy myself by opening the refrigerator to look for food. “Huh? What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “So that wasn’t him scaling the tree outside and slipping into your bedroom window?”

  I hit my head on the door of the fridge, cursing the fact that my dad saw him. I laugh it off. “No. Come on, Dad. You know he can’t stand me.”

  “Mhmm. Sure. Your secret is safe with me.”

  When I spin around to talk about it more with him, he’s already gone. I sigh and slump against the fridge after shutting it. Keeping our relationship hidden might be more difficult than we thought. Well, whatever it is between us, that is. I don’t know if what we have could be considered a relationship. I sit on the stool, folding my arms on the counter and laying my head down.

  Someone knocks on the front door, but I ignore it. However, whoever is there keeps knocking.

  “Oh my god. Someone answer the door and tell them to leave. They are banging so loudly. It isn’t necessary,” Anthony whines from the living room.

  “I have to do everything around here,” I mutter, sliding off the stool. I open the front door to reveal a peppy Mills. Pieces of her hair have fallen out of her bun and she is wearing mascara, and a big smile on her face. She has on yoga pants and a tank top like she just finished working out.

  “Good morning! Are you ready?”

  I open the door wider to let her in. “Ready for what?”

  “To look for our new apartment, silly.”

  “Oh, wow. Now? When you asked, I thought it was like a someday-in-the-future kind of thing.”

  Her ponytail slaps her cheek as she shakes her head. “Nope. Now. I’m serious. Stuff won’t get done if we sit around, will it?” She strides into the living room to sit down but is stopped in her tracks by the sight of Anthony taking up the couch. “Oh, you look like crap.”

  He groans. “Will you stop talking? Your voice hurts my head.”

  “Rude.”

  “Loud mouth.”

  “At least I can handle my alcohol.”

  “Touché,” he whispers pathetically.

  Mills shakes her head in response to his dramatics. She takes my hand and pulls me from the living room, up the stairs, and into my bedroom. “So, what happened last night?” she asks in a hushed tone, shutting the door behind her.

  I walk to my closet, sliding the hangers against the rail and analyzing each piece of clothing I have. “What do you mean?” I ask. Ooooh, that shirt is cute. I think about how I haven’t worn it in forever. “What
do you think?” I hold the old N’Sync T-shirt against my body, posing for Mills.

  She snatches it from me and tosses it across the room. “Don’t change the subject. Tell me what happened!”

  “What makes you think something happened?” I turn back to my closet so she won’t see the look on my face. I smile, biting my lip and remembering the way Reilly kissed me.

  “Because I know. Best friends know these things. Come on.”

  I exhale a big breath, twisting my fingers together. “We talked on the porch.”

  “And?”

  “And he brought whiskey.”

  “And?” she prods.

  “We drank it.”

  “Oh, come on, Gwen. Give me details.”

  “He told me that he thought I was beautiful and that he had always thought I was beautiful.”

  She grabs my shoulders, spinning me around to face her. “Oh my god. That’s everything you’ve ever wanted to hear.”

  I shrug my shoulders, staring out the window that he came through last night. “It was, but I got mad, too. All these years of him ignoring me and now he’s all about me? He even climbed up the tree and snuck into my bedroom window like the Irish-Italian prince of my dreams.”

  “He snuck into your bedroom window?” she gasps, squealing. “Tell me more. Oh, get dressed, too. We need to get an apartment and find you a job today.”

  “Well, he snuck in because I walked away from him last night. I don’t know. We are keeping everything secret. We kissed and he went on his way.”

  “You kissed? How was it?”

  I bite my lip, feeling blood rush to my cheeks.

  “Oh, wow. That good?”

  “So damn good,” I sigh, remembering the way his tongue slid between my lips.

  “Down, girl. He isn’t here to help you out.”

  I grab a pillow and throw it at her, hitting her right in the face. “Shut up. This stays between us. I don’t want Anthony finding out.”

  “Really? That again? Are you guys still going to let him come between you two? It’s been years. I mean… years.” She opens my suitcase and rummages through it, tossing my green tank top and dark red skinny jeans to me. “Where are your black Vans?”