The Irish Lottery: A Friends-to-Lovers Contemporary Romance (Irish Kiss)

by Sienna Blake

  His eyes met mine and his whole body jolted. He ripped the headphones out of his ears, his expression suddenly furious, and I froze.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked in an even tone that didn’t match the fire burning in his eyes.

  Stunned, I felt my mouth open, but no words came out.

  His eyes focused on me, the annoyance slowly dying in them until he seemed like Sean again.

  “I was worried.” I swallowed hard, still shaken by his strange response to me. “You didn’t answer your texts or phone calls.”

  His eyes skipped across the file in front of him, the papers in his hands, the work on his desk, then swept back to me. “I’m working.”

  “I can see that,” I said. “You didn’t answer my text from this morning. I was worried.”

  His lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t have time to be messaging you all day, Aubrey.”

  “It wasn’t all day. It was one freakin’ message.” Which he was rude not to get back to me, by the way.

  Sean gave me a look. “And the other day? The other night?”

  My eyes nearly bulged out of my head. “You’re acting like I send you a hundred messages a day.”

  Sean let out a sigh and his eyes drifted to the papers in his hand. “I don’t really have time for this, babe.”

  “Oh, Ok, I’ll just go then.”

  “Great.”

  I spluttered. “Are you freakin’ serious?”

  Sean let out a groan. “Jaysus, Aubrey, is this what it’s going to be like?”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. My cheeks were getting red hot and I was about to burst. “Sean, what the hell is going on?”

  “I’m trying to get some work done.”

  “No,” I said coming to stand right in front of his desk. “This, whatever is going on with you, with us, has nothing to do with work.”

  Sean groaned. “Do we have to do this now? I have a report due—”

  I grabbed the papers in his hand and flung them down on his desk, ignoring his cry of protest. “Yes, now. What is wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t give me that.”

  Sean sank back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest a defensive posture if I ever saw one.

  I told myself to breathe. I took in a deep calming breath. Then a second one.

  Sean still wasn’t making eye contact. He was acting like maybe if he ignored me for long enough, I’d go away.

  “What are you stressed about?” I asked in a soft voice, hoping to coax the truth from him.

  “It’s just…work, Aubrey. I keep telling you this.”

  “You go days without messaging me, you’ve cancelled the last few times we’ve organized something, and when we do spend time together, it’s like you’re not really there,” I said, trying to keep my voice as level as possible.

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Too busy for me,” I said. “You weren’t too busy to hang out with the boys the other night. Or go to rugby training.”

  Sean rubbed his eyes. “I just… I just don’t know.”

  “Don’t know what?”

  “I mean, I was going to give it some time, you know?”

  “Know what? Give what time?” My head was starting to spin.

  “It just…happened so quickly. I don’t think either of us really thought it through.”

  “Sean…” I placed my palms down on his desk, a sinking feeling growing in me, “…what are you talking about?”

  He sighed in frustration. “I didn’t want to do this but…I don’t think I can do this.”

  “What do you mean…this? Do what?”

  He waved a hand between us.

  My heart stopped beating in my chest. Us. He meant us.

  He couldn’t do…us.

  I stumbled back, falling into the chair in front of his desk. “You don’t want to marry me anymore.” It was a statement, not a question. The words sounded hollow from my mouth. Because I felt hollow.

  Shouldn’t I be…raging?

  Maybe I was in shock.

  I waited for the scorned fury, the heartbreaking sadness to rise up and consume me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just don’t think either of us is ready for this commitment.”

  That wasn’t true.

  I may have been only twenty-three, but I was ready to commit to the right man. Love didn’t wait till you were ready. It came along and smacked you on your ass. And if you loved that person enough, then you wanted them to be by your side as you “got ready”. You’d figure out life together. With each other. Not the other way around.

  “I mean, we can stay together, just…not get married,” Sean said.

  His words stung because they sounded like a consolation prize.

  “I mean,” he continued, sounding like he was rambling, “I asked because you need your visa and it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I’m sure if you looked harder, if you really wanted to, you’d find a job that would get you a visa.”

  I let out a snort. I had been trying. Hard. How dare he suggest otherwise.

  “I’m just not ready for marriage yet. Maybe I will be…”

  I stared at the man I thought I was going to marry. Sean wouldn’t hold my eye, staring into his lap where he was wringing his fingers. I could see that he hated that he was doing this to me. That’s why he’d been avoiding me for the last few weeks.

  “Say something,” he blurted out, the silence obviously getting too much for him.

  “What do you want me to say?”

  Sean leaned forward, his brows pressed with concern. “Are you okay?”

  I paused…then nodded.

  Sean let out a sigh of relief and sank back into his chair. “Cool. Okay. Thank you for taking this so well. I’m sorry.”

  I nodded again, unable to form words, my mind whirring. Our engagement was over. But I felt…okay.

  Sean was a good guy, really. He was sweet, smart and respectful. I never had to worry about him stepping out on me. But there was just something…missing between us. We were…a brown coat, comfortable but totally replaceable.

  We had no…fire in the soul of us. No great love that would burn hot enough to last a lifetime.

  This was the truth I hadn’t been willing to face until now.

  I slid my key to Sean’s apartment onto the desk and stood.

  His eyes fixed on it and widened. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m sorry, too,” I said.

  Sean blinked at me. “You’re breaking up with me? Just because I don’t want to get married?”

  I shook my head. “I think you and I both know that this isn’t going to work.”

  As I walked away, my socks padding my footsteps, I wondered if Sean would come after me. If this was the part when he came after me, fought for me, begged for me to stay. The part where we caught on fire.

  As I put on my shoes, I could swear I could hear him typing.

  Closing his door behind me, I sucked in a deep breath, trying to process what just happened.

  Sean and I were over.

  Why wasn’t I feeling heartbroken? Why did I feel…relieved?

  But on some level, I understood why.

  I wanted fire. I wanted to be with someone who couldn’t get enough of me, even if I was in his face all freaking day. I wanted to be with my soulmate. With my everyday hero.

  With my best friend.

  For some strange reason, Noah’s face popped into my mind. I shoved that aside before I could dwell on why.

  Aubrey

  “What’s going on with you?”

  I glanced up into Noah’s blue eyes.

  He stood a few feet away, arms crossed, watching me through narrowed eyes.

  I finished wiping up the tiny spill on the bar while quickly considering my response.

  It hadn’t even been a day since Sean and I had broken up. I’d been keeping it to myself for the time being while I processed how I was feeling. I hadn’
t been acting any differently, or at least I didn’t think so.

  “Nothing,” I lied. And immediately winced. Noah could always tell when I was holding something back from him.

  “Shite on, it’s nothing. Spill it.” He wasn’t going to give up until I gave him something.

  “I’m just a bit tired,” I said. It was true; I hadn’t slept well last night. I’d tossed and turned until about 6 a.m., trying my best to figure out what to do now and how to tell everyone. All that lost sleep and I still had no answers. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  Noah moved in close like he was going to give me a hug, but instead pressed his lips to my forehead. It wasn’t quite a kiss, more of just a touch.

  It sent a shock of warmth through me, and I froze.

  He backed off a second later and frowned down at me. “You’re not running a fever. How are you feeling otherwise?”

  “Did you just use your lips to check my temperature?”

  He nodded. “It’s how Ma used to check mine. Do you want me to drive you home?”

  For some strange reason, his concern brought me almost to the brink of tears. I blinked, trying to cover the sudden moisture in my eyes. I shook my head. “I’m not sick, just…” I opened my mouth to tell him the truth, that Sean had freaked out and had called off the engagement, but something stopped the words before they could leave my lips.

  I let out an awkward laugh. “Just feeling emotional for no reason.” I sucked in a deep breath and struggled to compose myself.

  Noah pulled me into a hug and I wrapped my arms around his neck. Clinging to him, I inhaled his warm, clean scent and heard his murmur. “I’m here if you need me.”

  I needed him. More than I’d ever needed anyone.

  A few days later, I sat alone on my couch, a piping hot cup of tea in my hand. The mug—an oversized, heavy ceramic thing covered in butterflies—steamed, and I breathed in the scent of chamomile.

  Beside me, my laptop was open and on. On the screen was the image of the four Irish men of the now infamous Irish Lottery. It might sound strange, but I swear that blue eyed one looked like he was staring right at me. Through me. He may or may not have starred in a very sexy dream last night. Or at least those blue eyes were all I could remember when I’d woken all hot and bothered in a tangle of sweaty sheets.

  A national news channel had gotten hold of the story, and now everybody was talking about it. All night, that’s all the patrons at the bar would talk about. I heard they’d even made the international news and women from overseas were entering. It was crazy. Would women really travel all the way to Ireland to have their fantasies fulfilled?

  Wouldn’t I?

  I thought about my response to Noah when he’d asked me if I’d consider entering this lottery.

  I’d said no because I was engaged.

  Now I was single and my reason was null and void. But in the harsh light of day, staring at the actual entry form, I wasn’t quite as sure. Did I have the guts to go through with it?

  “There’s no way I’d win,” I said out loud to the silent apartment. My roommate was staying at her boyfriend’s place so I had the whole night and most of tomorrow to myself.

  I glanced at my laptop. Four strangers. Though the site said I could pick and choose any one of them or any combo of them. My heart began to thunder and rumble in my chest and I couldn’t help but wiggle a tiny bit in my seat. Nearly spilling my Lyon’s tea, I took a quick sip of the hot liquid. It stung all the way down my throat and I blinked back tears.

  Ah, what the hell. I might as well give it a go.

  Setting my tea down on the coffee table, I picked up my laptop. With it balanced on my crossed legs, I bought the ticket and came to the box asking for my fantasy. I chewed my lip. What did I want? I could type out something elaborate, something outrageous, something akin to Candace’s four-or-five-at-once desires. But was that what I truly wanted?

  My fingers hovered over the keys and I let out a sigh. I typed.

  I just want someone to give me an orgasm.

  Short, sweet, and incredibly pathetic. My hands shook so hard I missed the enter key and had to delete the string of backslashes I’d accidentally typed into the box when I missed the key. I held my breath and touched the enter button with a single finger like a chicken peck before I could lose my nerve and change my mind. With a squeak of excitement, I saw the loading icon.

  Then my laptop went black.

  “What the heck?” I asked, touching the trackpad to wake it up. Had it gone into sleep mode that quickly?

  The screen didn’t flicker to life, so I held down the power button. Nothing.

  My laptop was dead.

  “Oh, God,” I whispered into the empty room as my cheeks heated up like I’d been stung by a billion angry bees. The first thing anyone would see when they fixed it was that I was entering a lottery to have four hot Irishmen give me an orgasm.

  Aubrey

  The knock at the door surprised me. I jumped to my feet and clicked off the TV before hurrying over and opening it a crack.

  Darren’s green eyes met mine through the tiny opening. He grinned. “Fix-it man, at your service.”

  “Did Noah send you?” I asked. I’d talked to Noah on the phone last night and mentioned that my computer had died on me. He’d offered to send Darren. I’d told him not to and that I’d go have it fixed by someone next week.

  Darren nodded. “Threatened me with bodily harm if I didn’t.”

  I was being rude as hell, keeping Darren out in the drafty hall like I was. But I also knew that if he managed to boot up my computer, the page I was on could pop up and he’d see it. I did not want Darren, and as a consequence, Noah, to find out that I entered the Irish Lottery and what my pathetic excuse for a fantasy was.

  I just want someone to give me an orgasm.

  I would die of embarrassment.

  “It’s okay. I can get my laptop fixed by a professional,” I said.

  Darren slapped a hand over his heart. “Madam, you wound me.”

  I smiled, trying to soften my refusal. “No offense.”

  “You don’t think I can fix it?” Darren crossed his arms over his chest as if I’d just questioned his manliness.

  “I’m sure you can. But my laptop is not your problem.”

  He shrugged. “It’s no bother. This kind of stuff gets my mind working. I like it. At least let me look at it, I came all this way here.”

  “Well, I…” Dammit. I couldn’t come up with a good reason to tell him no. I opened the door wide and walked back to the couch. Flopping down on it, I watched him come in and pick up my laptop off the coffee table.

  “What were you doing when it died?”

  I could feel my face heating up. “I, uh, was online.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, yeah?”

  It hit me, what he must be thinking. “I wasn’t watching—” my voice lowered to a humiliated whisper, “—porn.”

  “None of my business what you were doing,” he said in an even, calm voice like we were discussing the weather. “Just helps give me an idea of what might be wrong.”

  “I had a web browser open, that’s all,” I said.

  “One tab?” He arched an eyebrow at me.

  I nodded. He opened my laptop and messed with the power button. I’d had it plugged in all night, hoping that it would be as simple as needing a charge, but no such luck.

  “How’s your ma?” I asked.

  “You know, Ma,” he said as he worked. “She’s going along pretending like everything’s fine, the stubborn old bat.” The affection in his voice was clear. “The four of us have a roster going on so that one of us is checking in on her at least once a day.” Darren paused his messing to shoot me a grin. “She doesn’t know about the roster so don’t tell her. Although she suspects. It’s driving her crazy. ‘Jaysus Christ, you boys are all under me feet like mice. I get rid of one of ye and another pops up. I’m not a bloody invalid, you know?’”

  I laughed at
Darren’s high-pitched impersonation of his mother.

  He chuckled along with me and pulled out a little tool set from his pocket. He flipped my laptop over and began to unscrew the little screws holding everything together with the deft hands of someone who knew what they were doing. “I don’t know if I said thank you for organizing that fundraiser.”

  I smiled. “You did.” My shoulders slumped. “It wasn’t enough though.”

  Darren reached out and placed a hand on my arm. “Hey. It was more than enough.” His smile crinkled the corners of his lovely jade eyes. He was a beautiful man. Of course he was, being related to Noah. But his touch didn’t give me that strange fluttering feeling in my belly.

  He continued dismantling my laptop bit by bit, placing everything just so on the coffee table like he was making a map. “How are things with Sean?” he asked without looking up at me.

  I know it was meant to be a casual question. I didn’t expect the lump in my throat to appear at hearing it. I didn’t want to lie. I didn’t want to tell him the truth. I hadn’t told anyone yet. What the heck should I say? Shifting in my seat, I tried to think of a good enough deflection. Stay vague. Then I wouldn’t have to lie. “He’s fine.”

  “Fine?”

  “He’s…busy with work.”

  Darren lifted his gaze from the guts of my laptop to fix on my face. “Oh? When was the last time you saw him?”

  “A few days ago,” I said slowly. When we’d broken up.

  “And when will you see him next?”

  Ahhhh. “I…don’t…know.”

  Darren’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is everything okay with you two?”

  I shrugged. See…vague. Noncommittal. Not exactly lying.

  “I didn’t see him at the fundraiser,” Darren said as he studied me.

  It felt like all the air was escaping from my lungs. I hadn’t told anyone about it and it was slowly eating me alive from the inside. I wanted to say it out loud, wanted to confide in someone. I wanted someone to tell me that I wasn’t some failure of a human being because of this. I blinked back tears. Ugh.