by Magan Vernon
I sighed. Putting on a front in the office was one thing, but there was no bullshitting with her. “I am. It’s just not that easy.”
“What’s not easy about it? You like him. He apparently likes you, if he’s willing to help your dear Nana out.” She frowned. “Honey, something is going on with this screen. It keeps freezing and then beeping. Do I need to call a nurse to help?”
I grimaced, glancing at the blinking light at the corner of my messages. “No, it’s just because Ray is still trying to message me. I hit ignore, but he keeps calling back.”
“Ray? That guy who always wore a baseball cap, even inside? I thought you finally broke it off with him months ago?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
I scrubbed my hands over my face. “I did, he’s just not getting the hint.”
She pressed her lips together. “Look, you’ve always been a sweet girl. Sometimes too much for your own good. You’ve done the best you can with my son and your mother’s situation. You’ve helped me out more than I can ever thank you for. But sometimes you need to put on your good heels and be a bitch. You need to tell that Ray that it’s over. Don’t be nice and say you can be friends. He needs to hear the truth. Tell him that you’ve fallen for someone else. Then you go and kiss that Irish hunk right on the lips, and you tell him that you want to be his lucky charm, or something I don’t want you to say in front of your grandma.”
“Nana…”
She waved her hand. “Don’t Nana me. I have sixty years life experience on you. And I can tell you that the truth is the best thing you can give someone.”
She held up her hand and looked at her watch. “Now I have to catch my bridge game, but message me again tomorrow, okay? I want to hear what happens. Just not the details you shouldn’t tell me.”
I forced a small smile and nodded. At least she was finally getting out of her room now that I’d signed her up for some activities. “Okay. Love you.”
“Love you, too. Goodbye.”
“Bye.”
With that, I hung up the call then finished the rest of my glass of mead in one gulp. Then I stared at the empty glass. If I was going to have a conversation with Ray and try to be a bitch, then I was going to need some liquid courage and something stronger than mead.
I headed to the cabinet and pulled out Connor’s whiskey, taking a big swig straight from the bottle. The warm liquid burned all the way down my throat.
I winced, shaking my head, then poured another glass of mead. I took another big gulp of that, and then a shot of whiskey. After a few more drinks of each, I decided that was enough liquid courage. I didn’t want to puke all over the computer screen, and my stomach already was in knots.
With the alcohol burning in me, I slumped into my computer chair.
I could go through with this. Not just telling Ray about Connor, but the other thing Nana suggested, too. The way the drink made my head buzz, I started to think I’d be okay with telling anyone anything.
Finally, I opened the video chat icon and clicked Ray’s name.
The screen lit up blue, and the dial tone played, green dots flashing under his photo—the picture of him in his backward ball cap and smirk that I used to think was cute. But now all I could think about was Connor in his hat and that dimpled smile that always made me weak in the knees. I had to focus on my breathing whenever he was around just to make sure I didn’t pass out.
“Finally, you’ve answered. I was starting to think you were ignoring me.” Ray’s face filled the screen, the background moving with the wind behind him.
Shit. I couldn’t have been so lucky that he’d be at work and ignore the call.
“Hey. Yeah. Just got off work,” I said, trying to be nonchalant and shrugged.
“I just got off work for the day, too, so perfect timing.” The door on his car dinged as he opened it and slid inside the faded interior of his car.
“Oh. Cool.” I nodded, not sure how to even begin this conversation.
“So, a video call? Not just a ‘busy’ text. Must be important. Are you finally ready to leave the job there and come home?” He leaned back in his seat, not even looking at the screen as he adjusted his hat backward and forward over his messy hair.
“Actually, it looks like I’ll be here a little bit longer.”
He curled his upper lip. “A little longer? What the fuck, Fal? This was supposed to be a temp thing, and now it’s been like a year. I told you not to go for this job, but did you listen? Nope. You just did what you wanted to do. Making the solo choices.”
The alcohol swirled in my stomach, and I groaned from a mixture of nausea and anger. “You’re such an ass, Ray.”
He let out a laugh through his nose. “That’s typical. You make a choice that I disagree with, and I’m the ass. I’ve been waiting for you to come back. I put my life on hold for you. I was going to look at apartments for us, but my credit score still sucks, so nothing gets approved. You need to come home so we can put the place in your name.”
Anger boiled through me, and I clenched my fists. “Really? We broke up a while ago, and I’ve been trying to be nice. But I can’t do this anymore. It’s over. It’s been over. I’m not coming back for you.”
He blinked hard as if maybe things were finally clicking. “Whoa, what’s with all the hate? I’ve been waiting to talk to you, and you’re coming at me hot and not in a good way.”
“I’ve met someone else. You and me, we’re done,” I said as calmly as I could.
“What?” He opened his mouth then closed it again. “Another dude? You’re just giving it up to some Irish guy who fancies a shag or whatever they say?”
I shook my head, my skin burning. I couldn’t tell if it was from the anger or alcohol. “I haven’t cheated on you. We’ve been over. I didn’t even meet him until after I told you we should just be friends. I don’t know if you didn’t hear me when I told you, multiple times, or just didn’t want to.”
He groaned. “I thought that just meant we were on a break. Geez, way to tell it to a guy who’s been there for you. We’ve had our good times, you know? Why this guy? What can I do to change your mind?”
Big tears fell down my face, partially from the alcohol swirling through my head and partly from the gravity of what I was trying to hold back. What I’d been hiding from everyone. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. You and I just weren’t working long distance. I think we both know that it hadn’t been working even before I left. Connor and I just happened.”
“You didn’t have to tell me his name. Is this the guy on your profile picture, too? Dammit, I knew you wouldn’t post a picture with that good looking of a guy and not be with him. Is he that much better than me?”
“He’s a good guy. I’d say you’d like him, but that’s not fair, either.” I sucked in a deep breath and wiped my eyes. I’d been hiding the truth from too many people, and the more I held it in, the more it weighed on me.
“Holy shit, Fal, that dude. Is it Connor Murphy? As in the company you work for? What the hell? I just looked up his profile. Damn. Is this about money? Is he your sugar daddy or something?”
Yes, but not in the way you think.
“I need to go.”
Instead of saying goodbye, I closed the video screen then put my head on the desk. Big sloppy tears fell down my face.
Why the hell was I crying? I was never in love with Ray. That was obvious.
If he figured out this involved money…how soon before other people suspected the same thing?
No. I couldn’t think like that. Connor had done a damn good job convincing people we were really a couple with his sweet words and public displays of affection.
What if things could really work out with Connor? If he did want me as much as I wanted him, then maybe all of this was for the best.
I sucked in a breath, the thought bringing a new warmth to my chest. But as quickly as I thought on it, reality flushed back in.
But what if Connor didn’t want more? What if all o
f this was a mistake and in the end, I just ended up with a broken heart?
And then the tears were back, running down my face and onto my lips as I took big gulping breaths.
“Hey…Hey!” Connor’s voice rang through the room. Then he was at my side, kneeling with his hands on my shoulders. “What’s wrong. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Lifting my head up slowly, I wiped my eyes then looked down to see concern brimming in his beautiful blue eyes. The ones I’d been staring into for over a month and trying to resist because I didn’t want to ruin anything. If the truth was going to set me free, then there was no point in holding back my feelings for him anymore.
Putting my hands on the back of his head and gripping his short hair between my fingers, I crushed my lips to his, finally giving in to his magnificent mouth and the hint of stubble that brushed my top lip.
Parting my mouth to him, my tongue met his. I moaned, all of the adrenaline and courage I’d mustered up now crashing down in an explosive kiss. His arms wrapped around my waist, and I pushed him to the floor so I could straddle his hips and feel his length pressed against me. Nothing was holding me back from him. Nothing but possible regret I was sleeping with a known player I was in a fake relationship with. But what was marriage without a little fun?
I moved my hands from his head, down his chest, and ran my fingers down the curves of his ab muscles through his dress shirt. Then I made my way to his belt. Before I could get any farther, he broke our kiss gently and slowly sat up, pressing his forehead to mine, his breath still on my lips.
“Well, that was hot,” I slurred, wishing I wasn’t so dizzy.
“As much as I’d love to continue this, you taste like whiskey and sadness, and I’m not going to fuck your brains out without knowing why you’re crying. Something happen? Is that headcase of an ex-boyfriend still bothering you? If he said something that hurt you, I swear…” he said, his breathing ragged as he slowly set me on the ground in front of him.
“I told Ray about us, that you’re my boyfriend, and he was all ‘is he a sugar daddy?’ and I didn’t answer,” I said, lowering my voice in a very bad impression of Ray. “Well, at least I think you’re my boyfriend. Because if you are, we should go back to that kissing thing.” I nodded because all of that made sense in my head, and I didn’t want to go deeper into my reasons for crying and the gravity of the feelings I was trying to bury.
“Pinky, what that ex said was just jealousy, and I’m not worried about him,” he said, licking his lips. “As for the boyfriend thing, you know I want nothing more than to taste you… All of you. But not now. Not like this. Not when you’re drunk.”
“What?” I sputtered, trying to hold back the fresh tears springing to my eyes. “Why? Don’t you want me? Did you choose me because you aren’t attracted to me? Is that what this is?”
He shook his head. “You know how bad I want you. Hell, you can feel it.”
He leaned forward, his growing erection pressing against my leg. “But I can’t like this. We can snog. We can cuddle or spoon or whatever the hell it is we’ve been doing at night. But when we do this, I want you to remember it, like I want to remember your every curve and every little moan you make when I’m inside of you.”
I shivered, wanting nothing more than to let him do all of that. To forget about this marriage contract and let it be real.
Slowly he stood up and offered me his hand. “I’m not going to do any of that when you’re not coherent enough to know this is what you want. So, I say we eat dinner and call it an early night.”
“You sound like a grandpa,” I grumbled, helping myself to a standing position. I wasn’t expecting rejection, or for the ache to still fester deep inside of me. I needed physical and emotional relief.
But maybe he was right. Perhaps this would be better when I was sober and could remember it. I nodded and went to the table for dinner.
I wasn’t sure what was going to happen now and what this meant for us. The truth was supposed to set me free, but now all I was feeling was sick to my stomach.
Chapter Fifteen
Connor
Time seemed to slow down.
Fallon barely talked to me at work, saying she was too busy for lunch. When we were home, she made her responses short and went to bed early every night. I didn’t think she’d been sober enough to remember me turning her down, or her fight with her ex, but I was wrong.
Though I’d moved on, trying to bury everything in the back of my head, she hadn’t.
“Morning, pinky,” I said, turning over in bed, where she was curled up in the corner. I put my arm around her warm body, willing her to scoot closer and press her arse to me.
I told myself I needed to let it be. That she wasn’t going anywhere, and we’d both keep our promise no matter what happened. But even as I thought about living the rest of our time together in contempt, my chest tightened.
“I should shower,” she muttered, not even touching or turning toward me. Then she sat up and crawled out of bed, making her way to the bathroom.
I scrubbed my hands over my face, watching her walk away. I couldn’t continue this little game. If we were going to be married eventually, we couldn’t be miserable. It was time to make amends.
The bathroom door opened easily. I had to try and keep my breath steady while looking at the silhouette of her naked body behind the shower curtain.
My cock rose to the occasion, but if I was going to have a serious conversation with her, I couldn’t just shag her. No matter how badly I craved her.
I threw open the shower curtain.
She gasped, turning toward me. Her arms flew across her body as if that could cover the view of her supple breasts. My cock now strained against my boxers.
“Connor! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I clenched my jaw, keeping my grip on the shower curtain so my hands didn’t roam other places. “Do you remember the other night?”
“What? Is this really the conversation we need to have while I’m in the shower?” She turned off the water and grabbed a towel from the rack, wrapping it around her quickly.
“Just answer the question.” I growled, trying to keep my eyes on her face.
“I’m not talking about this. Not now, not ever,” she muttered, trying to push past me, but I grabbed her shoulder gently. With my free hand, I tipped her chin, forcing her not to look away.
Without any makeup or the frames of her glasses between us, I could see just how blue her eyes were. She was a girl who cared for everyone else. The girl who was willing to marry a man just so he could keep his company and her grandmother could stay in a home. Not only was she caring, but beautiful. I couldn’t deny how much I ached to touch her, all of her.
“Do you remember that American gobshite making assumptions about us then you begging me to shag you?” I snapped, and she winced in response.
“Yeah,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’d like to forget that whole thing happened. But it did. Then you rejected me, and now we’re here, with you staring at me in the shower and asking me to relive it all over again.” She glared.
I took her hand and moved it to the bulge in my pants. Her eyes widened.
“You feel that? That’s what you fucking do to me. I’m so turned on by you that I can’t even see straight. I’d rip that towel off right here and taste every bit of your soft skin right now, but I’m not going to.”
“Why? Why even say it?” she asked softly. She still cupped my dick, which made it harder to say what I needed to say.
“Because, if we do this, if you let me take you, there’s no going back. We can’t get pissed off at each other and decide to break off the marriage because of something the other did. I need to know that whatever happens, that we still keep the arrangement. This isn’t just about us and how badly we want to shag.”
She sighed, moving her hand from my aching dick. “Well, that’s one way to let a girl down.”
“I’m serious,” I murmured
, trailing my fingers down to her core.
She gasped, and I kept my gaze on her. “I want you in so many ways. But I know why we’re here. I want you, but I don’t want us to end up hating each other. You know we will if we even start.”
Pulling my hand away took every bit of strength I had. It took even more to turn and walk out the door.
…
Me: Won’t be at the office today. Getting some stuff together for our trip. Need anything before I see you tonight?
Fallon: Maybe a lock for the bathroom door.
I shook my head, sliding my phone into my pocket. Cornering her in the shower wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had. But it was the only way I could get her to listen.
At least it was all out in the open. She wanted me, just as much as I did her. It was time to move forward.
I took the morning off for a meeting across town with an old friend. The small building where he worked blended in with the bakeries and pubs that faced the river Liffey. The only thing that made it stand out was the large cross above the door.
I walked past the people praying in the pews and the paintings of the holy sacraments. Making my way down a small hallway, I came to a room with a few couches and bookshelves.
Patrick O’Donaghue sat in a rocker wearing a plain black shirt and trousers. His dark brown hair was neatly parted to the side, and his dark eyes looked over a well-worn leather book in his hands.
“Do I call you Father Patrick?” I asked tentatively walking toward him.
He smiled, placing a ribbon in his book before standing up and putting his hand out to shake mine. “It’s Brother Patrick. I’m not ordained, but I may have to consider it if the message you left me is right.”
“It is,” I said, following him as he ushered me to a wooden table with two seats.
He sat in one chair, and I took the one across from him as he folded his hands together on the table. “I just saw you a few weeks ago at your da’s funeral. There wasn’t a woman on your arm or anywhere in the picture as far as I understood. Now you’re telling me that you’re looking to receive the sacrament of marriage? Call me a fool, but that seems pretty sudden, especially for someone who’s still grieving.”
