by Esme Devlin
Stevie nods while I spill out my feelings to her. “What things did he tell you?”
I pause for a beat. I don’t think I could or should tell her. I know normal best friends keep nothing from each other, but I don’t feel like I can do that to him. “Just stuff from his childhood. Nothing major, but it can’t have been easy to open up, you know?”
“Yeah, he doesn’t strike me as the ‘let’s talk about feelings’ type. Im gonna try to clear you a little nook in this wardrobe,” she announces, getting up and crossing the room.
“Hmm… I don’t know. I think he puts out this image to the world but actually, if you get under all that, he is a ‘feelings’ guy.” I shrug. “Need a hand?”
“No, don’t be daft, I’d lose you in here,” she says, down on her hands and knees with her head poked inside it. She clears her throat and shouts over, “So are you two like, official now?”
Good question. We’ve not really said it, but then again maybe that’s what he meant when he asked me to ‘join his team’. I blush and look away, probably pointless because she can’t even see me. “I think so.”
Not one to throw any punches, she pops her head up and sits back on her knees, glaring at me. “Well, as your new adoptive parent, you need to get your arse to the chemist and get yourself on the pill.”
“Adoptive parent?” If I had tea in my mouth, I’d be spitting it out. “You’re funny.” Funny but right. “No, I know. I keep meaning to do it but with everything that’s been going on, not having the car… I’m going to do it ASAP.”
“You’re so blasé — you’re giving me the fear. Hang on.” She dives into the bathroom and comes back with a strip of pills in her hand, throwing them onto the bed beside me. “You can give me a packet back when you get around to sorting it out. One a day, same time every day, and it doesn’t work if you throw up. I have a cousin in Aberdeen who learned that the hard way, apparently,” she says, winking.
I laugh at her expression. “Thank you.”
By the time the weekend rolls around things seem to have settled down a little. I haven’t spoken to my dad and since Liam’s not been back at school, there’s been no problems. I’ve packaged up all that shit and shoved it into a corner in my head. It still hurts, of course, but I feel like I’m trying to live with it, rather than letting it get the better of me.
And to be honest, I’ve not had the chance to overthink things too much.
I think they’re all purposefully trying to keep me busy to take my mind off things.
It’s Friday night and Stevie’s dad, Mark, is cooking fajitas for us all.
Stevie and I sit at the kitchen table with her little brother, Darren, who can’t be older than eleven and apparently has a better social life than we do. He’s just come in, panting and covered in mud, and is already asking how long dinner is going to take because he has people waiting on him.
“Wait, you actually have friends?” Stevie asks with a face full of mischief.
Darren looks across the table from her, to me, and back again. “More than you do — loser.”
“Pity you’ll never have a girlfriend with a face like that.” She flicks her eyebrows and shoves a whole tortilla chip into her mouth.
“Wouldn’t have one anyway,” he argues. “Girls don’t even like football.”
I let my mouth drop open in pretend shock and laugh at him. “Loads of girls like football!”
Stevie picks up a tortilla chip and throws it in his face. “I could tan your arse at football you little shit.”
“Stevie, mind your tongue,” her dad says from the cooker.
Darren laughs and points his finger at her, giving her a silent row. “Watch your tongue, bitch,” he whispers.
The pan is so hot that Mark wouldn’t have caught it even if he’d been listening.
“Oh, I’ll have you grounded for a week for your cheek,” she says.
“Stop winding him up!” I tell her, laughing at both of them.
My phone buzzes on the table and I flick it unlocked.
You’re still due me that date. Get you at 7pm. X
I’m still not getting used to the way he just assumes he’s going to get whatever he demands… but in the spirit of making an effort…
Where are we going? I need to know what to wear. I only have a few things here.
Well, slightly more than a few but it’s not like I have a full wardrobe at my disposal and Stevie’s dresses are… he’s made his feelings clear on Stevie’s dresses.
Leggings. Trainers. If you’re wanting me to knock the oooohs and aahhhs out of you later, then stick a wee crop top on as well darlin. Love heart eyes emoji.
Stevie must catch me smiling into my phone like a pathetic little gimp because she clears her throat. “Lover boy??”
“Lacey has a boyfriend?” Darren pipes up. “Uuuugh.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I tell him, laughing at his disgusted look.
I open up my chat with Stevie. Yup. He wants to go out tonight…
I see her phone buzz and light up on the table, and to anyone else this would be the most obvious secret text conversation that ever occurred… but Darren is the type of kid who’s on another planet and is too busy stuffing his face with tortilla chips to notice.
My phone buzzes. Well, you can go on a date with him or you can stay here and watch Britain’s Got Talent with me and the old man?????
I look up at her and she’s smirking at me.
I type back, Thanks but eh…… I’ll take my chances with ‘the situation’!
I watch her read my text, she drops her phone on the table in defeat and then says, “To be fair, I don’t blame you doll.”
Dinner is just like any average family dinner on any average Friday night, and it’s lovely. Darren wolfs his food down like he’s never had a hot meal in his life, Mark comes up with generally shit jokes and Stevie acts like he’s the worlds most embarrassing parent. Their mum is a nurse, so she’s working night shift, and I don’t think Stevie has any idea how lucky she is.
I’d take an embarrassing parent and a shit for a brother any day of the week.
I head up the stairs after dinner to get ready and although I skip the crop top, I generally end up looking like I’m going for a jog instead of going for a date.
Oh well, as long as he’s happy.
He beeps the car twice outside and I say my goodbyes to Stevie and Mark. He gets out when he sees me coming and walks around the car to my side, and I think my heart almost stops in my chest.
He’s wearing slim fit grey joggers and a white top that shows off his muscular arms and hard stomach. A thick silver watch lines his wrist and when he stands there and smiles at me, something deep inside me flutters.
In fact, fuck that, it gallops.
“You alright, darlin?” He bends down when I approach and plants a kiss on the top of my head before opening the door for me.
I slide myself into the passenger seat. “Good yeah, how are you?”
He slams the door shut and walks around the car. “Good, aye… would be better if the crop top had made an appearance but beggars can’t be choosers,” he says, winking at me while he starts the car up. “You look gorgeous though, as always.”
That distinctive smell fills the car and I remember exactly why it’s so hard to resist him.
I’m fucking weak.
“What are we doing, anyway? I’m warning you, I can’t run the length of myself so if you’re planning anything like that you will be sorely disappointed.”
He chuckles. “Calm your tits, I’m not going to make you run. How is life at Stevie’s house?”
I look over at him when I catch the jealous edge to his tone and laugh. “It’s good. Really good, actually. They’re all so welcoming; they’ve basically taken me in as part of the family.”
He laughs and glances over at me. “Was that a sly dig at my old man? Believe me, that was him playing nice.”
“Your dad wasn’t as bad as I was expec
ting. But I don’t know, it’s just nice to feel like people actually want you around.”
He smiles and picks up my hand, pressing it against his lips. “Everyone deserves that, princess.”
Shaun parks the car outside a red brick tenement building that looks like a residential block and I turn to him in confusion. “I thought you were taking me to a gym or something? This looks like a place you’d go to do a drug deal.”
He flashes me a smile and unclips both our seatbelts. “This is the gym. My gym.”
I follow him and he leads me down a set of stone steps to a basement level. He unlocks the door and flicks the lights on, and we continue down a long, sage green corridor til the end.
When he turns the corner and switches the next set of lights on, I can see he wasn’t lying.
Bright yellow walls surround us, the farthest covered in head-height pads and the nearest with hooks for coiled skipping ropes. The ceiling is high for a basement, and ventilation tubes snake around the tube lights. Metal poles form a grid below that, with red and black punchbags hanging down above the blue mat floor.
To the far side of the room sits a boxing ring, all black and nothing too grand.
“I’ve not been in here since…” He pauses and looks around the room.
I take pity on him and help. “The accident?”
He smiles, although it’s not a happy one. “Aye.”
I take a few steps forward and give a little half-assed knock to the ball that’s attached to the floor and the ceiling by strings. “Why did you bring me here now?”
“I’m gonna teach you how to throw a punch that’ll break a jaw, remember?”
I roll my eyes at him. “I remember, didn’t think you’d take me so seriously, though!”
He comes up behind me and takes my shoulders in his hands, rubbing his thumbs firmly towards my spine. “I seem to remember it being a deal,” he says, chuckling.
My head rolls at the pressure but it feels amazing. “I made a deal that involved stepping into a boxing ring with the mighty Shaun Keagan? Must have been high on adrenaline or something.”
He laughs. “I’ll go easy on you. I’m rusty as fuck anyway, you’ll be running rings around me in no time. Come on,” he says, taking my hand and leading me over to the ring.
I follow his lead, splitting the ropes and sliding through the gap. “Don’t I need like gloves or something?”
He shakes his head. “No gloves, no pads. I want to see what you’re doing with your hands. You’ll get gloves when you’ve earned them.”
I laugh at him and how seriously he’s taking this. “I just didn’t want you getting yourself hurt,” I tease.
He shrugs before his face breaks into a smile. “I reckon I probably deserve it. Now show me how you’d stand if we were going to fight.”
I put my fists up over my boobs and he quickly taps me on the cheek. So I move them up to my cheeks and he taps me on the stomach. “I thought you were supposed to be teaching me?”
He laughs, and when I bring my arms down to protect my stomach, he taps me on the cheek again. “I’m teaching you the why first.” He takes my fists and pulls my thumb out from under my fingers. “You do this, you snap that thumb,” he says, before resting it on my middle finger. “You’re right handed?”
I nod at him.
“Swing with your right, jab with your left,” he tells me.
“Okay, I’ll do that. What’s the difference?”
I laugh when he rolls his eyes. “Right hand here, above your jaw. Keep your arm in tight. Left hand here. You’re gonna jab with this, aim for my neck.”
He takes my left fist and pulls it out, turning it slightly before I reach his neck. “I want to aim for your jaw,” I tell him.
He starts laughing. “You land one on the throat and the person is forgetting he even has a jaw. Again.”
I do what he says, jabbing him with next to no force and aiming for his neck while he fires orders at me. “Chin down.” Another one. “Tighten your stomach.” Another one. “Right hand’s slipped, get it up on your cheekbone unless you want a dislocated jaw.” Another one.
“Am I getting it?” I ask him, blowing my hair up off my face.
“You’re better than you were when you walked in,” he says, shrugging.
I give him another jab for that, and just as I do, he nuts me right in the fucking stomach.
I let out a moan, doubling over and giving him a face that screams WTF.
“Your stomach wasn’t tight. Clench your muscles and I’ll do it again.”
I back away. “You’re not fucking doing that again!”
He nods. “Trust me.”
I look at him like he’s the least trusted person in the world, but I clench my stomach muscles, because I know he will do it, anyway.
This time when he punches me, it hurts, but it doesn’t knock the wind out of me like the first one did.
“See?”
He flicks his eyebrows at me in a know-it-all way and I jab him again, right on his tit. “Yeah I see, smart-ass.”
He chuckles, taking my wrists in his hands and pulling them up to his lips. “Congratulations, princess. You’ve graduated to the good stuff.”
I laugh, letting him pull me forward until my body is pressed against his hard one. “I’ll be a machine by the end of the night.”
“If you’re gonna be Mrs Keagan, you’re gonna have enemies. Comes with the territory. I’ll sleep better at night knowing you’re not such a pussy,” he says, knocking me back but keeping my wrists held tight so I don’t stumble.
“Oh great. As if having Mr Keagan Jr for an enemy isn’t enough??”
He laughs, dropping my wrists and looking at my stomach. “I’m your ally, you little shit.” I sense it coming and clench hard, right before he lands the blow. This one doesn’t hurt. He chuckles. “Good girl.”
He’s smiling at me like I’m a beloved pet and he’s just taught it a new trick.
“Okay, what’s the good stuff?” I ask him, stepping back and putting my arms back to the position he showed me.
“The money shot. You’re gonna use your right hand for this one and twist your whole body for extra force,” he says, moving behind me and taking a hold of my wrist again. “Cross it over your body like this.” He pushes my arm out for me, the other hand grabbing on to my hip and twisting my body. “Get this hand on your cheek, tuck your elbow in.”
I do what he says but I’m barely concentrating. He’s so close I can feel him breathing down on my cheek. I turn my head and look up at him, only to see he’s not looking at my fist, he’s looking straight back at me.
His pupils are wide, turning his eyes even darker than normal and I have to look away because I’m scared I’ll get lost in them if I look too long.
He pulls my arm back in, crossing it over my chest and I feel like a puppet, like I’ve lost control of my body and he can make me do whatever he wants.
He pulls my hip in tight against him and I feel his hard length pressed against the small of my back. I glance up again and he’s looking at my lips. My breath catches. “Shaun,” I breathe, because I don’t know what else to say.
He bends down and runs his lips along my neck, and a moan slips out as shivers run straight down my spine.
I try to gather my senses, the ones he’s taking from me so fucking easily. “You’re supposed to be teaching me how to fight,” I tell him.
“Then fight,” he whispers, nipping my neck with his teeth.
“What’s the point?” I ask him, pushing my head back against his chest. “You win every time.”
He chuckles into my ear. “And every time I do, you get a bit stronger.”
The heat from his breath collides with my cheek and his hand grips on tight to my hip, making my heart-rate pick up. “You get a bit smarter.”
His other hand drops my wrist and runs over my chest, pushing my breasts up until he finds my neck. He squeezes, not enough to cut off the air, but enough to let me know I’m b
reathing only because he’s allowing me to. “You get to take a little bit of power away from me.”
He spins me around and places a finger under my chin, tilting my head up and forcing me to look at him. “So fight.”
“Fine.” I push him. All the things he just taught me about stance, about jabbing and positioning and twisting go out of my head, but it feels good.
Pushing his chest with the force of my whole body feels a hundred times better than knocking him gently with my fist.
He grins while he takes a step towards me. “I’ll make sure you enjoy the losing, darlin.”
I take a step back and it’s like we’ve entered into a sick dance, one where he stalks me and I avoid getting caught. “I’ll make sure you don’t win easily.”
He chuckles while he follows me casually around the ring. “What you going to do? Try your hardest to keep your clothes on?”
I shake my head at him, stopping in my tracks and sliding my t-shirt over my head before throwing it over the edge of the ring. “Wouldn’t give you the satisfaction,” I tell him, shrugging.
He stops too while his eyes rake over my bare midriff, up to my chest and finally rest on my face. Smirking, he does the same, pulling his t-shirt up to reveal that damned V, and the hard stomach above it.
His eyes lock on mine instantly, and he drops the shirt on the ground in front of him, a look on his face like he’s daring me to go and pick it up.
I move away until my back is up against the ropes.
“You need to give me some satisfaction,” he tells me, amusement glinting in his eyes.
“I need to? What you gonna do?”
He stalks over to me now, and I run. I can’t help it. Excitement pools through every fiber in my body and it’s like a drug, a high like I’ve never experienced before.
It doesn’t take him two seconds to catch me, his arms coming from behind me and wrapping me up tight against him.
He squeezes and I feel the air jerking out of my lungs. “Okay stop! You win.” I’m half laughing, half begging.
One arm circles my chest and the other one comes around my neck. “What are you gonna do, princess?”
