NICK: O’Connor Brothers #3

by Kelly, A. S.

  “Stupid question! Both.”

  Nick laughs, before passing me the plate in his hands. “Way ahead of you. I know what you like, Casey,” he says, before joining me on the grass, his feet bare, too.

  Mr O’Connor slowly gets up from his chair and moves towards Nick, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  “You’re finally back,” he says.

  Nick sits there, looking up at him for a while, before placing his hand on top of his father’s. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

  I can hear all the regret and pain weighing down his words, filtering through the cracks in his voice.

  Mr O’Connor smiles wordlessly, before walking away to join his wife.

  Nick clears his throat and turns his attention back to me. “He has his moments, you know…” He’s lying. Nick is telling me a lie that I’m going to pretend to believe; right now, he needs to keep this emotion for himself, and I’d never take it away from him.

  “Anyway,” I say, composing myself and swiftly changing the subject. “It isn’t difficult to work out that I love meat.”

  “True. But I definitely know what else you like.”

  “Oh yeah? And what would that be?” I ask, taking a bite of my burger.

  “I know you like the feeling of your bare feet on the grass. I know that you love sport, and you’re competitive – maybe even more than me. I know that you eat like a slob, and you handle your drink probably better than I do. I know that you’re intelligent, you’re fun and you’re spontaneous.”

  “I eat like a slob?!” I ask, offended.

  “Watching you eat is terrifying.”

  I shake my head, falsely annoyed.

  “And I know that you can’t pretend anything: not when you’re with me.”

  “Maybe I’m pretending right now?”

  “And you can’t lie.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” I warn him. “Besides, all these things are so obvious. They’re things I liked years ago, too – things that everyone knows.”

  “Then let me find out what you like now,” he says, leaning closer. He gently presses his lips between my neck and my shoulder, and my body shivers at the contact.

  “You’re burning,” he says, pulling away slightly, sliding his sunglasses on and glancing at my shoulders. “You’re boiling.”

  Another shiver climbs up my spine at the mention of those words from his perfect mouth. The same mouth that just touched me.

  “Don’t you use sun cream?”

  “I hate being smeared in that stuff. You know that.”

  He smiles. “Yeah, I know. You see? I’m very informed when it comes to you.”

  “Let’s just say that you’ve studied, but you’re falling behind. For example,” I say, leaning in towards his ear, “you don’t know that I like being on top.”

  Nick splutters on his beer, starting to cough.

  “Well, you said you wanted to know what I like now, so…”

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fall asleep now without that image in my mind.”

  I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I can’t help myself. With Nick, I’m just…me. The girl who likes sport, who runs barefoot through the grass. The girl who laughs, who knows how to have fun. Someone who’s light-hearted, who lives in the moment.

  With Nick, I’m just Casey.

  And it’s exactly what I was missing.

  “Not until you prove to me exactly how much you like being on top.”

  “Er…” Someone clears their throat behind us.

  “I don’t want to interrupt this…er…discussion…”

  “What do you want, kid?”

  “Do you seriously like being on top, Casey? Because, you know, if you like…”

  “Hey!” Nick springs to his feet, planting himself in front of Evan.

  “Look, I’m not a loser like him. I don’t need help to get a girl. Besides, I’m young, I’m strong…talented…”

  I burst out laughing. “I’m sure you are, Evan. But maybe we can talk about it in a few years. What do you reckon?”

  “Counting on it,” he says, winking at me.

  “Do I have to come over there and rip your balls off?” Nick threatens him.

  Evan stands his ground, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He looks at Nick, satisfied.

  “Anyway, I came here to tell you that we’re about to have a match.”

  “Who?”

  “I have to take down Ryan, and I need a team.”

  “A team?” I jump to my feet, too. “I’m ready.”

  “Obviously, you’ll be on my team, Casey.”

  “Do you want those balls shoved down your throat?” Nick asks.

  “Obviously,” I respond, teasing a frustrated sigh out of him.

  “Come on, then. The others are already out front.”

  Evan turns and heads inside, as I collect up the plates and bottles from where we were sitting. I go to follow him, but Nick stops me with one arm.

  “It’s not going to happen, Casey.”

  “What…?” I say, halfway between confusion and amusement.

  Nick steps closer to me, placing his hands on my shoulders before sliding them slowly down my arms, sending vibrations trembling through my whole body.

  “Not with him, not with anyone else. Not in two years, not in a thousand years. From now on, all that it’s going to happen is you and me.”

  34

  Nick

  “O’Connors versus outsiders,” Ryan says.

  “Outsiders?” Chris flares up right away. “Did you just call me an outsider, Ryan?”

  “It’s just so we can split the teams. Don’t take it personally!”

  “Well, try not to take it personally that you’ll be sleeping on the sofa tonight.”

  “Finally, this is getting interesting,” Martin comments.

  “Who invited you?” Ryan swings round to face him. “Aren’t you scared of ruining your magical doctor’s hands?”

  “Can we just get on with it?” Evan asks, losing his patience.

  We’re in my parents’ local park. It isn’t really a proper rugby pitch – it’s more something that a few kids probably threw together – but for a family match, it’s more than enough.

  “You ready to lose, O’Connor?” Casey challenges me, her hands balled tightly into fists by her side. Her face is reddened by the sun, her hair wild, her eyes wide and alert. I can see the adrenaline coursing through her body.

  My God, I really missed this.

  “You know, it would be more exciting if we were playing for something,” she continues.

  Exciting? Was this not enough? My trousers are basically wrapped around my dick. But sure, Casey – we can make it interesting.

  “If we win – which we will – you have to go out with me.”

  She studies my expression for a while.

  “Somewhere I choose, under my conditions.”

  “I’m not getting under you, O’Connor,” she says, suggestively.

  “Seriously? We have to play just so you two can have sex?” Ian asks, stamping all over my bravado. “Don’t you have any other ways of getting women into bed with you?”

  “What, like you have any, Ian?” Riley challenges him, one eyebrow raised.

  “Okay, you guys are making this way less fun than it should be,” Evan gets the final say. “We’re just playing. That’s it. O’Connors versus non-O’Connors.”

  “You guys’ve already lost,” Ryan says, pulling his T-shirt over his head. “We’re unbeatable.”

  “Oh, please. You’re old. And you have…other stuff to think about.” Evan glances at me.

  “Why are you looking at me?”

  “Coincidence…”

  “Oh, fuck off…”

  “Okay, boys,” Casey intervenes. “Enough chitchat. Show us that you’ve still got it.”

  “Still?” Ryan shoots back. “Look, I’m—”

  “Yeah, Ryan, we all know,” Chris says, grabbing his arm and dragg
ing him to the centre of the pitch.

  “You ready to lose?” Casey asks, stepping in front of me.

  “And are you ready for the night of your life, with yours truly?”

  “I see you’ve found your confidence again…” she says, swanning past me.

  I grab her arm and spin her around. “The only thing I’m confident about is that, before tomorrow evening, you’ll be in my bed.”

  She flashes me a challenging smile. “Let’s just see how good you are, first,” she says, tauntingly, before joining the others in the middle of the field.

  Three O’Connors against five ‘Outsiders’ – this should be a piece of piss. But, apparently, age holds you back – especially for me – because I can’t seem to catch a pass, or run fast enough. Although, we’re up against three women, Martin and Evan. Sure, Evan’s young and he’s strong, but the others? Come on.

  “Feeling the pressure, O’Connor?” Casey plants herself in front of me, ready for the next round.

  “What about you? Are you ready to feel the pressure of something else?”

  My question throws her slightly – just long enough for me to receive Ian’s pass. I jump ahead, ready to run to the try line, but someone launches themselves at my back, wrapping their arms around my neck and their legs around my waist. I lose my balance, but before I can fall flat onto my face, I turn myself around, falling onto my back instead. It really fucking hurts – but when I open my eyes and see her hair in my face, I forget the pain. I forget the huge idiot I’ve just made of myself; I forget the fact that my brothers are standing there, taking the piss a few metres away.

  None of that fucking matters.

  Casey is lying on top of me: and, damn it, she looks really good there. I guess she was right – she really is best on top.

  “Good job, O’Connor. You got tackled by a girl.”

  I laugh, because I couldn’t give a fuck that she tackled me.

  “Maybe I did it on purpose.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Maybe I wanted to see what you looked like on top of me.”

  She smiles cheekily, before lifting herself up – but I grab her waist, forcing her to fall back on top of me again. Our eyes are locked in conversation, in a language that neither me or Casey even understand; but it doesn’t matter. The important thing is that they’re connected – that they know how to communicate things that we aren’t capable of saying to each other.

  I rise onto my elbows just enough to press my mouth against hers. In the middle of the pitch. Splayed out on my back. With her straddling me. In front of my family.

  I don’t waste any time: my tongue is in her mouth, taking back everything that rightfully belonged to me. Her sweet taste merges with the saltiness of sweat; my hands are tangled in her damp hair, pulling her against my body, mixing our scents into one. Casey bites down on my lip – and there’s no gentleness about it. She’s almost ripping it from my face, as if it was one of those juicy steaks she loves so much. Jesus Christ, she’s eating at me as if I was her favourite food.

  Go on, Casey. Do whatever you want with me. I’ll just lie here on the grass.

  “Can we finish this match now?”

  There he is. My useless brother, interrupting one of the most exciting moments of my life.

  Casey pulls away from me, but there’s a twinkle in her eyes that spreads across her whole face. She gets up easily, while I lie there helplessly on the floor, unable to move – something huge and embarrassing between my legs is weighing me down.

  “Do you need a hand?” Evan asks, appearing above me.

  This kid is starting to look a little too much like Ryan: always appearing just when you don’t want him to.

  “I’ve got it. Thanks.”

  I pull myself back to my feet with no trouble, as he stands there facing me, his hands on his hips.

  “Don’t let her go again. Or, I swear to you, I’ll make a move,” he says, his face serious, evoking a strange mixture of hilarity and blind jealousy in my stomach.

  I watch Casey go back over to the others, wiping the sweat from her forehead with her arm and taming her hair back into its unruly ponytail. She takes her position back in the centre, her legs bent and her hands on her knees.

  I see her there, with me. With my family. I see her claiming back everything I took from her. I see her, taking her rightful place in the world.

  Like fuck am I ever letting her go again, Evan.

  She’s already mine. And now, I’m starting to believe that she always has been.

  35

  Casey

  I step out of my apartment, trying not to make any noise. I quietly pull the door shut behind me, tiptoeing down the driveway, where I can see my dad sitting comfortably on the sofa next to Mrs Reynolds. I swear, I’m going to give that woman a medal soon.

  After their first date, they seem to have got over the initial awkwardness – so much so that, like tonight, she’s perfectly comfortable to come round for dinner and watch a DVD. She’s been an angel in distracting my dad’s attention away from me, and the huge mistake I’m about to make.

  I quickly sneak down the driveway just in time to see Nick’s car pulling up. I run towards the passenger side and throw the door open, jumping inside and sliding down as far as I can into the seat.

  “Drive! Go!” I cry, raising my voice.

  Nick flicks on the ignition and reverses out into the road.

  “Nice to see nothing’s changed,” he comments sarcastically.

  “Funny!”

  “Are you scared of being seen with me?”

  “I’m just trying to save your life.”

  “I know how to look after myself.”

  I sit back up and look at him.

  “And I think you should tell him.”

  “Tell him…what?”

  “That you’re going out with me.”

  “Really? We’re going out?”

  “What did you think this was?”

  “I don’t see why we have to put a label on it so soon,” I say, staring out the window.

  Nick sighs next to me. “You don’t think this should move forwards, do you? You don’t believe in it.”

  “In what?”

  “In us,” he says, serious.

  “I don’t think there is an us, Nick. There’s dinner tonight, which you’ve dragged me to.”

  “You seemed to have a very different idea yesterday when you kissed me in the middle of the park.”

  “Actually, you kissed me.”

  “But you didn’t pull away.”

  I turn to him. “You know this is crazy, right? You just turning up again after eight years, trying to…what? What are you really trying to do? Apart from get me into bed, obviously.”

  Nick gives me a small smile. “I’m trying to do the right thing.”

  “Mmm?”

  “To act like the good guy. To do the right things, to convince you that we were made for each other. And sure, my bed is involved in the plan a little – but so is my sofa, my dining table, my shower, my jacuzzi…”

  “I knew you had one of those,” I accuse him.

  Nick laughs without flinching.

  “So you have a plan, then?”

  “You bet I do.”

  “And what happens, according to this plan?”

  “You’re about to find out,” he says, his eyes fixed firmly on the road in front of us.

  This was such a bad idea. I should never have accepted that stupid bet – and, more importantly, how the hell did I lose? Okay, so the O’Connors are rugby champions, but we really gave it our all, exploited every ounce of our femininity. I really thought we could beat them. I’d have loved to see Nick defeated. But, instead, here I am: sitting in his car, heading for God-knows-where, swept up in his charm, his aftershave. His breathing is suffocating, my body fighting against my desire with everything it’s got.

  We drive across the whole city, heading towards South Dublin. I gaze out the window, trying to
work out where Nick is taking me; when I see him cross through Dublin 4, I realise where we’re going. And it’s not a good thing.

  Nick parks at the shore. We get out of the car and I’m immediately hit by a wave of salty air, wafted by a light breeze that muffles the strength of the sun on your skin.

  I feel him step closer and place his hands on my shoulders, and I close my eyes, breathing in the mix of scents that surround me. They’re light and pleasant – but they’re too much to bear.

  “Do you like it?” he whispers into my ear.

  “You know I love the sea.”

  Even though I can’t see it, I know he has a satisfied smile on his face.

  “I’ll go and get us something to eat. Go find your favourite spot – the beach is all ours.”

  I turn to face him. “The beach?”

  “Did you think I was going to take you to one of those touristy restaurants where you have to shout to hear each other?”

  I look at him, curious.

  “Tonight, it’s just you, me and the sea,” he says, with that voice that knows just how to nestle itself under my skin.

  My God. I’ve gone right back to being that girl in the pool.

  And he’s my Nick again.

  * * *

  I tread along the pathway that leads to the beach, slipping off my shoes. I sink my toes into the sand, walking almost up to the waves, before sitting down with my legs crossed, enjoying the peace and the beauty of this place. The sound of the water lapping at the rocks to my right, a few hundred metres away; the sun, just starting to dip below the horizon, but still casting its sweet, colourful glow.

  “Here we go,” Nick appears from behind me, sitting down next to me and dropping his shoes onto the sand. He has a paper bag in his hands, along with a plastic one filled with bottles.

  That’s definitely not a good thing.

  “I got you a burger, a hot dog, and a battered sausage,” he says, placing the bag down on the sand. “And some chips, obviously. With loads of vinegar. Just how you like it.”

  Okay, Nick O’Connor. You want your Brownie points, I get it – but you’re not playing around, here. You know these things far too well.