NICK: O’Connor Brothers #3

by Kelly, A. S.

  Casey is at ease with this whole situation. We slept together, we had sex. We kissed, explored each other’s bodies. We were there for each other – and now she’s ready to just leave it all behind, as if nothing had happened between us. As if what we shared meant nothing to her. I’ve watched this same scene so many times in the past; it’s almost a part of me, the same way it’s always been when I’ve slept with a woman and I didn’t even want to stay until the sun came up.

  It’s a scene that makes my chest feel empty, as if there’s a huge chasm opening itself up and swallowing my life, burying me under all the shitty mistakes I’ve ever made. They weigh me down inside – and I’m starting to think that they’re weighing her down, too.

  “Don’t do it,” I say suddenly, leaning against the back of the sofa.

  She turns as she fiddles with the laces of her shoes. “What?”

  The sentence comes straight from my stomach, leaping up my flaming throat, trying to find the right way out.

  “Don’t go.”

  She stops and looks at me, a frown etched into her face.

  Please, Casey. Don’t leave. I know that, if you leave now, I’ll lose everything. I want you to stay; I want you to sleep next to me, waking up tomorrow morning with my mouth on yours. I want to see you wandering naked around the house, opening my fridge, drinking my coffee.

  I want to see you in my life. And I want you to stay there.

  “Stay,” is all I manage to say.

  And I don’t know what it is, this thing that’s churning around inside me – but it makes me imagine things I’ve never considered before. Things I never thought would be possible, but are starting to make me believe that I can’t go on without them. I can’t help it.

  “I want you to stay.”

  My God, what have I been doing with my life? Who was I? I used to roam around, empty, waiting to go back to the point I started at. But, Casey, I could never survive anywhere that isn’t next to you.

  “I have work tomorrow. You’d have to drop me home really early.”

  Please, stay. Fill me up, Casey. Fill the void that I have in my heart. The void that’s taking over my whole fucking life. Fill it up with your eyes, your smile; your jokes, your teasing, your happiness and your kindness.

  Fill it with you.

  Because I know that I was the one who left. I was the one who walked away, who broke your heart. But right now, the only one who’s broken, who needs to be put back together, is me.

  Pull me out of the flames, Casey. Take me to your paradise.

  “That’s okay. I just want you to stay with me tonight.”

  “Are you asking me? Or are you ordering me?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

  “I’m begging you.”

  Her eyes are uncertain. I can see them flickering, trying to read mine, to work out whether I’m being serious, or whether this is just another one of my stupid jokes.

  Then a smile spreads across her face, and I feel the flames slowly start to recede.

  “You’re not joking.”

  Her voice – and my heart – are trembling now.

  “I’m being deadly serious.”

  She studies me for a few moments, maybe to prove to herself that I’m not lying, before kicking off her shoes.

  “Is there any cheesecake left?” she asks.

  And suddenly, my breathing is easy again.

  50

  Casey

  “What are you doing?”

  His voice startles me from behind.

  “Sorry, I was trying not to wake you up,” I say, sipping at the cup of coffee I made myself. “I have to leave soon, and I won’t have time to eat at home, so…”

  “So you thought you’d eat by yourself?”

  “I was going to leave some for you.”

  “You know the only thing I really want.”

  I smile instinctively. “Well, you’ll have to wait a while for that. Apart from the fact that I have to go soon, I’m still a little tender from last night.”

  He approaches me slowly. “That doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”

  “I’m sure it doesn’t.” I turn my head to glance at him.

  “So you wouldn’t have even said goodbye?”

  “I’d have left you a thank-you note.”

  He bursts into laughter behind me.

  “I’m polite, okay? What’s wrong with that?”

  “What did you want to thank me for?”

  “Well, firstly, for dinner. For the wine, the dessert, and…those two orgasms—”

  “Two?” he says, cutting me off. “It sounded like three to me.”

  I turn off the hob and move the frying pan with my eggs aside. I turn around completely to admire his beautifully sleepy face, his tousled hair, his tired eyes. Then my gaze falls a little lower, realising that Nick is totally naked.

  My God. Apparently this man is allergic to clothes.

  “Two, three…what difference does it make?”

  “Loads of difference.”

  “I’m sure you’ll make up for it.”

  “You can count on that.”

  “Coffee?” I ask, handing him my mug.

  “What are you wearing?” he asks me instead, looking at me.

  “Oh, this?” I say, gesturing to the T-shirt I have on. “It was the first thing I found. It was just thrown over the back of a chair. Why does it have Coach written across it?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I’d like to hear it.”

  “Didn’t you say you were in a rush?”

  “I’m sure I can stay another few minutes,” I say, turning my attention back to the hob. I take a fork and stick it into the eggs. “You know, while I’m eating.”

  “I want to eat, too.”

  “There’s some here for you.” I try to turn around, but he stops me.

  “I don’t want that,” he says, making my knees knock together.

  His hands slide up my thighs, brushing under the T-shirt. They run over my butt, before climbing my body to find my breasts.

  “Nick…” I sigh, leaning my head back. “I’m serious, I still ache from last night, and—”

  “Let me take care of it.”

  He pushes me against him before moving me aside and pressing me up against the fridge; he traces a hand up my back, leaving a trail of flames. He bends down to the floor, kneeling on the ground in front of me. He’s still grabbing my butt, and I place my palms against the door, looking for something to steady myself – otherwise I don’t think I’ll be able to stay standing.

  His fingers squeeze around my arse, lifting me up. I feel his breath tickling my skin, before his tongue brushes against me.

  “I’ll be gentle with her.”

  His voice vibrates right onto my flesh.

  When his tongue flutters against me again, I feel my legs start to give way. He plunges it inside me, his hands still grasping my butt cheeks; I close my eyes, leaning my forehead against the cool fridge door.

  Nick holds me up by my bum, making sure that he doesn’t move me, as his mouth tortures me, relieves me; he pulls me down into the inferno, then shoots me up into paradise. When he sucks my labia, as if he were starving and they were the only food left in the world, I arch my back and push my hips back towards him. I can’t do anything but let him devour me, until he’s full.

  My movements make him press his face into me and push his tongue in even deeper, excited by what I’m doing – and by what he’s doing to me.

  I can feel the heat of his breath, his moans, his darting tongue. I feel them in my mind, enveloping me.

  I can feel it everywhere.

  His hands slide to the front, gently caressing my swollen clitoris. His fingers are confident, as if he knows exactly where to touch, how to push me to my limit. As if he knew his way perfectly around my body. As if it had always belonged to him.

  I collapse under his touch, longing to feel Nick on every inch of me.

  He tickles my pussy with his lips
and his fingers, torturing me with this sweet agony. Soon, it’ll be fatal. He pushes two fingers inside, robbing me of my breath; he moves them, confident in what he’s doing, impatient to see me crumble. Greedy to feel my body react to him.

  He’s enjoying every moment just as much as I am.

  When I feel the familiar heat of orgasm start to spread through my body, Nick quickens his movements, guiding me to climax; making sure that he doesn’t miss a single shiver.

  I yell, slamming my hands against the fridge as I feel him groan into me, as if my orgasm had projected into him.

  Nick lets my body tremble, right until the last vibration. Then he slowly stands up, his hands sliding up my arms, wrapping around me once they reach my shoulders. I push myself back into him, as he nestles his nose into my ear.

  “Breakfast is my favourite meal,” he says, voice dripping in seduction.

  I think it’s my favourite now, too.

  51

  Nick

  “Why the long face? Are you sad because all this is already over?” Jamie asks, winding me up as the kids do their final warm-up of the summer.

  “I can’t wait to be rid of your fucking face.”

  “Come on. It wasn’t so bad in the end.”

  “It absolutely was.”

  “Shame…”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “There’s a position open for you.”

  I look at him, waiting for him to spit it out. Why does he always have to speak in code?

  “The junior team are looking for a coach.”

  “Are you taking the piss?”

  “I thought you might be interested.”

  “What? Going from coaching uncoordinated kids to coaching brainless teenagers? No, thanks.”

  “Do you have any other options?”

  “I’m sure I’ll come up with something.”

  “As usual.”

  “You know I always land on my feet.”

  Jamie smiles. “Even cats waste their nine lives eventually.”

  “What have cats got to do with it?”

  “How many lives have you got left, Nick? From what I’ve seen over the past few years, not many.”

  I sigh and sit down on the stands. “One, Jamie. I only have one left.”

  “Then make sure you don’t waste it. I’d miss your stupid face.”

  I smile tightly at him as he walks away, calling the kids in for a team meeting. I bet they’re all just as excited as me for this little adventure to be over.

  At least it’ll be one less thing to think about – even though I have no idea what I’ll do tomorrow. I haven’t come up with a plan yet, what with everything else that’s been going on. And to be honest, I don’t even know what I want to do. Maybe I’m not ready to look for a new career path – especially not if it’s a step up. I’m getting old. Everyone keeps telling me so; I might not make the climb. I don’t think my lungs or my legs have the strength anymore. I may not get the chance. Or a future.

  “Hey, coach.” One of my little protégés approaches me. “We’re ready for the match. Are you coming?”

  I stand up. “Are you seriously ready? Ready to be tackled, to have people jump all over you? Ready to fall face-first into the grass and shatter your bones?”

  He looks at me without batting an eyelid. “Yeah, we are. Are you?”

  The unbearable, destructive pain spreading through my chest gives me the only response. And it isn’t one I wanted to hear.

  * * *

  “Just think about it,” Jamie says to me as we’re in the changing rooms. “It wouldn’t be so bad.”

  “I’m not cut out for teaching, for being around kids. I’m not…”

  “What aren’t you, Nick?”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready to stay.”

  Jamie nods, sitting down on the bench next to me. “What’s the problem?”

  “I wasn’t honest.”

  “With who? With her?”

  I shake my head. “With everyone.”

  “You’ve got yourself into some shit again, haven’t you?”

  I smile bitterly. “Maybe.”

  “And you don’t know how to get out of it.”

  “I don’t know everyone’s going to take it. And I don’t know if I can face the truth.”

  “Just how much shit are we talking here, Nick?”

  “Loads, Jamie. And I’m starting to drown in it.”

  “So we need to get you out of it, then.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “Everyone has a few skeletons in their closet. We keep them there, waiting for the right person to open it up, without being frightened.”

  “What if they’re terrified?”

  “Then they’re the wrong person, mate.”

  “What if I’m the one who’s wrong? What if she’s perfect, while I don’t fit?”

  “Don’t fit what?”

  I scoff, letting my head fall into my hands. “I can’t.”

  “What can’t you do?”

  “I can’t give her what she wants.”

  “What are you talking about, Nick?”

  I lift my gaze to meet Jamie’s, and my own reflection nearly makes me crumble right there.

  “Nick…” he rests his hand on my shoulder. He squeezes it tightly; but not to hurt me. Because he knows I need hm. He’s the only one that will understand.

  After all these years, it only takes me twenty minutes to go back to the old Nick: the weak, scared little boy. The one who almost lost everything. The one I hid away in the closet, replacing him with who I am today. The one I deprived of air, just so that I could breathe.

  After all these years, I find myself telling someone what it is that’s wrong with me: why I became who I am. And why I’m so scared to give him up.

  52

  Nick

  I nervously jiggle my knee up and down as I sit in the white plastic chair, rubbing my hands against my jeans. I’m trying to calm myself down, relieve my anxiety of being here again.

  I rest my elbows on my knees and drop my head into my hands, trying to pull more air into my lungs and avoid another panic attack. Suddenly, a familiar pair of shoes appears underneath me.

  I lift my head quickly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t think you cared.”

  He sits down on the chair next to me. “I’d have come with you. Always.”

  “Not in the last few years, you wouldn’t.”

  “You know exactly why.”

  I lean back against the seat. “Then what’s changed?”

  “It’s time to move on.”

  I smile inwardly. It looks like everyone is ready to move forward except me.

  “Did Mum tell you?”

  “I asked her. I knew it was roughly around now, I just didn’t know the exact date. And I want you to know that, in the last few years I was always behind you – even if I wasn’t around to show it.”

  Fuck you, Ryan.

  Did he really need to make me feel even more guilty than I already do? I almost destroyed his life, and here he is now, next to me. Where he’s always been.

  What the fuck did I do to deserve him?

  “Nervous?” he asks, without meeting my gaze.

  “Nah.”

  “Nick… You don’t have to do that. Not with me.”

  “I’m used to it.”

  “I know how difficult it is every time. And I don’t think you’ll ever get used to it.”

  I sigh heavily. “It just feels like I’m taking a step back, into who I was and…I don’t want to. That’s all.”

  “It’ll be okay.”

  “I know.”

  Ryan places his hand on my shoulder, and I take a deep breath. Because as nervous as I am, as much as I don’t want to admit to my fear, my brother’s support is more painful than anything else.

  It makes no sense: him being here should comfort me. His affection s
hould give me strength. Instead, it only digs up old memories of all the stupid mistakes I’ve made, and the fact that I’ve always been forgiven by everyone, even when they shouldn’t have. I know that he’s here, letting me completely back into his life – and I don’t know if I’ll ever deserve it.

  “Thanks, Ryan,” I say quietly.

  “No worries, bro.”

  We fall into silence. Ryan knows I don’t like talking in situations like this – I prefer to ignore what’s happening, just like I ignore everything serious that comes my way. Just like I pretend that nothing’s important, nothing bothers me or causes me pain. Ryan knows not to try and fill the silence; I don’t need distractions. I need to face this head-on, so that I can move past it.

  The door in front of us opens. Ryan’s the first to jump to his feet, possibly even more anxious than me – he takes everything to heart. For him, everything is a reason to suffer; everything Ryan feels is amplified, dangerously sensitive. It makes him weak sometimes, even though he tries to hide behind his tough-guy exterior. But I’m hardly one to talk: I know what he’s like, just as he knows what I’m like.

  I get up slowly, shoving my hands into my pockets – but when I see the last person I ever thought I’d find here, something inside me shatters.

  His face is masked in shock and fear. He didn’t expect to see me here, either.

  We look each other in the eye for a few moments, undecided as to whether to say anything, or to pretend that this meeting never happened. Then he clears his throat.

  “O’Connor.” My name escapes through his gritted teeth.

  “Coach Madigan.” His name comes right from my stomach.

  “I never thought I’d see you here, kid,” he says, his usual threatening tone gone. There’s a glimmer of sincerity in his eyes.

  “Me neither, sir.” I take as deep a breath as I possibly can, before asking him: “Do you reckon you could not mention to Casey that you saw me here?”

  The coach nods. There’s a pain in his eyes now, heavy and pressing, that transmits into my own.