by Kelly, A. S.
“She’s fine with her Uncle Nick. Aren’t you?”
“Oh, fuck! Why are you all here?” Ryan’s voice pipes up. He leans down to Chris and gives her a long, deep kiss, that makes us all fall into an uncomfortable silence.
“Where were you?” she asks as soon as he tears away from her.
“We have some news.”
“We?”
Ryan nods and we all turn to follow his gesture. Evan is standing there, in front of us, a smile stretching from ear to ear.
“What…?” Chris asks, getting to her feet.
“I did it, Mum.”
Chris’ hands fly in front of her mouth.
“I got into university.”
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Chris jumps up, throwing her arms around Evan. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” She yells excitedly, leaping up and down with Evan still trapped in her arms.
I glance at Nick as everyone enjoys the scene, watching him stare at Ryan, whose eyes are fixed on his family. I see pride and happiness reflected in that gaze. And love – so intense, so pure. But in Nick’s eyes, I see something different. Pride, definitely, but also sadness – or maybe pain, I’m not sure – but I know that his happiness is clouded by something trying to burst at his seams.
“Oh my God! Evan’s going to university! I can’t believe it’s actually happening!” Chris exclaims, her spirits sky-high.
“Wow, thanks, Mum!”
“Come here, both of you,” Chris says, pulling the two men in her life into her embrace. They both wrap their arms around her tightly, practically squishing her between them. Being stuck between two guys as huge as them should be terrifying – but instead, you can see the trust, the tenderness.
“We went out early this morning to wait for them to post the results. Evan was really nervous,” Ryan explains.
“You could’ve told me! I’d have come with you.”
“I didn’t want to see the disappointment in your eyes if I didn’t get in. So Ryan offered to go with me, just in case it didn’t go—”
“Oh, honey. You could never, ever disappoint me. You hear me? Never. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. So never think that, okay?”
Tears start to well in Chris’ eyes, and Ryan shakes his head. Evan, overwhelmed by all his mother’s affection, is suddenly bombarded by Ian, and then Riley, who both get up to throw themselves at him.
When everyone finally calms down, Evan sits at the table, trying to regulate his breathing. Nick reaches out and squeezes Evan’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, kid.”
He shakes his head, embarrassed, then says: “Thanks, Nick. You were the one who gave me that extra push to really go for it.”
It takes all of my strength not to burst into tears at the sight of this; at their words, the love between them all, the trust and the pride.
I feel the tears start to prick at my eyes, realising that, one day, I want to be part of all this, too.
56
Nick
Ryan opens the front door and nods at us to go inside. After all the excitement this morning, they invited everyone round for dinner, so that we could celebrate Evan’s results together.
“Everyone’s already here,” he tells us, leading us into the living room.
“Hey, Casey!” Martin says, greeting her warmly from the kitchen.
“Oh yeah, he’s here too,” Ryan comments. “I didn’t invite him – but he’s cooking, so I’ll let him live through tonight.”
Martin approaches us and hugs Casey, before sticking his hand out towards me, which I accept. Usually, I’d have squeezed it so hard I’d have broken the bones in his fingers – I’m not a fan of doctors, and he’s possibly the worst of them all – but it doesn’t seem appropriate tonight. Sending someone to hospital could spoil the festivities. So I shake it brusquely and walk past him.
Casey follows him into the kitchen, where Chris is arranging something on a tray; I join Riley and my brothers, who are already drinking in the living room.
Ryan hands me a beer and sits down next to Evan, who’s talking about which modules he’s going to take, his classes, and all that academic stuff that gives me a headache just thinking of it.
“I see you’re well-prepared,” Riley comments.
“He’s spent every evening in front of the computer for weeks,” Ryan says.
“Well it worked!” Riley continues. “I know you’ll do amazing things, Evan. In sport and in anything else you want to do. And you, Ryan, are a wonderful dad.”
Evan smiles proudly, basking in the compliments showering him from every angle, as Ryan sits there, pretending it’s no big deal. But I know full well that he’s pretty close to locking himself in the bathroom and sobbing; and I think that I’ll join him. As happy as I am for everyone, I feel suffocated, as if something else is pushing against my chest, trying to get out. I’m starting to get tired of keeping it down.
I turn my head a little towards the kitchen, to see what Casey’s up to. She’s as easy and content as always, even in someone else’s house, dropped unexpectedly into the middle of all this madness with a beer in her hand. She’s sitting on Chris’ countertop as if it were her own, laughing and chatting, enjoying the evening; being here with me, with everyone. She’s finally part of something I took away from her all those years ago. She’s taking back what’s hers, in front of my eyes, while I stand there, incapable of slowing it down, of considering what we’re doing; of making a quick decision before it’s too late for us.
“Nick.” Ian sits down next to me.
I turn to him.
“It’s her,” he says, smiling. “You always knew it, just like we always knew it, too. Relax, okay? Just be yourself.”
I nod, giving him a small smile.
“And try not to fuck anything up. From what it looks like, we’ve skipped all the other stages of our plan and rocketed right to the end. The only thing left is the footnote.”
“Fuck your plan and your footnote.”
“What plan?” Martin asks, appearing from thin air.
“How to get a woman in five easy steps: the complete edition for total dickheads,” Evan calls from behind us.
Martin bursts out laughing, grabbing everyone’s attention as they materialise suddenly in the living room.
“What are you talking about?” Casey asks, curious.
“Just about a plan we put together for Nick,” Evan says out of nowhere.
Wow, Ryan. Great work with this kid. You deserve a medal.
“It’s nothing,” I say, trying to end the conversation.
“He asked Ryan and Ian to help him win you over,” Evan goes on casually, pushing me face-first into a huge pile of shit.
“It must’ve been quite an elaborate plan,” Martin comments. “Which stage did I help you with?”
“The first one,” Evan speaks again. “Getting rid of the handsome surgeon.”
Chris explodes into shameless laughter.
“Handsome surgeon, Nick?” Casey asks, one eyebrow raised.
I shrug. What am I supposed to say? I’ve already made an idiot of myself – anything I do will make it worse anyway. At least everyone’s getting a good laugh out of it.
“What were the other stages?” she asks, curious now.
“Get rid of Dr Dickhead – that’s you, Dad – was the second.”
Martin’s glare shoots right over to Ryan, who’s trying to avoid his gaze.
“But, obviously, thanks to me, we skipped that one so that you could help us out.”
“Wow, congrats, Ryan. Great plan,” Chris comments flatly.
“It was just for a laugh…”
Evan touches his shoulder, telling him to just drop it.
“Please, go on,” Martin says, perching on the arm of the sofa.
“Step three: convince her you’re not a dickhead.”
This time, everyone laughs.
“I’m guessing you wrote out this plan, hon?” Chris asks, turning to Ryan who’s prete
nding to be modest.
“Come on, what’s the rest? I’m intrigued.” Martin’s getting a little too used to spending time with this family.
“No, there’s no need to keep going,” I say, standing up. “Is dinner ready yet? Ryan, aren’t you hungry?” I ask, hoping that he’ll take the hint for once in his life.
He looks at me seriously, before shaking his head in disapproval and saving my arse. “I’m starving. And you all know what’ll happen if I don’t eat soon.”
Everyone leaves me alone then, including Casey who, luckily, has taken this all as a good thing. Everyone heads into the dining room and, for the first time ever, I realise that the table has been cleared for its original purpose: eating.
As the others noisily, clumsily take their seats, Ryan grabs my arm.
“What do you want Ryan? Now’s not the time. We’re trying to celebrate with your son.”
Ryan doesn’t flinch. He looks at me with those deep, sincere eyes of his. The same eyes he had as a boy – a boy with a huge heart, which found a place even for me: the brother that betrayed him.
“You don’t have to do it, okay? Not anymore. Please, it doesn’t help that you—”
“What, Nick?”
“You shouldn’t be the one worrying about me. I’m the older brother!”
Ryan smiles at me. “I’m worried about my brother, Nick. It’s natural.”
“I…I don’t…”
“What?”
“I don’t deserve you.”
“Nick…”
“I don’t deserve a single fucking thing. I don’t deserve you, or Ian, or this family, or…her.”
“Jesus, Nick. Why the fuck do you have to do that? Just enjoy the good things in your life. Accept them. Just do it for yourself.”
I shake my head, avoiding his gaze.
“You have to accept yourself, Nick, okay? Once you start to accept yourself, she will, too.”
I turn to look at the dining table, where she’s happily sitting in the middle of my family; I wonder if that’ll be enough for her. Whether she could wake up one day and realise that this could be the biggest mistake of her life.
57
Casey
“So, have you had enough of the O’Connors yet?” Nick asks me, leaning against his car.
“I really enjoyed it.”
“I’m glad.”
He leans down towards me, brushing his nose against mine.
“Tired?”
“A little.”
“Do you want me to help you relax?”
I look at him, curious. “I don’t think that what you have in mind will help me relax.”
“How do you know what I have in mind?”
“Please, Nick. We both know exactly what’s going through your mind right now.”
“Okay, so it’s more or less the same thing I’m always thinking about. But I could always surprise you.”
“Oh, really…?”
He doesn’t say anything else; his eyes speak for him.
I reach up onto my tiptoes and whisper: “Take me back to yours.”
“I had no intention of taking you anywhere else.”
* * *
I lead him into his apartment. Nick closes the door behind him, but doesn’t turn on the lights. He just stands there, behind me, in the deep, dark silence. The only thing I can hear is his breath, growing faster with my own; his confident steps, closing the distance between us. I can feel the heat radiating from him before he’s even touched me.
His lips are on my shoulder, his hand sliding up my arm to brush the hair away from my neck, exposing as much skin as possible. He leans his head down to one side as his hot, wet mouth climbs slowly up towards my ear. He gently nibbles at my earlobe, his hand on my face. I turn my head to him and his lips press against mine, delicately exploring my mouth before his tongue slips inside, seeking out my own. I turn my whole body to face him and he wraps his arms around me. His hands are in my hair, pushing against the nape of my neck and steering me into his increasingly frantic movements.
He pushes me backwards, until my calves press against the sofa. I’m forced to sit down, as he leans over me, his hands leaning against the back of the sofa behind me. His mouth is still desperate for mine, his kisses growing more passionate, almost violent. He slips slowly down my neck, nibbling me gently until he gets to my breasts; he kneels down in front of me, his kisses still weaving their trail, before placing his hands on my knees and moving my legs apart.
I hadn’t realised I was holding my breath until his hands start to slide up my thighs, making me sigh loudly. They keep going, disappearing under my dress; when his fingers brush lightly against my underwear, a longing moan escapes my lips, letting go of all the built-up anxiety in my body.
Nick looks at me, slipping one finger underneath the fabric of my panties. He wants to watch the effect that he has on me, what his touch can do to me. What he can unleash in me.
He wants to see me burn up in my own personal hell. And he wants to burn with me.
He slides one finger inside me, making me push myself forwards, towards him. His eyes are fixed between my legs, watching what he’s doing to me.
Seeing his hand playing between my legs excites him – I can feel it in the tension of his movements, the shortness of his breath. His lips are slightly parted, ready to attack.
He slides a second finger inside me. He doesn’t push deeply – he plays around, torturing me; he wants to see my agony, wants to watch me crumble under his touch. He follows the movement of his fingers with his eyes; he strokes my labia, tracing its contours, before gently pushing inside. I’m almost crying out in frustration, as he continues this cycle, never tearing his eyes away from what he’s doing.
“Nick…” I beg him.
His eyes jump up to meet mine.
“Please…”
He pulls his hand away and stands up, heading for my mouth.
“You never have to beg me, Casey. Right now, your pleasure is the only thing I care about.”
I very nearly come just at the sound of his words.
He kisses me again, pushing his body against mine and forcing me to lie down; his hands are running down my sides, slipping under my dress again, looking for my panties. He grabs the waistband and slides them along my thighs, down to my ankles. His hands climb back up my legs, brushing lightly against the inside of my thighs. I part my legs instinctively, hoping that he’ll stick to his word.
He massages my arse, before grabbing hold of it and flipping me onto my front. His hands are running frantically over my skin. I can feel the desire in his fingertips as they press into my flesh: longing, demanding. One hand slides slowly along the curve of my lower back, before slipping between my legs. His other hand is on my hip, lifting me onto my knees and holding me there. His fingers are inside me again, pushing deeper this time. I arch my back and move my hips towards him: I want him, right now. I’m done with his games. I want him to take me, because my body’s about to explode. I need him to set me free.
He’s pressed against me, his arm wrapped around my waist, keeping me up. His fingers are moving, pushing me to the limit.
I move instinctively towards him, begging him to finish it now; but he holds me still with his arm.
“Relax. I’ll take care of it.”
I do as he says, enjoying the sensation of his fingers sliding in and out of me, bringing me to climax; I’m about to shatter into a thousand pieces.
His breathing grows faster, and so do his movements, the tension becoming almost unbearable. My knees start to give way. If he weren’t keeping me up, I’d have crumbled face-first onto the sofa by now.
“You feel that, Casey?” he whispers into my ear. “This is what I want. You: all to myself.”
“God, Nick…yes!” I try to move myself against him again, and this time he lets me, loosening his grip and placing his other hand on my butt, echoing my own movements. His pace quickens: I’m so close to the limit, ready to break at any seco
nd. His desire tumbles over me, and heat explodes from between my legs. I let out a liberating yell that leaves me breathless. His pushing slows, as he waits for my orgasm to take over me completely, before slowly letting me go. His hand caresses my flesh, then pulls away gently, letting me flop breathlessly onto the sofa.
Nick stretches out on top of me, but holds his weight up on his arms, peppering me with slow, gentle kisses on my neck and cheek.
“I almost came, too, you know.”
I smile against the cushion.
“You’re so beautiful like that… Your face all pink, your eyes tired. And an expression that tells me you just got exactly what you wanted.”
And he’s right. I really have got exactly what I wanted. And I’m not talking about the sex.
I’m talking about Nick O’Connor.
I’m happy.
And I could never want anything else.
58
Nick
“I can’t believe it. You’re finally about to show me your pièce de résistance?” Casey asks, teasing me as she leans against the bathroom door.
“I told you, you need to relax.”
“Then what was that on the sofa?”
“That was to relax me.”
She bursts out laughing, shaking her head. “Your magic jacuzzi. I don’t even want to think about how many women you’ve used this little relaxation technique on.”
I grab her by the waist and spin her towards me.
“No one, Casey. And no other woman has ever been in this apartment.”
“Nick, you don’t have to…”
“I have to say it. You deserve to know.”
“O-okay,” she stutters uncomfortably.
“Now, let me show you how to really relax.”
I take her hand and she sits on the side of the bathtub, as I light the last few candles.
“Wow, you’ve thought of everything. Candles, music… Is this supposed to convince me to do something I don’t want to?” she jokes, before slowly lowering herself down into the water. “Oh, my God!”
