The Cad and the Co-Ed
Page 15
Incompetent. Like a failure. Like a parasite.
I released a silent sigh and closed my eyes, endeavoring to gather my scattered thoughts. “I appreciate everything you’ve done and continue to do for us. I do.” I affixed my eyes unseeingly out the passenger side window. “You saved my life, more than once. But, you have to understand, I’ll never be able to repay you, I’ll never be able to—”
“Have I asked for repayment?” He slowed as we approached the light in front of the complex, gentling his voice. “We’re family, E.”
“I know,” I said, but I shook my head at the word, because we both knew being family didn’t always equal love and support.
But family meant something to Sean. And it meant something to me.
The rest of our relatives? Not so much.
“You simply must allow me to spoil my nephew,” Sean demanded haughtily, pulling a smile from me. He liked to play the snob but I knew underneath all his bluster was a big old softie.
As an example, Sean—who had no brothers or sisters—called my son his nephew, though they were technically cousins. In return, Patrick called Sean “Monkey Sean,” which was Patrick’s version of Uncle Sean.
Again, I shook my head. “You mustn’t buy Patrick such elaborate gifts. First of all, I have nowhere to put the television. My apartment is far too small.”
“Then get a bigger place. There’s a penthouse available in my building.”
I wasn’t going to dignify that with a response. “And second of all, it’s not good for Patrick to be spending so much time playing video games.”
Sean frowned. “It’s not?”
“No. It’s not, especially not on his own. Maybe . . . maybe you could keep the game system at your place? Then, when we come to visit, the two of you can play together.”
“That’s an idea.” Sean nodded, his eyes brightening as he pulled into the parking garage. “It could be our special thing. I’ve already missed so much time with him.”
Ugh. Right through the heart.
I suppressed the now familiar guilt Olympics.
We’d arrived at the sports complex, and today was my first day at my new job. Now was not the time for me to be simmering in my regrets.
“Sorry,” Sean offered solemnly. “I didn’t mean to imply—”
“It’s fine.” I waved away his apology, forcing cheerfulness into my voice. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s just that, I wish you would have let me help sooner.” Sean pulled into his assigned parking spot but didn’t cut the engine. “You are excessively stubborn.”
I chuckled, my head falling back to the headrest, and repeated myself for perhaps the millionth time, “I did what I thought was right at the time, and I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner. God, you have no idea how sorry I am.”
I felt Sean’s hand close over mine and squeeze. “Yes, well, never mind that. Nothing to do about it now. Just keep reminding yourself that your dashing cousin Sean is always right in all things, and life will miraculously become less burdensome.”
I twisted my mouth to the side, lifted my eyelids—just a sliver—and peered at him. “Really? All things, eh?”
His lips twitched and I knew he was remembering the cornucopia of times over our childhood where he was most definitely not right in all things. I was just about to remind him of the time he’d fed our family dog orange sherbet, which had led the dog to leave orange puddles all over the carpet, when Sean’s gaze sharpened, growing abruptly sober.
“What will you do if you see Bryan today?”
I winced, turning my face away, and endeavoring to mask my discomfort with a light laugh. “Bryan who?”
Oh yeah, real smooth, E.
I failed at life. More specifically, I failed at not ogling Bryan Leech.
I’d decided that’s what I’d been doing at the party last week and then again yesterday. Even in his ridiculous housecoat, slippers, and spectacles the man was entirely too delicious.
And adorable.
Whoa. No. No, no, no. I pushed that thought away. I could not and would not think about Bryan in terms of being adorable.
Lust. Lust was safe. Any straight woman with a pulse would feel lust for Bryan Leech. I’d been ogling the man. Every time I forced my gaze away, it sought him out. I’d felt like an addict, devouring him with my eyes, promising myself that each glance would be the last . . .
But so it goes when one loses one’s virginity to a mystical, gorgeous creature with an enchanted penis.
Sean heaved a frustrated sigh. “Eilish.”
“Sean.”
“Pretending you don’t know to whom I’m referring is a shite strategy.”
“Sean—”
“You should get to know him.”
“Stop—”
“Ask him out for a drink.”
“Please—”
“On second thought, don’t do that. It would be exceptionally awkward. Poor bastard is a teetotaler now—can you believe, mint tea?—and he even seems to like it. Come to think on it, you don’t drink much either.”
“Sean, enough!” I snapped, immediately regretting my tone. I let my face fall into my hands, taking a moment to push back the rush of anxiety, and mumbling through my fingers, “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, darling. I know you’re not getting much sleep.”
I released a silent sigh and closed my eyes, endeavoring to gather my scattered thoughts. “I appreciate everything you’ve done and continue to do for us. I do.” I affixed my eyes unseeingly out the passenger side window. “You saved my life, more than once. But, you have to understand, I’ll never be able to repay you, I’ll never be able to—”
“Have I asked for repayment?” He slowed as we approached the light in front of the complex, gentling his voice. “We’re family, E.”
“I know,” I said, but I shook my head at the word, because we both knew being family didn’t always equal love and support.
But family meant something to Sean. And it meant something to me.
The rest of our relatives? Not so much.
“You simply must allow me to spoil my nephew,” Sean demanded haughtily, pulling a smile from me. He liked to play the snob but I knew underneath all his bluster was a big old softie.
As an example, Sean—who had no brothers or sisters—called my son his nephew, though they were technically cousins. In return, Patrick called Sean “Monkey Sean,” which was Patrick’s version of Uncle Sean.
Again, I shook my head. “You mustn’t buy Patrick such elaborate gifts. First of all, I have nowhere to put the television. My apartment is far too small.”
“Then get a bigger place. There’s a penthouse available in my building.”
I wasn’t going to dignify that with a response. “And second of all, it’s not good for Patrick to be spending so much time playing video games.”
Sean frowned. “It’s not?”
“No. It’s not, especially not on his own. Maybe . . . maybe you could keep the game system at your place? Then, when we come to visit, the two of you can play together.”
“That’s an idea.” Sean nodded, his eyes brightening as he pulled into the parking garage. “It could be our special thing. I’ve already missed so much time with him.”
Ugh. Right through the heart.
I suppressed the now familiar guilt Olympics.
We’d arrived at the sports complex, and today was my first day at my new job. Now was not the time for me to be simmering in my regrets.
“Sorry,” Sean offered solemnly. “I didn’t mean to imply—”
“It’s fine.” I waved away his apology, forcing cheerfulness into my voice. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s just that, I wish you would have let me help sooner.” Sean pulled into his assigned parking spot but didn’t cut the engine. “You are excessively stubborn.”
I chuckled, my head falling back to the headrest, and repeated myself for perhaps the millionth time, “I did what I thought was right at the time, and I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner. God, you have no idea how sorry I am.”
I felt Sean’s hand close over mine and squeeze. “Yes, well, never mind that. Nothing to do about it now. Just keep reminding yourself that your dashing cousin Sean is always right in all things, and life will miraculously become less burdensome.”
I twisted my mouth to the side, lifted my eyelids—just a sliver—and peered at him. “Really? All things, eh?”
His lips twitched and I knew he was remembering the cornucopia of times over our childhood where he was most definitely not right in all things. I was just about to remind him of the time he’d fed our family dog orange sherbet, which had led the dog to leave orange puddles all over the carpet, when Sean’s gaze sharpened, growing abruptly sober.
“What will you do if you see Bryan today?”
I winced, turning my face away, and endeavoring to mask my discomfort with a light laugh. “Bryan who?”
Oh yeah, real smooth, E.
I failed at life. More specifically, I failed at not ogling Bryan Leech.
I’d decided that’s what I’d been doing at the party last week and then again yesterday. Even in his ridiculous housecoat, slippers, and spectacles the man was entirely too delicious.
And adorable.
Whoa. No. No, no, no. I pushed that thought away. I could not and would not think about Bryan in terms of being adorable.
Lust. Lust was safe. Any straight woman with a pulse would feel lust for Bryan Leech. I’d been ogling the man. Every time I forced my gaze away, it sought him out. I’d felt like an addict, devouring him with my eyes, promising myself that each glance would be the last . . .
But so it goes when one loses one’s virginity to a mystical, gorgeous creature with an enchanted penis.
Sean heaved a frustrated sigh. “Eilish.”
“Sean.”
“Pretending you don’t know to whom I’m referring is a shite strategy.”
“Sean—”
“You should get to know him.”
“Stop—”
“Ask him out for a drink.”
“Please—”
“On second thought, don’t do that. It would be exceptionally awkward. Poor bastard is a teetotaler now—can you believe, mint tea?—and he even seems to like it. Come to think on it, you don’t drink much either.”
“Sean, enough!” I snapped, immediately regretting my tone. I let my face fall into my hands, taking a moment to push back the rush of anxiety, and mumbling through my fingers, “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, darling. I know you’re not getting much sleep.”
