The Cad and the Co-Ed
Page 21
“Oh,” she breathed, nodding thoughtfully. She was quiet for a moment as she very gently stretched my knee. She was being hesitant and far too careful in her movements, but it still helped to relieve the ache a little.
I continued talking, hoping it might make her more comfortable. “Yeah, take it from an old dog who’s been through the ringer, you’re better off steering clear of all that partying and heavy drinking business. People your age think they’re invincible, free to do whatever they want, but believe me, there’s always a price to be paid.”
She stiffened at this, almost like I’d insulted her. “I’m nothing like most people my age.”
Her statement made me curious. “No?”
“No,” she answered, giving no insight into why.
“Yeah well, that’s a good thing, I guess. I just turned thirty and only now am I starting to appreciate all the things I used to think were boring. You know Will? Will Moore, the American, built like a brick wall?”
She nodded.
“I don’t know if you saw yesterday when you stopped by, but he and I live together now. And keep this between you and me, but most of the time we’d both prefer to stay in and play Scrabble than go out clubbing with the rest of the squad,” I said and winked.
Then I tried not to grimace because I’d just winked at her.
Why the hell am I winking?
She gave a light chuckle, “Yeah, I think I guessed that from the episode outside your neighbor’s apartment.”
I didn’t let her comment faze me, instead I plastered on a carefree smile. “I’ll have you know women all over the country would be queuing up to catch a glimpse of me in my PJs. You should count yourself lucky.”
“Oh really?” she challenged. “Who are these women? The same ones who go to Daniel O’Donnell concerts and play bingo on a Friday night?”
I glared at her playfully. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I don’t know why any man would sleep naked when they could be wearing a pair of flannel jimjams.”
She gave me a funny look, blurting, “You’re sort of unexpected, do you know that?”
I shrugged and flashed her a toothy grin. “I like what I like.”
She returned her attention to stretching my leg. When she relieved a particularly sore spot, I let out a pleasurable groan. She looked up at me and our gazes locked. For a moment she appeared transfixed as her hands continued to work their magic. I knew she had more in her though, so I encouraged huskily, “Don’t be afraid to be rough. I’m tougher than I look.”
Something in my tone made her freeze, her hands withdrawing into her lap. A moment of quiet passed before I asked, “Eilish, are you okay?”
“Yes, I just . . . I forgot myself for a moment,” she said very quietly as she shook her head.
I frowned. “You what?”
“I’m sorry, I mean, I forgot to leave off some forms at HR. I need to go.”
“Right now?” I asked quizzically.
She nodded very fervently. “Yes, right now. Put an ice pack on your knee and keep off it for at least thirty minutes.” And with that she hurried from the room.
. . . Ooooookay.
I replayed our conversation in my mind, trying to figure out if I’d inadvertently offended her. Sure, she’d gotten a little huffy when I’d stereotyped her age group, but something told me that wasn’t it.
Two years ago, I wouldn’t have given a flying feck if a beautiful woman got huffy with me. They’d mostly still be up for a quick shag anyway. Yeah, I wasn’t that impressed with the man I was. But, I wasn’t him anymore. And Eilish wasn’t just a beautiful woman.
No, there was something up with Eilish Cassidy, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t determined to find out what.
***
“What’s the story with your cousin?”
“Pardon?”
“Eilish. I bumped into her earlier over in physio. She doesn’t seem to like me much.” I claimed the spot next to Sean on the grass and stretched.
He gave me the side-eye. “What did you say to her?”
“Oh, of course you think it’s something I said. I was a perfect gentleman, but you’d swear I was Charles bloody Manson, judging by how she couldn’t get away fast enough.”
“She’s shy,” said Sean, not meeting my gaze.
Shy? Ehhhhh no.
The way his jaw stiffened told me he wasn’t telling me the whole truth. My brain worked overtime, wondering if maybe some dickhead had treated her poorly and now she hated men. Or maybe she just found me “unsavory” because I had a reputation and she was a Cassidy. The family were notorious snobs.
“Well, she’ll have to get over that pretty fast if she’s going to work with the team. No room for shyness when you’re feeling up muscled rugger buggers for a living.”
“She’s a trainee physiotherapist, Leech, not a goddamn happy-endings masseuse,” he said.
I smiled wide, taking satisfaction in riling him. “Is there a difference?”
At this he reached over and gave me a slap on the head. “Yes, there’s a difference, fuckface, and you know it. I swear if you so much as make one wrong turn with her, I’ll end you.” He paused, his voice lowering when he continued, “She’s been through a lot.”
I put my hands in the air. “Relax, I’m joking. I’ll behave around her, I promise.”
He made a low sound in the back of his throat and returned to stretching. I couldn’t stop wondering about what he meant when he said she’d been through a lot. It was out of the ordinary for me to be this curious about a virtual stranger.
I continued talking, hoping it might make her more comfortable. “Yeah, take it from an old dog who’s been through the ringer, you’re better off steering clear of all that partying and heavy drinking business. People your age think they’re invincible, free to do whatever they want, but believe me, there’s always a price to be paid.”
She stiffened at this, almost like I’d insulted her. “I’m nothing like most people my age.”
Her statement made me curious. “No?”
“No,” she answered, giving no insight into why.
“Yeah well, that’s a good thing, I guess. I just turned thirty and only now am I starting to appreciate all the things I used to think were boring. You know Will? Will Moore, the American, built like a brick wall?”
She nodded.
“I don’t know if you saw yesterday when you stopped by, but he and I live together now. And keep this between you and me, but most of the time we’d both prefer to stay in and play Scrabble than go out clubbing with the rest of the squad,” I said and winked.
Then I tried not to grimace because I’d just winked at her.
Why the hell am I winking?
She gave a light chuckle, “Yeah, I think I guessed that from the episode outside your neighbor’s apartment.”
I didn’t let her comment faze me, instead I plastered on a carefree smile. “I’ll have you know women all over the country would be queuing up to catch a glimpse of me in my PJs. You should count yourself lucky.”
“Oh really?” she challenged. “Who are these women? The same ones who go to Daniel O’Donnell concerts and play bingo on a Friday night?”
I glared at her playfully. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I don’t know why any man would sleep naked when they could be wearing a pair of flannel jimjams.”
She gave me a funny look, blurting, “You’re sort of unexpected, do you know that?”
I shrugged and flashed her a toothy grin. “I like what I like.”
She returned her attention to stretching my leg. When she relieved a particularly sore spot, I let out a pleasurable groan. She looked up at me and our gazes locked. For a moment she appeared transfixed as her hands continued to work their magic. I knew she had more in her though, so I encouraged huskily, “Don’t be afraid to be rough. I’m tougher than I look.”
Something in my tone made her freeze, her hands withdrawing into her lap. A moment of quiet passed before I asked, “Eilish, are you okay?”
“Yes, I just . . . I forgot myself for a moment,” she said very quietly as she shook her head.
I frowned. “You what?”
“I’m sorry, I mean, I forgot to leave off some forms at HR. I need to go.”
“Right now?” I asked quizzically.
She nodded very fervently. “Yes, right now. Put an ice pack on your knee and keep off it for at least thirty minutes.” And with that she hurried from the room.
. . . Ooooookay.
I replayed our conversation in my mind, trying to figure out if I’d inadvertently offended her. Sure, she’d gotten a little huffy when I’d stereotyped her age group, but something told me that wasn’t it.
Two years ago, I wouldn’t have given a flying feck if a beautiful woman got huffy with me. They’d mostly still be up for a quick shag anyway. Yeah, I wasn’t that impressed with the man I was. But, I wasn’t him anymore. And Eilish wasn’t just a beautiful woman.
No, there was something up with Eilish Cassidy, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t determined to find out what.
***
“What’s the story with your cousin?”
“Pardon?”
“Eilish. I bumped into her earlier over in physio. She doesn’t seem to like me much.” I claimed the spot next to Sean on the grass and stretched.
He gave me the side-eye. “What did you say to her?”
“Oh, of course you think it’s something I said. I was a perfect gentleman, but you’d swear I was Charles bloody Manson, judging by how she couldn’t get away fast enough.”
“She’s shy,” said Sean, not meeting my gaze.
Shy? Ehhhhh no.
The way his jaw stiffened told me he wasn’t telling me the whole truth. My brain worked overtime, wondering if maybe some dickhead had treated her poorly and now she hated men. Or maybe she just found me “unsavory” because I had a reputation and she was a Cassidy. The family were notorious snobs.
“Well, she’ll have to get over that pretty fast if she’s going to work with the team. No room for shyness when you’re feeling up muscled rugger buggers for a living.”
“She’s a trainee physiotherapist, Leech, not a goddamn happy-endings masseuse,” he said.
I smiled wide, taking satisfaction in riling him. “Is there a difference?”
At this he reached over and gave me a slap on the head. “Yes, there’s a difference, fuckface, and you know it. I swear if you so much as make one wrong turn with her, I’ll end you.” He paused, his voice lowering when he continued, “She’s been through a lot.”
I put my hands in the air. “Relax, I’m joking. I’ll behave around her, I promise.”
He made a low sound in the back of his throat and returned to stretching. I couldn’t stop wondering about what he meant when he said she’d been through a lot. It was out of the ordinary for me to be this curious about a virtual stranger.
