The Player and the Pixie
Page 47
What was it about men who were animal lovers? He’d been such a good sport about everything, working hard, wanting to help. It made my heart go pitter-pat.
The next morning, after sleeping fitfully because my dreams were plagued with ridiculous images of Sean, me, and our future pet—a lovely chocolate Labrador mix with big brown eyes—Annie was up before me. Not surprising given she was on Dublin time, which was five hours ahead.
When I moseyed out to the kitchen I saw she’d laid out a delectable assortment of pastries. This was one of the things I loved most about Annie; the woman had a robust appreciation for pastries.
“Grab an eclair and some coffee,” she called from the living room. “Then we’ll get back to work on your new online persona.”
“Sounds fun.” I grabbed the eclair as instructed. Who was I to argue with chocolate ganache at 8:30 a.m.?
Just as I took my first bite, I heard my phone chime from my room, alerting me to a new text message.
“Be right back.” I spoke around the eclair I was chewing and shuffled back to my room, eyeing the carafe of coffee longingly as I went.
Pulling the cell from my bag, my heart skipped as I read the new message.
Sean: What time are you coming over?
For some unknown reason, I shut my door before I responded.
Lucy: Sorry. I meant to tell you yesterday. Teacher needs a day off to catch up on work stuff. How about tomorrow?
Sean: Where are you? Are you at your apartment? Should I bring you sustenance? Street meat perhaps?
Lucy: Don’t bring food. I’m at my apartment working all day with Annie. She gave me a promotion.
Sean: That’s great. Let me take you out tonight to celebrate. I’ll pick you up at 6.
Lucy: Very funny.
Sean: I wasn’t being funny. Let me take you out.
I frowned at Sean’s latest text message.
Lucy: Bad idea.
Sean: Why?
Was he trying to be cute? Or was he just completely obtuse. I responded on a gust of irritation before thinking through my words.
Lucy: Because I’d rather not have my brother know I’m teaching his archnemesis how to give women orgasms.
He didn’t respond for over a minute. Just as I was about to toss it to the bed, the phone vibrated with a new text.
Sean: Technically you’re only teaching me how to give you orgasms. How do I know if this information is generalizable to all women?
Lucy: Trust me, it is.
Sean: If you’re busy today, perhaps I should conduct a test.
I stared at the last six words he’d just typed, my heart beating in my throat, my face flushing with uncomfortable heat, my chest hurting every time I tried to breathe. I didn’t know why I felt so blindsided. Wasn’t that the point of our lessons? I looked into my bedroom mirror, studied my reflection.
“You’re okay with this,” I said to myself, then cleared my voice when I noted the slight tremor in it. “He’s not meant for you. He’s a rugby player. He’s Ronan’s nemesis. And he’s an arsehole, except when he’s helping groom rescued stray dogs. Don’t be so surprised.”
I thought about adding, You’re good enough, you’re smart enough, and doggone it, other men want to fuck you, but felt like that would be self-affirmation overkill.
I took several deep breaths until my mind calmed and the pain in my chest became a dull ache before responding.
Lucy: Sure! Feel free to try out your new techniques on the women of New York. They can send their notes and gifts of gratitude to my PO box. Have fun!
With that I turned off my phone.
I turned it completely off.
And I buried it under three pairs of jeans in my drawer.
***
We worked all day and into the night, going to bed well after midnight.
I spent the following morning finalizing my new social media accounts and finishing up research for Annie. She and Ronan had already gone to the photo shoot.
I also busied myself trying not to think about what (or who) Sean may or may not have done the night before. Not helping matters, I was reminded of him every time I moved my upper body. I was trying not to feel regretful about doing all those clapping pushups with him three days ago. My arms and abs were bloody killing me.
When lunchtime rolled around I was still in my pajamas. Such was life when you worked from home, and were in denial about being depressed because the guy you’re crushing on was out giving other women orgasms.
I was in desperate need of a shower, so I ventured into the bathroom.
Once out, I blow-dried my hair and put on some tight pale jeans and a floaty tie-dye top. For makeup, I gave myself kitten flicks and painted on some clear lip gloss. I wasn’t going to allow myself to moon over Sean Cassidy.
When I’d finally finished beautifying myself, it was almost time to go meet Annie and Ronan for dinner. They’d left me the address of the studio, telling me to go there and then we’d all catch a cab to the restaurant. I was both excited about and terrified of seeing Sean.
Partially because Ronan would be there with his eagle, cranky brother eyes. And partially because I dreaded learning that Sean had taken his new skills for a test drive last night. But I reasoned it would be just as well. No need to prolong this arrangement, especially since I seemed to be the only one feeling more than I should.
When I arrived, a personal assistant checked to make sure my name was on the approved list and then I was ushered through. There was music on when I stepped inside the spacious, airy studio, busy-looking people milling all about. I caught sight of Annie as she sat on a chair by one of the windows sipping on peppermint tea.
The next morning, after sleeping fitfully because my dreams were plagued with ridiculous images of Sean, me, and our future pet—a lovely chocolate Labrador mix with big brown eyes—Annie was up before me. Not surprising given she was on Dublin time, which was five hours ahead.
When I moseyed out to the kitchen I saw she’d laid out a delectable assortment of pastries. This was one of the things I loved most about Annie; the woman had a robust appreciation for pastries.
“Grab an eclair and some coffee,” she called from the living room. “Then we’ll get back to work on your new online persona.”
“Sounds fun.” I grabbed the eclair as instructed. Who was I to argue with chocolate ganache at 8:30 a.m.?
Just as I took my first bite, I heard my phone chime from my room, alerting me to a new text message.
“Be right back.” I spoke around the eclair I was chewing and shuffled back to my room, eyeing the carafe of coffee longingly as I went.
Pulling the cell from my bag, my heart skipped as I read the new message.
Sean: What time are you coming over?
For some unknown reason, I shut my door before I responded.
Lucy: Sorry. I meant to tell you yesterday. Teacher needs a day off to catch up on work stuff. How about tomorrow?
Sean: Where are you? Are you at your apartment? Should I bring you sustenance? Street meat perhaps?
Lucy: Don’t bring food. I’m at my apartment working all day with Annie. She gave me a promotion.
Sean: That’s great. Let me take you out tonight to celebrate. I’ll pick you up at 6.
Lucy: Very funny.
Sean: I wasn’t being funny. Let me take you out.
I frowned at Sean’s latest text message.
Lucy: Bad idea.
Sean: Why?
Was he trying to be cute? Or was he just completely obtuse. I responded on a gust of irritation before thinking through my words.
Lucy: Because I’d rather not have my brother know I’m teaching his archnemesis how to give women orgasms.
He didn’t respond for over a minute. Just as I was about to toss it to the bed, the phone vibrated with a new text.
Sean: Technically you’re only teaching me how to give you orgasms. How do I know if this information is generalizable to all women?
Lucy: Trust me, it is.
Sean: If you’re busy today, perhaps I should conduct a test.
I stared at the last six words he’d just typed, my heart beating in my throat, my face flushing with uncomfortable heat, my chest hurting every time I tried to breathe. I didn’t know why I felt so blindsided. Wasn’t that the point of our lessons? I looked into my bedroom mirror, studied my reflection.
“You’re okay with this,” I said to myself, then cleared my voice when I noted the slight tremor in it. “He’s not meant for you. He’s a rugby player. He’s Ronan’s nemesis. And he’s an arsehole, except when he’s helping groom rescued stray dogs. Don’t be so surprised.”
I thought about adding, You’re good enough, you’re smart enough, and doggone it, other men want to fuck you, but felt like that would be self-affirmation overkill.
I took several deep breaths until my mind calmed and the pain in my chest became a dull ache before responding.
Lucy: Sure! Feel free to try out your new techniques on the women of New York. They can send their notes and gifts of gratitude to my PO box. Have fun!
With that I turned off my phone.
I turned it completely off.
And I buried it under three pairs of jeans in my drawer.
***
We worked all day and into the night, going to bed well after midnight.
I spent the following morning finalizing my new social media accounts and finishing up research for Annie. She and Ronan had already gone to the photo shoot.
I also busied myself trying not to think about what (or who) Sean may or may not have done the night before. Not helping matters, I was reminded of him every time I moved my upper body. I was trying not to feel regretful about doing all those clapping pushups with him three days ago. My arms and abs were bloody killing me.
When lunchtime rolled around I was still in my pajamas. Such was life when you worked from home, and were in denial about being depressed because the guy you’re crushing on was out giving other women orgasms.
I was in desperate need of a shower, so I ventured into the bathroom.
Once out, I blow-dried my hair and put on some tight pale jeans and a floaty tie-dye top. For makeup, I gave myself kitten flicks and painted on some clear lip gloss. I wasn’t going to allow myself to moon over Sean Cassidy.
When I’d finally finished beautifying myself, it was almost time to go meet Annie and Ronan for dinner. They’d left me the address of the studio, telling me to go there and then we’d all catch a cab to the restaurant. I was both excited about and terrified of seeing Sean.
Partially because Ronan would be there with his eagle, cranky brother eyes. And partially because I dreaded learning that Sean had taken his new skills for a test drive last night. But I reasoned it would be just as well. No need to prolong this arrangement, especially since I seemed to be the only one feeling more than I should.
When I arrived, a personal assistant checked to make sure my name was on the approved list and then I was ushered through. There was music on when I stepped inside the spacious, airy studio, busy-looking people milling all about. I caught sight of Annie as she sat on a chair by one of the windows sipping on peppermint tea.
