The Player and the Pixie
Page 59
Sean wasn’t just some hot piece of arse to be shagged and then bragged about. He was a person with feelings. And yes, I never thought I’d see the day that I defended Sean Cassidy and his feelings, but here we were. Those women were as bad as all the men who went around treating women like sex objects. My next text was fueled by this anger and therefore startlingly honest.
Lucy: I’m having some really violent feelings toward the women who did that to you right now.
Sean: Don’t be angry. I’m not.
Lucy: You should be. You’re worth more than that.
Lucy: Thank you for the pendant, btw. I love it.
Another full minute passed and then came his response.
Sean: I miss you.
I inhaled, the three simple words taking the wind out of my sails and causing a sharp pang of emotion to cut through my chest. I didn’t even hesitate to respond.
Lucy: I miss you, too.
He didn’t respond after several minutes, so I tucked my phone back in my pocket and rejoined the line and my friends. But when it came time to order, my stomach was a swirling mess. I couldn’t eat. I could barely draw a full breath.
***
After that we messaged almost every day, chatting about all manner of things, and I found myself looking forward to our interactions, a smile on my face every time my phone pinged with a new alert.
Sean: -unicorn vomiting rainbow emoticon- Another thing that reminds me of you.
Lucy: Not sure what to think of that.
Sean: I’m going to have it put on a T-shirt as a Valentine’s Day gift.
Lucy: How romantic.
Sean: Terribly so. How are you?
Sean: I still miss you.
I didn’t contradict him, but rather just accepted the affectionate way he often spoke when we texted. However, I was also becoming uneasy, because the nicer he was the bigger my feelings grew.
God, what was I doing?
This couldn’t continue, eventually we’d have to move into the friend-zone or end our text messaging.
Simply put, if I valued my relationship with my brother at all then I couldn’t be with Sean. It was reality and it made me sad, which was why I found myself continuously trying to figure out ways to make Ronan accept us. If I told Ronan that Sean had never actually slept with Brona, then maybe he’d change his mind. Or perhaps if I found something they could both bond over they’d finally put all the bickering aside and become friends.
I know. I was living in a dream world.
Lucy: I’m great. Work is keeping me busy. You?
Sean: Exhausted. Just finished training. Eating dinner now.
Lucy: Oooh, what are you having?
He responded with a picture of a plate containing two steamed breasts of chicken, broccoli, aubergine, and a gigantic glass of some thick, beige smoothie.
Lucy: Ouch.
Sean: Yep. And when Coach McLaughlin told us to start doing running squats I nearly got hard. I think you’ve ruined me ;-)
Lucy: Omg, lol! Sorry.
Sean: Don’t be. Memories of us together are keeping me warm at night. I have this particular favorite of kneeling behind you on the carpet while you’re on all fours…
Lucy: Sean!
Sean: Lucy.
I put the phone down, fanning myself with the collar of my T-shirt, a tad overwhelmed by the imagery. I saw his hands gripping my waist, his head between my legs, tongue licking . . .
Focusing back on my work, I replied to a few comments on the blog and began answering a couple of emails, but my head wasn’t in the game. Sean was invading my every thought and it was driving me crazy. The frustration of being an ocean away—far beyond touching distance—was a new form of torture.
My phone buzzed again. I glanced at it, biting my thumbnail.
Sean: Are you still there?
Sean: I’ll be good. I promise.
Unable to help myself, I tapped out a quick reply.
Lucy: Are you capable of being good?
Sean: Yes. I’m always good.
Sean: You’re coming home next week for the wedding, aren’t you?
Lucy: Yes. I’m flying in on Tuesday.
Sean: We should meet up.
I closed my eyes for a second, swallowing as my tummy churned with anticipation. I knew I shouldn’t, but I really wanted to see him. Even so, I didn’t want to send mixed signals . . . well, I didn’t want to send any additional mixed signals.
Lucy: It’ll be a busy time. Got to plan Annie’s hen party and I’m also maid of honor.
Sean: I’m sure you can fit me in somewhere :-D
Lucy: Is that an innuendo?
Sean: Of course.
Lucy: Leave me alone, pervert. I’ve got work to do and you’ve got a whole lot of beige to drink :-P
Sean: Okay, but we should get together while you’re here. I’ll take you out to dinner and you can toss your drink in my face again, mock me for how I say “fam.”
Placing my phone down on the desk, I didn’t respond. He made me feel too many conflicting emotions and my confusion was exhausting. Instead, I opened up the folder on my laptop containing the itinerary for Annie’s hen night, happy for the distraction and smiling as I perused it.
I’d purchased a bunch of Where’s Wally jumpers and hats for us to wear, though Broderick was keen to inform me that he was known as Waldo in the States. I also booked an hour on a Pedibus around the city. It was going to be hilarious. After that we’d have dinner and karaoke at one of my favorite Japanese restaurants before heading out to Temple Bar for more drinks.
I chuckled because Mam was insisting on coming and I knew she’d hate every moment of it. Everything about the night was going to be ridiculous and sloppy, my favorite kind of fun, and her most hated.
Lucy: I’m having some really violent feelings toward the women who did that to you right now.
Sean: Don’t be angry. I’m not.
Lucy: You should be. You’re worth more than that.
Lucy: Thank you for the pendant, btw. I love it.
Another full minute passed and then came his response.
Sean: I miss you.
I inhaled, the three simple words taking the wind out of my sails and causing a sharp pang of emotion to cut through my chest. I didn’t even hesitate to respond.
Lucy: I miss you, too.
He didn’t respond after several minutes, so I tucked my phone back in my pocket and rejoined the line and my friends. But when it came time to order, my stomach was a swirling mess. I couldn’t eat. I could barely draw a full breath.
***
After that we messaged almost every day, chatting about all manner of things, and I found myself looking forward to our interactions, a smile on my face every time my phone pinged with a new alert.
Sean: -unicorn vomiting rainbow emoticon- Another thing that reminds me of you.
Lucy: Not sure what to think of that.
Sean: I’m going to have it put on a T-shirt as a Valentine’s Day gift.
Lucy: How romantic.
Sean: Terribly so. How are you?
Sean: I still miss you.
I didn’t contradict him, but rather just accepted the affectionate way he often spoke when we texted. However, I was also becoming uneasy, because the nicer he was the bigger my feelings grew.
God, what was I doing?
This couldn’t continue, eventually we’d have to move into the friend-zone or end our text messaging.
Simply put, if I valued my relationship with my brother at all then I couldn’t be with Sean. It was reality and it made me sad, which was why I found myself continuously trying to figure out ways to make Ronan accept us. If I told Ronan that Sean had never actually slept with Brona, then maybe he’d change his mind. Or perhaps if I found something they could both bond over they’d finally put all the bickering aside and become friends.
I know. I was living in a dream world.
Lucy: I’m great. Work is keeping me busy. You?
Sean: Exhausted. Just finished training. Eating dinner now.
Lucy: Oooh, what are you having?
He responded with a picture of a plate containing two steamed breasts of chicken, broccoli, aubergine, and a gigantic glass of some thick, beige smoothie.
Lucy: Ouch.
Sean: Yep. And when Coach McLaughlin told us to start doing running squats I nearly got hard. I think you’ve ruined me ;-)
Lucy: Omg, lol! Sorry.
Sean: Don’t be. Memories of us together are keeping me warm at night. I have this particular favorite of kneeling behind you on the carpet while you’re on all fours…
Lucy: Sean!
Sean: Lucy.
I put the phone down, fanning myself with the collar of my T-shirt, a tad overwhelmed by the imagery. I saw his hands gripping my waist, his head between my legs, tongue licking . . .
Focusing back on my work, I replied to a few comments on the blog and began answering a couple of emails, but my head wasn’t in the game. Sean was invading my every thought and it was driving me crazy. The frustration of being an ocean away—far beyond touching distance—was a new form of torture.
My phone buzzed again. I glanced at it, biting my thumbnail.
Sean: Are you still there?
Sean: I’ll be good. I promise.
Unable to help myself, I tapped out a quick reply.
Lucy: Are you capable of being good?
Sean: Yes. I’m always good.
Sean: You’re coming home next week for the wedding, aren’t you?
Lucy: Yes. I’m flying in on Tuesday.
Sean: We should meet up.
I closed my eyes for a second, swallowing as my tummy churned with anticipation. I knew I shouldn’t, but I really wanted to see him. Even so, I didn’t want to send mixed signals . . . well, I didn’t want to send any additional mixed signals.
Lucy: It’ll be a busy time. Got to plan Annie’s hen party and I’m also maid of honor.
Sean: I’m sure you can fit me in somewhere :-D
Lucy: Is that an innuendo?
Sean: Of course.
Lucy: Leave me alone, pervert. I’ve got work to do and you’ve got a whole lot of beige to drink :-P
Sean: Okay, but we should get together while you’re here. I’ll take you out to dinner and you can toss your drink in my face again, mock me for how I say “fam.”
Placing my phone down on the desk, I didn’t respond. He made me feel too many conflicting emotions and my confusion was exhausting. Instead, I opened up the folder on my laptop containing the itinerary for Annie’s hen night, happy for the distraction and smiling as I perused it.
I’d purchased a bunch of Where’s Wally jumpers and hats for us to wear, though Broderick was keen to inform me that he was known as Waldo in the States. I also booked an hour on a Pedibus around the city. It was going to be hilarious. After that we’d have dinner and karaoke at one of my favorite Japanese restaurants before heading out to Temple Bar for more drinks.
I chuckled because Mam was insisting on coming and I knew she’d hate every moment of it. Everything about the night was going to be ridiculous and sloppy, my favorite kind of fun, and her most hated.
