Fucker needed to feel them.
"And I didn’t mean to fuck you over," he added, cheeks reddening. "I thought you two were off. I really fucking like the girl, Johnny – I always have."
"Then all you had to do was pick up the phone," I countered, words slurring despite my best efforts. "And hear it from the horse's mouth."
"I should have," he finally admitted.
"You know what the messed-up thing is," I mused, voicing my thoughts aloud. "It's that if you told me you liked her, I would have stepped back." Folding my arms across my chest, I glared at him. "I would have respected the shite out of you for being a man about it, and I would have walked away. Bella and I were never serious. I didn’t have a relationship with her. But I had one with you. And you betrayed me."
"Cap –"
"No, shut up and let me say this." Exhaling heavily, I said, "It's not that she went behind my back with my teammate. It's that my teammate went behind my back with her."
Cormac groaned loudly. "Johnny, lad, I didn’t mean for it to –"
I held a hand up, warding him off with his bullshit.
"Don’t feed me that you didn’t mean for it to happen line. I've had sex, Cormac, many times, and we both know that when you put your dick inside a girl, you always fucking mean it. It doesn’t just slip in unannounced to ya."
"You're right," he admitted after a long pause. "Shit, lad, you're right."
"I know I am," I replied, tone clipped.
"And you're really done?" He watched me with a wary expression. "You don’t want her back?"
I shook my head and expelled a frustrated breath. "I don’t know how many ways I can say it, Ryan; I don’t want a bleeding thing to do with that girl. So, you go right ahead and do whatever the hell you want with her. Just keep her the fuck away from me, keep your PDA's out of my face, and we'll be golden."
"Are you saying that to save face?" he pushed.
"I would think you knew by now that I'm a straight talker," I growled. "When I tell you I'm done, I mean it."
"So, that's it?"
"Yep." I nodded. "That's it."
"Why aren’t you more pissed at me?" he asked, giving me a mistrusting look.
"Because I feel sorry for you," I told him and surprisingly it was the truth.
I was feeling sorry for Cormac.
I was also disappointed in him.
I was a lot of things but pissed wasn’t one of them.
Not right now, at least.
He was a pawn in one of Bella's games and even though I was drunk, I could see that as clear as day.
"Listen to me," I began, striving not to slur my words as I tried to give him some hard-learned home truths. "I've been in this game a long fucking time and I know what's happening here. Bella's using you to get to me and you're letting her make an eejit out of you."
Only God himself knew why I was giving him advice after stabbing me in the back, but I continued.
"She can't have me anymore and you're the next best thing," I slurred. "It's money for that one, Ryan. Money and status." Shaking my head, I added, "Fighting with your teammate over a fucking girl is the beginning of the end. Go down that path and it's over for you before it has even started."
Even in my drunken state, I knew I was making a hypocritical fucking statement.
I justified my reasons with the knowledge that Shannon was worth it.
Bella was not.
Cormac glowered at me. "You think you're better than me."
Was he serious?
Was that all he took from my effort of helping him?
"I am better than you," I snapped, frustrated that he wasn’t listening to me. "If you want to be on my level, then step it up on the pitch. Work harder. Train harder. Be fucking better. And open your goddamn eyes to danger. Because that so-called girlfriend of yours will bleed you dry, lad."
"She is my girlfriend," he snarled. "So don’t talk about her like that."
God, give me strength…
"Fine." I threw my hands up. "Keep your girlfriend away from mine and we'll be rosy."
"You don’t have a girlfriend," he replied slowly, expression laced with confusion.
"Me," I corrected, flustered at the word spill. "Keep her away from me and we won't have a problem."
"So, what happens now?" Cormac asked, face contorted in a pained grimace. "Are we going to have a problem playing together after this?"
"No."
"No." His brows shot up. "Why not?"
"Because I'm not thick enough to let a girl like that fuck with my head," I bit out. "You're a decent winger and the team needs you. I'd be a selfish bastard if I allowed my personal issues to impact the squad."
"And Bella?" Cormac asked after a long pause. "Are you going to cause problems with her?"
"Because you're with her? No," I told him. "If she fucks with Shannon? Absolutely."
"Shannon?"
"Yes, Shannon," I bit out, tone harsh now.
Cormac stared blankly. "Who's Shannon?"
"Shannon is the reason you're going to end up with a broken jaw."
"The hell?"
"Bella was threatening to go after her," I snarled. "If that happens, I will fuck you up."
He blanched. "Why me?"
"Can't hit a girl which means I'll be coming for the next best thing," I explained. "So, bear in mind that every single time your Bella decides to make a threat, spread a nasty rumor, or fuck with my Shannon, I'll return the favor on your face. Every single, goddamn time."
Cormac visibly paled, and the visual, although slightly hazy, was extremely satisfying.
"Good," I grunted, pulling my phone out of my pocket to call a taxi. "Glad we understand each other."
Shaking my head, I blinked a couple of times to clear my vision as I pulled up my phonebook and dialed the number labeled Fat Paddy.
Fucking Gibsie.
I should have known better than to leave my phone alone with him when I went for a shower.
The last time he got ahold of my phone, he renamed my mother Sugar Tits and Bella Devil Pussy.
It was all shits and giggles until Sugar Tits texted me in the middle of the night, demanding I come downstairs and unlock the front door because she was standing outside and wanted to come inside.
Not knowing who the hell was texting me, I had replied with more profanities than I cared to think about before threatening to call the Gardaí – on my own bleeding mother.
Talk about a clusterfuck of a misunderstanding.
"Do you want to shake it out?" Cormac asked, distracting me from my mission to get my drunk ass home, as he extended his hand towards me.
"Get that fucking thing away from me." I scowled at his hand as I put my phone to my ear. "I know where it's been."
His expression darkened, but he had the good sense not to push his luck for the night.
With a stiff nod, Cormac turned around and walked back inside the bar.
When Fat Paddy's number rang off, I tried five more times before giving up.
Taxi's around here turned their phones off on Saturday nights when it got busy, and from the sheer volume of people about the streets tonight, I knew I'd be waiting a long fucking time to get home.
Frustrated, I turned my attention back to my phone and scrolled through my contacts, looking for Hughie's name.
"That little bollox," I cursed when I realized that Gibsie had once again changed the name of every single contact on my list.
Sugar Tits and Devil Pussy were once against present in my contacts, along with new ones like Big Daddy G, Fanny Flaps, Call if Arrested, Do Not Call if Arrested, and my personal favorite: Judas Iscari-cunt.
Clicking into that particular contact, I recognized the number as being Cormac's.
He could stay like that.
Devil Pussy, too.
I spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to find Hughie's number because I couldn’t figure out who was bleeding who in my phone.
After accidentally dialing the contact Casual Sex and hearing Coach Mulcahy's voice on the other line, I quickly hung up.
Cancelling another incoming call from King Clit, because who in their right mind would answer a number listed as that, I switched off my phone and shoved it back in my pocket.
Morose, I made my way across the road to the chip shop and ordered half a dozen cheeseburgers and two bags of chips.