The Player and the Pixie (Rugby #2)

Annie was laughing again. “You Fitzpatricks are too cute.”


“Soon you’ll be a Fitzpatrick, too.” Ronan stepped behind Annie, sliding his arms around her waist.

“That’s my cue to exit.” I tossed my thumb over my shoulder and began walking backward toward my room.

“Okay, go hide.” Ronan waved me off. “But after the photo shoot on Friday, we’re going for dinner at Tom’s if you want to join us.”

“Yeah sure, sounds great,” I called back and closed my door.

Once I was alone inside my room, I exhaled heavily. I was still clutching my phone so tightly I was in danger of cracking the screen. That had been such a close call.

Unable to resist, I flopped down onto my bed and pulled up the pictures of Sean and me, admiring them like a twelve-year-old pulling petals off a flower and chanting, he loves me, he loves me not.

This wasn’t good. Not good at all.





Chapter Eleven


@SeanCassinova I much prefer the company of dogs to people. Dogs don’t get mad when you forget to do the dishes. Dogs > Humans

@EilishCassidy to @SeanCassinova Nope. They just lick your face and love you anyway. Remember Wolfie? I miss him.

@SeanCassinova to @EilishCassidy Me too :-(



Sean

After leaving Lucy, I walked around the streets of New York with no destination in mind.

I did some shopping. I grabbed a cappuccino from a favorite bakery in Little Italy. But the city, oppressively hot and oddly empty, felt lonely in a way I hadn’t experienced or noticed during my previous visits.

I thought about calling one or two acquaintances, shallow people who would appreciate being seen with me. I decided against it. I didn’t particularly want that kind of company. Being alone struck me as infinitely more alluring than saddling myself with insincerity.

So I went to evening mass at St. Patrick’s and returned to the hotel early. Having nothing else to do, I went down to the gym and worked out, hoping Lucy would call, but not terribly surprised when she didn’t.

After a few hours, when I’d reached exhaustion, I showered and fell asleep, trying very hard to think of trivial things rather than the growing and uncomfortable tightness in my chest.

Eventually I slept. But I dreamt of Lucy.

In truth, I woke up in the middle of the night, my massive erection frustrating and persistent. Having no other choice, I took the matter in hand, thinking of her and our next lesson.

What would she teach me next? Would we move on to master’s courses now that I was rapidly conquering the basics? Would she let me take her in the shower? The fantasy turned infinitely dirtier as I imagined her in the locker room back at the Union field in Dublin.

She was waiting for me after a match, everyone else having left. I imagined her sitting on the plush bench in front of my locker, spreading her legs and hiking her skirt to coyly show me she’d been wearing no knickers while she’d watched me play from the stands.

Oddly, in this fantasy, I was only able to reach climax after she’d come. Multiple times. On every surface of the team room. And in the showers. And in the sauna. Then I passed out again, surrounded by the darkness of the hotel room, needing a shower but too exhausted to move from the bed.

When I awoke the next morning, I searched my sheets for her, confused at first by her absence. Then I remembered it had been a fantasy, a half-waking wishful dream that could never be.

I groaned, miserable and irritated. What was happening to me?

The chiming of my phone cut through my wretched thoughts and I hastily reached for it, wanting it to be her. I didn’t allow myself to dwell on the way my heart jumped when I saw she’d texted.



Lucy: I hope this doesn’t wake you, but I wanted to give you a heads-up: I can’t meet today. I’m at the animal shelter for a shift this morning and working this afternoon until late. Enjoy your day off!



A twinge of disappointment twisted between my shoulder blades, or perhaps it was lingering tightness from my workout the night before. I reread her message again, an idea forming. Without allowing myself to debate the intelligence of my suggestion, I quickly tapped out a response.



Sean: Where is the shelter? I’ll bring you coffee.



She answered straightaway.



Lucy: I already have coffee, but if you want to come down here and help, I won’t turn you away.

Sean: What will I be doing?

Lucy: Today is grooming day, so everyone gets a bath. Wear casual clothes.

Lucy: That means no fru-fru designer sports coats.

Sean: What about my diamond-encrusted shampoo bottle?

Lucy: That’s fine. I have mine here as well, along with my ruby-and-emerald soap dispenser. I’ll text you the address.