Happily Ever Ninja (Knitting in the City #5)

“Yes, Ben, with a plus one.”

***

It was probably as a silent ‘up yours’ to Ben that I decided to wear the yellow nail polish to the party that night. My dress was cream lace, sort of floaty, and I wore my hair down with a single daisy clip at the side. I was sitting in a VIP room at the back of the party venue with my brother, his fiancé Annie, and a couple of his teammates. We were enjoying few a bottles of champagne and discussing the success the Irish squad had enjoyed during the year. Mam was elsewhere, socializing with the other team mothers, and I was glad. I just wanted to enjoy my night without her saying something to ruin it.

We were all having a great time until the door swung open and Mr Tall, Blonde and Up Himself walked in. That would be Sean Cassidy to those not in the know. He was the teammate my brother had the most difficulty with, and not only had he slept with Brona, my brother Ronan’s ex-girlfriend, but he was also kind of an arsehole. Actually, he was a lot of an arsehole, and he was constantly doing things to try and piss Ronan off.

I swear, half the time he said dumb shit for the sole purpose of riling my brother up.

The conversation died down, everybody casting surreptitious glances at Sean who swaggered his way up to the private bar and loudly ordered a bottle of bubbly. That’s actually what he called it – bubbly, a prime example of him purposely acting like a twat. He was obviously intimidated by Ronan and that’s why he felt the need to throw his weight around…but speaking of bubbly…

Almost of their own accord my eyes wandered over his broad shoulders, muscular back and down to what must have been the most perfect bubble butt I’d ever seen. You know how sometimes male athletes develop these really defined, rounded but masculine derrieres? Well, Sean Cassidy was most definitely rocking one of those, and I couldn’t resist the urge to ogle it. It was pure muscle and simply bite-worthy.

I snickered to myself when I realized I’d almost commented on it out loud. Okay, I’d officially had too many glasses of “bubbly” as Sean so douchebagly called it. He must have heard my snicker because his attention landed on me. He stared at me for a second, arched a condescending brow, then dismissed me all in an instant, returning his attention to the bar. Huh. After about thirty seconds everyone returned to their conversations, trying their best to ignore Sean. He was the kind of person who thrived on attention, so ignoring his presence was probably the best course of action to take.

It was my own fault that I couldn’t stop staring. We’d never spoken before. In fact, I’d only ever really seen him from afar at parties like this one, or on television when there was a match on. But right now he was close, close enough for me to realize just how devastatingly handsome he was: light blue eyes, a strong jaw, nice lips, attractive nose.

Sigh.

Why were the beautiful ones always such pricks, huh?

He leaned back against the bar, having uncorked the champagne bottle and poured some into a glass. He wore a shit eating grin as he stared right at Ronan, holding the glass to his lips, his pinky popped. I knew he was getting to Ronan when my brother muttered to Annie under his breath, “Is he fucking shitting me?”

Annie sat beside her fiancé, wearing a gorgeous blue dress and looking worried. She quietly placed her hand on Ronan’s thigh in an effort to soothe him.

Sean just kept on smiling while Ronan became more and more aggravated. It was only another minute or two before my brother finally snapped.

“All right, Cassidy, you’ve clearly got something to say so say it,” Ronan announced loudly. “And put your fucking pinky down, no one’s amused.”

Sean’s lips moved in something akin to satisfaction as he wiggled his little finger. “What? This pinky? Do my effeminate ways turn you on, Fitzpatrick?”

“Don’t give me that. You’re about as gay as a Snoop Dog music video. Now spit it out.”

Sean gave Ronan a bored look then cast his eyes across the room to one of the new players, an American guy named William Moore.

He pointed his finger at him. “I know you’re fixing to have this fucking hillbilly replace me. Well let me tell you right here and now, it’s not gonna happen.”

William was built like a brick shithouse and came from a small farming town in Oklahoma. His mother was of Irish descent and he originally played for a semi-professional team back in the states. William was also one of the kindest, most well-mannered men I’d ever met, so it irked me that Sean was targeting him.

It seemed to be irking everyone else, too, and I noticed a number of the guys bristle, their postures growing stiff. Sean wasn’t doing himself any favors by calling out William. Everybody loved William.

Penny Reid's books