Page 66 of Red Card


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Okay, spill. Who is she?” Aisling asks, elbowing me roughly in the ribs and pulling my attention from my phone. “And why don’t I know about her yet?”

I glance over at her, my brow furrowed. “Who is… who?”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh? Is that what we’re doing? Pretending you haven’t been glued to your phone for the past three days? I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you text this much…ever. Like in your entire life, Cillian.”

Yeah, well, I’ve never been much of a texter.

At least I wasn’t until I met Rory.

We haven’t seen each other for a few days because our schedules have been hectic with classes, training, and she had a group session for a project that she’s working on, so we’ve been texting randomly throughout the day.

When I was leaving the weight room this morning, I almost ran into the fucking door because I opened my phone to a photo of her lying in bed wearing nothing but a tight tank top and thosebloody nightie shorts that I dream about, curving high around her plump little arse. She’s tiny, barely reaching my chest, but somehow those legs go on for days. I could make out the tight pebbles of her nipples straining against the thin fabric of the shirt, making perfect little mounds, and my mouth watered. I want to suck on them and drag my teeth over the sensitive peaks until she’s writhing and begging for my cock.

I haven’t stopped thinking about the way she came on my fingers, or how bloody sweet she tasted as I sucked her off them that afternoon in the equipment room.

It was stupid and reckless doing it on school property, and even so… I don’t regret it.

Not in the slightest.

“Just been fucking off, watching videos” is all I respond, and it earns me a hard jab in the ribs from Ais. I groan, dropping my phone. “Fucking hell, Ais.”

She lifts her chin, crossing her arms over her chest, and arches a brow.

I sigh and lean back against the couch cushion.

It’s not that I want to keep anything from her; she’s the closest person in my life. It’s just… a little fucking complicated.

Even if Rory and I are just hooking up, it’s still complicated because of who Rory is and who I am. What my past is like. And whatever my future looks like.

“It’s… complicated.”

Her eyes light up and she squeals, “Iknewit! You better tell me everything right now, Cillian. I will not speak to you for an entire week if you don’t. I can’t believe you kept something this exciting from me.”

Fuck.

My throat works as I pull my palm down my face, exhaling. I force my gaze back to her. “It’s Rory St. James. Coach’s daughter.”

Aisling’s jaw falls agape and her eyes widen. “Cillian.”

“I know. But it’s…casual,” I say roughly, slightly sharper than I intended. “It’s not like I set out to get with the coach’s daughter, Ais. It kind of just happened. But… I’m into her.”

“You like her?” she asks.

I hesitate for a moment, not entirely sure how to answer that question. My jaw tenses when I move my hand over my mouth.

Of course I bloody like her. She’s fucking gorgeous, smart, and witty. Funny and absolutely brilliant when it comes to rugby.

If things were different, and I was capable of giving her what she deserved, I would probably try to date her. Take her out, do anything to make her happy. Be the kind of guy that I know she wants.

That’s not possible when the life I want is back in London.

Regardless of whether Ilikeher. That doesn’t make a difference.

Chewing on the corner of my lip, I nod. “She’s great. But we’re just… hooking up. Having fun.”

Aisling shrugs, her dark curls bouncing with the motion. “Fun’s good. As long as you’re good… with fun?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I reply. My phone dings between us and we both glance down at the screen.