The Cad and the Co-Ed
Page 49

 L.H. Cosway

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“Right.” I drank some more water while she turned to open the oven, disliking everything about this conversation. Sean appeared to be thoroughly enjoying the scene, and I didn’t get it. I’d expected him to warn me away from Eilish, but he seemed almost encouraging of me being here. It didn’t make sense.
I was quiet as she dished up the food, and a few minutes later, we were all sitting down to eat. I focused my attention on Patrick, amazed by how much pasta sauce he could get on his face in a matter of seconds. Every once in a while, my gazed flicked to Eilish, but she studiously avoided looking at me, instead choosing to talk to Sean about how Lucy was doing in New York, and how the long distance was affecting them.
“What do you think about Trevor?” I asked Patrick quietly while Eilish was distracted chatting to Sean.
Patrick scrunched up his brow. “Who’s that?”
“A friend of your mummy’s. He’s got hair like this,” I said and swept a few locks back to imitate a man bun.
“I don’t know anybody who looks like that,” said Patrick, all matter of fact, and then a second later his attention was back on his food.
Interesting.
Eilish had never introduced Trevor to Patrick. That must mean things weren’t that serious between them. The idea made my chest swell with caveman satisfaction. A memory of the massage she gave me earlier in the week popped into my head, like it had been for days now. Her touch was seared into me, the way she worked my muscles over with her delicate hands. I knew I was a bastard to be turned on by it, but I was, and there’d been something in her eyes that made me suspect she was, too.
I needed her to touch me again.
She must’ve sensed my thoughts because her eyes flicked up suddenly and her cheeks heated when she saw how I was looking at her.
“May I be excused?” Patrick stood suddenly, grabbing his plate, his eyes darting to the small clock on the kitchen wall.
Eilish gave our son an indulgent smile. “Yes. Fine. But only one show, okay? And then it’s story time.”
He nodded quickly, clearing his plate and dashing out of the kitchen.
“He likes TV, huh?” I remarked as soon as Patrick had left the room.
Eilish opened her mouth to respond but Sean answered for her, “It’s because she rations it. He’s only allowed to watch half an hour a day.”
“It’s for me, too,” she sought to clarify, her eyebrows drawing low in consternation. “It would be so easy for me to let him watch hours of TV in the evenings and weekends, so I can get a break. But I don’t want that for him. I don’t want that for us.”
“When do you get a break?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual even as guilt gnawed at my insides.
Her eyes dropped to her plate. She reached for her water and took a sip.
“Here and there.” Her posture turned self-conscious.
I inched closer, trying not to show how much that answer bothered me. “That can’t be very good for you,” I said softly, my voice full of concern.
“I do fine,” Eilish shrugged like it was no big deal, and a tension-filled silence elapsed.
“Poor old Trevor,” said Sean humorously, changing the subject. “However will he spend his evening now that he hasn’t got his Iron Man DVD to watch?”
My lips twitched in a small smile. Cassidy could be a wind-up merchant when the mood took him, but since Trevor was his target I was happy to play along. For the first time today I was glad of his presence. He quelled the tension between Eilish and I, if nothing else.
“Maybe he’ll settle for Thor instead. Hey. I just realized who he bases his look on.”
Sean snickered derisively. “Nobody would cast Trevor Donovan as Thor while I’m standing in the room.”
“Please stop,” Eilish scolded, pointing her fork at her cousin, though I could see she wanted to smile. “What did Trevor ever do to you, huh?”
“At Aunt Cara’s, he once subjected me to a twenty-minute discussion about Xbox versus PlayStation. That’s quite enough to gain my ire, dearest,” Sean replied.
“He works for the games department at Google. It’s his specialty.”
“Taking down two-hundred-pound men with pure brawn is my specialty, that doesn’t mean I go around tackling people to the ground whenever I feel like it.”
“Not unless they ask nicely,” I put in.
“Well, that goes without saying.” Sean smiled in agreement.
I caught Eilish’s gaze and her blush deepened. Was she thinking about me tackling her? Because that sounded really, really nice as long as it was on a bed and we were both naked. Sign me up.
Yeah, I was hot for her. Holding back wasn’t an option anymore.
“He’s a good guy,” she protested weakly.
“If he’s so nice, why did you break things off?” Sean questioned. I had to say, I was enjoying how he directed the conversation, even if I wasn’t quite sure what he was up to.
Eilish worried her lip and stared down at her food, muttering, “We just didn’t have a spark.”
“Ah yes, the spark, the chemistry, the folie à deux,” Sean crooned. “What a pity.”
Eilish shook her head in exasperation. “Folie à deux means shared psychosis, Sean.”
“And what is love but two people going temporarily insane with need for one another?”
“It’s not the same thing,” Eilish said.