Unmarked: Sean's Story (Chosen #4) Page 4

  “Why are you just sitting here in the corner when there are dozens of people to talk to?” I questioned her with narrowed eyes.

  She shrugged. “Not much of a people person maybe. I’m Aoife,” she smiled and held out her delicate little hand.

  “Efa? I’m Sean,” I took her hand in both of mine so that I didn’t hurt her little fingers. “So that’s like Eva? But with an F?”

  Aoife rolled her eyes. “No. It’s not Eva with an F. It’s A-O-I-F-E.”

  As I looked up to the ceiling to put the letters in a row in my mind, I inadvertently let go of her hand and she sighed loudly.

  “A-O-I-F-E?” I asked incredulously. “The spelling sounds nothing like your name, Irish. It should be spelled E-F-A.”

  “Ye? And how do you spell Sean then?” she asked with a slight smile. I looked at her beautiful luscious lips and wondered what it would feel like if I licked them while they were closed.

  She snapped her fingers and I instantly came out of my dazed state of mind. What the mother fucking hell was that? I have never wondered what licking in between closed lips would feel like. Not even Lizzie’s lips.

  Oh God, Lizzie. It was at that moment that I heard her laugh and the pit in my stomach churned just a little more. Aoife must have been watching the entire scene. The one where I looked over at Lizzie, gave a longing, fucked up look, and then placed my hand over my stomach so I didn’t vomit from the pain of seeing her with Nick.

  “You’re in love with her, aren’t ya?” Aoife asked. My eyes darted to hers and I guess they said everything she needed to know. She slowly nodded her head.

  “I get it. I fancied my lecturer back at college but he was in love with his girlfriend. Not sure he even noticed I was there or even breathing most of the time.”

  “It hurts,” I croaked out.

  Silence.

  I was clearly out of my mind. Holy shit. I just told someone in the Lizzie and Nick’s home that I was dying from being in love with Lizzie O’Malley. I started to panic. I needed to escape and fast. I darted my eyes around the room. My eyes started to sting uncomfortably for some reason. Some reason being one pretty red head that I would never have.

  All of these years – all of this time.

  All of these thoughts jumbled through my mind. I was in love with Lizzie O’Malley and I didn’t fight hard enough for her. I shouldn’t have gotten caught up in her laugh or rubbing her feet on the couch. I shouldn’t still be dreaming about her every night since she slept in my bed – which was over ten years ago.

  “Please don’t make a big deal about this,” I whispered to Aoife. “I shouldn’t have come tonight. I am going to say goodbye and head out.”

  Aoife nodded, looking down. “I don't tell other people’s secrets, regardless of how they spell their name, Sean.”

  Her quick sincere look caught me off guard as I put my hand on her shoulder. It was a little touch but it was hot.

  “Thanks, Aoife. You are more than welcome to join me if you are so bored here,” I offered. I knew she would say no. She was stuck in a corner.

  “I'm here with Freddie. Well, I came with him. I think he's Lizzie's friend?” Her big green eyes looked up at me with disappointment and then I saw it. Did she like Freddie, too? Oh, fuck me. This was a mother cluster fuck of a party. What in God’s name were they thinking? It wasn’t a love triangle. It was a sexual octagon or Pi multiplied by lust. This shit was fucking ridiculous.

  “Aoife,” I smiled as I pronounced her name consciously. “You should come with me. I will get you home safely. I’m just heading out to meet some old friends at a bar. I bet I’ll be better company than you sitting here bored all night.” I motioned to the door with the flick of my hand.

  She worried her lip with her teeth and the image of me licking that one tooth was now taking hold of my brain imagery. Damn, I could ogle a girl, post a few beers, fifty miles away from Lizzie any day but for me to do this while she was just a stone’s throw away was messing with my head. I couldn’t be attracted to Irish – Aoife. She was just like me, right? Unrequited love from Freddie? Freddie was probably still hung up on Lizzie, too. And who the hell wouldn’t be? We were all hung up on each other. I felt suffocated.

  Everyone wants to know why in the creepy shits Lizzie chose Nicholas Sawyer over anyone else? Yes, he was attractive and he loved her and her band. He had money and they went through a whirlwind of complications, but I was her steady backbone. I was steady and safe and she said she would always need me.

  However, this girl in front of me now didn’t even dare ask me for help. I didn’t care. I was going to give it to her anyway.

  “Come on, let’s tell them we are taking off,” I decided as I gently took her arm. She flinched at my touch and immediately dropped my hand. Aoife was timid and skittish. So why was she here in the first place?

  “You don’t have to go, Aoife,” I said with sincerity, looking directly in her eyes.

  “I know, Sean, but I want to,” she whispered. “I really want to.” Her eyes darted back to the area that Freddie was standing among Johnny and some other people.

  “Will you hold my hand?” I asked, adjusting my tone of voice. I suddenly felt the need to be gentle and delicate.

  Even her nod was small and endearing as she finally gave me a smile that cracked my angry demeanor in two. I smiled right back at her to confirm she was making a good choice by picking me tonight. This place was over.

  We gingerly held hands and walked towards the elevators, passing Lizzie and Nick to our left.

  “We are going to take off!” I shouted it loud enough so that Freddie would hear me, too. Aoife watched Freddie and I quickly glanced to see him giving us a weird look.

  When I turned back to face Lizzie, she had a shit eating grin on her face and Nick had an impenetrable look of admiration while he put his arms around Lizzie’s waist.

  Fucking ouch. Rub it in cock sucker.

  Aoife’s hand slackened in mine in reaction to my response to the couple of the evening. I grasped it back so we were linked. Thank the lord for hand squeezing. She might have just saved me from making an ass out of myself. We both turned to leave and I made sure to grab another shot of something as we walked through the kitchen to the foyer. Aoife followed my action and slammed back a whisky shot without batting an eye. Oh… this night could be a monumental disaster or a sinfully sweet one.

  Chapter Six

  Sean

  Boston Commons was buzzing for a Saturday night. The homeless were out full force since it was a relatively warm May. One approached us as we came out of the apartment building. I immediately dug out money and handed it over.

  “I was told not to give the homeless money,” Aoife stated, looking perplexed.

  I shrugged. “In America, it is pretty easy to become homeless these days. Lose your job, whatever – poof.” I made a ball exploding motion with my hands and then flashed a saddened grin.

  “But not you?” she inquired.

  I shook my head as I started to hail down a cab. “In my line of work, I do pretty well and I don’t live in Boston Proper. It is cheaper in the outskirts.”

  “So what do you do? In your line of work?” she teasingly asked. Her laughing eyes were wide again as she put air quotes around “in your line of work.”

  I chuckled low and on purpose. So, she was a little spitfire. That was new from the quiet woman I had met upstairs.

  “What? You can’t tell?” I asked as I flexed my arms, lifting up my black shirt to show that my whole torso and arms were inked. She put out a finger like she wanted to trace the tribal on my collarbone but then thought twice about it.

  “It’s okay if you touch me, sweetheart,” I laughed as I finally got a cab to pull over for us.

  The darkness did not hide the embarrassment that blotched up her face. She hugged herself and shook her head at the idea. I opened the door for her and got in after the view of her skinny, jean clad, sweet ass. When I closed the door, I gave the cabbie name
and address for the bar my friends were at, and looked over to Aoife.

  “Fuck me, you are bloody gorgeous,” she expelled – almost like she couldn’t keep those words in her mouth. The moment she realized she said it, she went the brightest pink.

  “Shit, sorry. That wasn't supposed to leave my head,” she muttered. After some quick thought, I leaned over and did exactly what I had imagined doing earlier in the night. I swiped my tongue along her closed lips and tasted the whisky on them. Her nostrils flared a little so not to move her lips in anyway.

  I had no idea what came over me. Maybe I did it because we both were scorned and left behind by someone we each cared about tonight. We both craved another warm body, or maybe we both required one long fucking time out from reality.

  “You lips are bloody gorgeous,” I whispered into her mouth. I loved the word “bloody”, too. I leaned back and winked at her. She smiled shyly at me and I took her hand into mine and we drove the rest of the way to the pub in silence.

  Before I went to open the large metal handle to enter the pub, Aoife pulled on my sweatshirt and looked like she was going to freak out. I let go of the handle and looked down at her with concern. Was it wrong of me to bring a total stranger to this place?

  Inside I heard the classic song, “Skinny Love” by Bon Iver playing and the boys were singing along to the “my, my, my.” I wanted to laugh but this girl – this woman who was thousands of miles away from her own comfort zone had no idea what this place was, who I was, and damn, she wouldn’t even know that this was a screamer song for heartbroken drunks like me. I had to listen to the words and be patient and kind – but who the hell was I? I felt like a sick kidnapper. Did I want to ruin her, as well? Even thought I may have looked like a nice guy to the outside world, I literally spoiled everything I touched. That fact I had known for so long that maybe it was what kept me from pursuing more than what I was. I was a tattoo artist, a tattoo junkie, a casual hook up, and a prisoner to my room – the sanctuary that only one beautiful, red headed woman had slept in – as much as possible.

  “Are you okay, Aoife?” I took her face in my palms and smiled down at her. “A little overwhelming?”

  She nodded her head furiously. “Why did you do it, Sean?” She asked as she put her fingers up to her lips. I looked down at them confused. Lips? I looked back up to her eyes. What the hell was she talking about?

  “Why did I…?” I started, feeling the perplexed face I was making and then, fuck. I had kissed her. Something so damn common for me. Something maybe more for her? I had to be careful. I would never wish this broken heart on another living creature. Even snakes. Do snakes have emotions? I fucking hated those fuckers.

  “You just kissed me. Why? You – who can do whatever or whoever the fuck you like – thought what? ‘I want to kiss her’ and thought that'd be ok with me?” At first she was upset until something dawned on her. She pointed her finger behind her, clearly not the way back to Lizzie’s place.

  I let go of her face and stepped back. As I shrugged, I heard her large sigh.

  I tried to offer her a smile but it was just plain weak. She nodded her head and returned a small smile. I honestly had nothing to say and I didn’t have to respond because Aoife opened the door for us with a bigger flourish that I ever expected from a tiny thing like her. She never looked back at me as she walked straight to the bar and ordered three, back-to-back, whisky shots. The girl could drink. Holy hell – it almost made me want to kiss her again as I straddled up to her on the vacant chair. My friends were clearly calling for me from the corner but I held up a finger to them as I watched her pound each shot back. When she had finished, she turned to me with a half glazed over look and a devious smile.

  “Come on. Are ya gonna introduce me to the lads or what?”

  She didn’t ask because it was more of a demand. I tried to help her off her bar stool but she scowled at me. This night was not fun. Lizzie was confusing. Irish was confusing. I was confused.

  “I know how to get off a chair. My parents did teach me that,” she said and her face went beet red.

  I held my hands up in surrender and chuckled at her. She was a spitfire little thing and I was growing more and more inquisitive about her. I had kissed her. I had torn her away from the party. I had been a fucking creeper out in the front of Mitch’s Pub and she was getting me back with downing drinks and verbally chastising me for being of assistance. I had to back off this girl – way off.

  My buddies were the perfect distraction Aoife and I needed from each other. She sidled up next to Robbie. He wasn’t that much of a ladies’ man but he was in the crew. His glasses almost resembled those bottle cap glasses from the 1970’s but he was one hell of a tattoo artist and was extremely successful in Quincy – a suburb of Boston. Ricky immediately squeezed himself into the booth right next to Aoife, literally sandwiching her in. Ricky was a classic greaser knock off straight from the fifties.

  He wasn’t naturally attractive but his look was a hit with the ladies. He was a mechanic and he loved the jackets, the hats, and the whole black comb in his back pocket. His on again, off again girlfriend couldn’t decide if she wanted to live within the financial limits of a mechanic’s salary. His charm was impeccable.

  I sat next to Will. He was the most laid back of any of us. Now, that guy could make panties drop in Maine and he didn’t even have to open his mouth to speak. The four of us, and occasionally Todd, would get together for beers, shoot the shit over a Bruins or Celtics game, and if anyone wanted ink – no one would go to anyone but me or Robbie. We were wicked good at it and everyone knew it.

  Will always left the bar with a chick and when I went to shake his hand, I caught his stare on a heavy racked blond – sitting at a table with some guy who was clearly from Southie.

  “Don’t go there, man,” I warned him as I put up a finger for Georgia – the redheaded waitress (whom yes, I occasionally called Lizzie, even though they were so different from one another).

  “The girl already gave me a blow job in the men’s room. I am just waiting on her signal so we can blow this place. These guys are a bunch of schmucks and it has been slower than a sloth eating a leaf,” he retorted as he took a pull of his beer.

  Did I mention Will attended MIT and was studying to be an aeronautical engineer – oh hell – rocket scientist. I still didn’t understand why since I heard NASA went out of business. It turned out humans didn’t want to know what was beyond the Milky Way. It didn’t matter – neither did I.

  My attention was cut to Aoife’s adorable giggle. The guys were clearly hitting on her and I watched the scene unfold with rapt attention.

  After about an hour of shooting the shit and trying to avoid everything Aoife, Will’s BJ girl left on the arm of her boy – giving him a sidelong “I’m sorry” look as he cursed under his breath.

  “I could have used the distraction tonight. Fuck, I hate it when I look like a horny teenager,” he said as he slammed his hand on the table.

  Aoife jumped so high that beer glasses started to wobble and she actually put her hands over her head, like we were in some sort of bombing drill. Both guys rushed to save the beers and immediately took to taking care of her – rubbing her back and whispering shit in her ear.

  “Hey,” I called out to Aoife over the commotion. “You okay?”

  Aoife’s forest green eyes met mine and I saw a mix of apprehension and…wait – was that terror? Did these guys making her feel uncomfortable? I would seriously beat their asses if they came on to her so strong if she didn’t want it.

  Who the hell was I? What a stupid fool I was. I had essentially assaulted her mouth not an hour ago and I was concerned that these guys were coming on too strong? I winced at that hypocritical situation. I hated, I mean – loathed hypocrites. And the sad point of it all was that, like I had just done, people didn’t know they were doing it until someone called them out on it.

  She looked me straight in the eyes and I swore to all that was holy in this u
niverse, she saw something in me that I never let out. A small smile touched the corners of her lips and a dimple appeared on her lower right cheek. It was so fucking adorable that I wanted to touch it – maybe even smooth it over with my thumb to see if it would go away.

  Wait, what?

  I reared back and took another swill off my beer, trying to avoid eye contact with her. It didn’t last long. I glanced up to see her leaning forward with that same small smile – the same small dimple, and the fucking huge understanding look that cracked me open in two.

  Was Aoife being a hypocrite? Tying one on with these guys, yanking their chains, and yet only wanted me? Could I be the reason she left Lizzie’s party?

  Chapter Seven

  Sean

  At that point, I knew something was weird between me and Aoife. There was sexual tension but neither one of us could give in. I had never felt so confused about my attraction to a woman. She struggled as much as I did to keep her eyes off of mine. Finally one of the shits we were sitting with noticed and called me out on it.

  “Seany boy! Is this your girl?” I didn’t even look at whoever said it but fuck if he wasn’t drunk already.

  I stared into Aoife’s eyes and her whole face went ten shades of pink. Her little freckles popped out on her nose and I inwardly cursed at my blatant stare. Before I had a chance to answer, her small voice became the only sound in the whole pub. It cut through the music, the chatter, and she was my only focus.

  “So, boys. What’s the difference between an Irish wedding and a funeral?” Her eyes became mischievous as one of the guys planted a shot glass in front of her. She whirled around to see who it was, looked a little worse for the wear, and then shrugged her shoulders at it before downing it. She was hard core on the inside. And no, this wasn’t just liquid courage that made me think that. Her ferocity was palpable. It just took a bit of comfort to coax her out of her shell.

  “You stumped me,” I grunted out as I took a pull off my beer.