Wild Night: Frenemies Romance (Wilder Irish Book 10) Page 10

  “See you Sunday,” he said.

  She nodded, turned, and left.

  Chapter Eight

  Kelli lay on her couch, staring at the ceiling. Her tiny Tortoiseshell cat, Mojo, was lying on her chest, purring peacefully. She’d been in this same position since dragging her ass out of bed this morning. It was Saturday, which was typically her get-shit-done day, but so far, the day had been a total bust.

  She would pay for it next week when she ran out of clean socks and undies, but she couldn’t make herself care too much about it right now.

  Her mind was swimming in a sea of confused what-the-fuck-did-I-do and an ocean of I-want-more-Colm-sex.

  The past two nights, she’d replayed Halloween night over and over in her mind until her body actually ached with physical need, and none of the vibrators in her extensive collection were doing a damn thing to help that situation.

  Worst part was she couldn’t figure out what Colm thought about any of it. He’d said they were fine, but then he’d said they weren’t going to move on.

  So…what did that mean?

  Surely he didn’t intend for them to have sex again?

  Shit. She sort of hoped that was his intention. She wouldn’t mind going in for another round or forty-seven, just to see if it was some sort of wine-induced fluke.

  Of course, if they did sleep with each other, and it was amazing again, she’d still be fucked because it was Colm.

  “I was a serial killer in a past life,” she murmured. It was the only way she could explain how shit like this kept happening to her.

  She’d meet a great guy she really liked, and inevitably there was always something wrong with him—he hated cats, he chain-smoked, he was lousy in bed.

  And now, the one time she’d found a guy who seriously hit every freaking hot button in her body…it was Colm Collins.

  Fuck. Me.

  Her cell phone started ringing, and she considered letting it go to voicemail for a second.

  “Sorry, Mojo,” she said as she rolled toward the coffee table, forcing the cat to move. She picked up her cell, glancing at the caller ID. “Hey, Sunnie. What’s up?”

  “Just calling to make sure we’re still on for dinner and party planning tonight.”

  Kelli jerked up off the couch and glanced at the clock. She hadn’t even managed to shower or get dressed. It was nearly five o’clock, and she was still sporting bedhead and pajamas. “Shit. I forgot.”

  “Well, shake a leg, girlfriend. We’ve got work to do and margaritas to drink.”

  “I’m not drinking.”

  “We’re going to a Mexican restaurant, Kell. Margaritas are nonnegotiable.”

  “You bet I’d fall off the wagon today in that pool of Colm’s, didn’t you?”

  Sunnie laughed, not even bothering to feign innocence. “Day’s not over yet, and he’s got a pretty nice-size pot this year. Get a move on. Be there in an hour.”

  Sunnie didn’t even bother to say goodbye or give Kelli a chance to make an excuse to get out of it. Not that she wanted to.

  A girls’ night out might just do the trick.

  Two hours later, Kelli was eyeballing the margaritas—the second round—in front of Darcy, Sunnie, and Yvonne, and regretting that she’d picked now to give up alcohol.

  Because if she’d ever needed a drink…

  Sunnie had her tablet open, going over everything one last time. “Okay, so Yvonne is making the cake, shaped like boobs, as well as the cake pops—don’t forget the nipples on those. I love the idea of adding a bowlful of Mounds to the dessert table, Darc. Nicely played. And, Kelli, you sure you don’t mind running to get the art supplies for the upcycling old bras contest.”

  Kelli nodded. “I’ll make sure to have a good variety of crafty shit so people can really get creative.”

  They’d spent the last hour planning a Boob Voyage party for Darcy and Sunnie’s godmother, Bubbles. Bubbles had been an “adopted” Collins since before any of them were born. According to Riley, she and Bubbles had been best friends since God was in diapers, the two of them meeting by chance in Vegas a million years ago.

  Riley and Aaron had returned from Las Vegas the week after their elopement with Bubbles, a “former ho,” as she liked to say, in tow. Since starting a new life in Baltimore, Bubbles had found work as an in-home caregiver for the elderly. She’d taken countless nursing classes over the years and currently lived in a detached apartment behind Riley and Aaron’s house. She’d been a beloved member of the Collins family for years, and she was one of Kelli’s favorite people on the planet.

  The woman spoke her language. She never minced words and hadn’t met a curse word she didn’t love. It was Bubbles who had added the words cuntcake and twatwaffle to Kelli’s vocabulary back when Kelli was in high school.

  Bubbles was also extremely well-endowed. Like off-the-charts endowment. As such, she’d suffered with back pain for years, and a few months earlier, she’d decided it was time to reduce “the beasts,” as she like to refer to them.

  And, of course, the Collins clan considered that a reason to throw a party. Riley had put Kelli, Yvonne, Darcy, and Sunnie in charge of the food and games.

  Kelli had to admit they’d come up with a pretty solid menu—including nippetizers like meatballs, chicken “breast” salad, and watermelon salad. They planned to play “Pin the B-Cup on Bubbles,” as well as award a prize for the most creative upcycle redesign using Bubbles’ old bras. Sunnie also wanted to hold a contest to rename Bubbles, giving her a new, smaller-titty nickname.

  The party was going to be a blast, but Kelli was struggling to work up any enthusiasm for it at the moment.

  “So…now that that’s all done,” Sunnie said, turning off her tablet and twisting toward Kelli. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Kelli reared back. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been way too quiet tonight, and distracted, considering this is usually the type of thing you love.”

  She should have known Sunnie would pick up on her mood. Kelli considered the three women sitting with her some of her very best friends, the four of them spending countless happy hours and girls’ nights out—like this one—together.

  “There’s a,” Kelli waved her hand around, “thing going on right now and I need some advice. I kind of fucked up.”

  “Oh God. You finally broke down and told Princess Principal off, didn’t you?” Yvonne said. “Are you fired?”

  “No. I haven’t snapped over that…yet. Though she tests me daily.” Kelli’s principal was a hypochondriac Prima Donna with a capital P and D, who flashed red hot or ice cold, depending on which of her many medications she did or did not take each morning.

  “Well, if it’s not work, than it’s sex. Who did you fuck?” Sunnie asked.

  Kelli shook her head and glanced heavenward. “Why does your mind always go straight to sex?”

  Sunnie tilted her head in the ultimate know-it-all pose. “Am I wrong?”

  “No.”

  “So I’ll ask again. Who did you fuck?”

  Kelli bit her lower lip and debated whether or not she should tell them—for about zero-point-four seconds—then she blurted it out because the truth was, she really did need their advice.

  “Colm.”

  Kelli instantly regretted not having her phone out, videoing their responses. Because it wasn’t often she was able to shock three Collins women into silence.

  Sunnie, of course, recovered first. “Shut up. You did not!”

  Kelli nodded slowly. “It was sort of an accident.”

  All three women burst into laughter as Darcy said, “Accident? So what happened? You slipped and fell on his dick?”

  “I hate all of you,” Kelli said even as she tried not to laugh. “I really need a drink.”

  Sunnie lit up and then raised her hand for the server. Kelli grabbed it and pulled it down.

  “Forget it. I’m not caving just so you can win a bet. And it was an accident,” she insisted
to Darcy, “because I didn’t know it was Colm.”

  “How can that even happen?”

  Kelli crossed her arms. “There was a blackout.”

  “Halloween? The two of you had sex on Halloween, and we’re just now hearing about it?” Yvonne picked up her drink and took a big sip. “I can’t believe you held out on us that long.”

  “I only just found out I was with Colm Thursday night, at karaoke. I thought I’d slept with Robbie…and then…” She stopped right there, deciding to omit the Padraig part of the story.

  “But Colm must have known,” Darcy said.

  Kelli shook her head. “He thought he was with Brooke.”

  Yvonne frowned, clearly struggling to make sense of it all. “I know it was super dark, but surely you recognized each other’s voices.”

  Kelli shot Sunnie a dirty look. “We were still playing your stupid Quiet Place game.”

  Sunnie laughed, completely unrepentant. “Oh my God! Do I know how to throw a party or what? Just when I think I can’t top myself—boom, Kelli and Colm hook up and don’t even realize it. I might just hang it all up now and rest on my laurels because there’s no beating that.”

  “What about the Boob Voyage?” Yvonne reminded her cousin.

  “And Friendsgiving?” Darcy added.

  “Damn. Yeah. Okay. I’ll hang up my hat after the holiday season.” Sunnie lifted her margarita glass, but put it down again, leaning closer to Kelli. “So, how was it?”

  “Seriously, Sun? He’s your cousin.”

  Sunnie shrugged, and Kelli knew the other woman wasn’t going to give up. She was as nosy as the rest of her family, and she loved a good sex story. “So what? Details or it never happened.”

  “I’m not giving you details.”

  “You said you needed advice,” Yvonne—God bless her—said, changing the subject. “What’s going on?”

  “Please tell me my cousin isn’t acting like a total douchebag about it.” From her tone, it was clear Sunnie would give Colm shit if he was.

  Kelli shook her head. “No. He’s cool. I mean, we talked about it and we’re okay.”

  Darcy studied her face. “So if you’re both cool with it, and you still need advice…”

  Sunnie’s eyes widened. “You want to sleep with him again, don’t you?”

  Kelli’s knee-jerk reaction was to deny that assertion immediately—but she couldn’t.

  “Holy shit, Kell,” Sunnie said, letting Kelli’s silence provide the answer. “He was that good?”

  Kelli rolled her eyes. “If I said yes—and mind you, I’m not saying that, I’m only asking out of curiosity—how much shit would you guys give me and for how long?”

  Sunnie leaned back and pretended to consider the question. “That’s a tough one. Because, damn, there’s just so much material to use.”

  Kelli sighed heavily, but Sunnie was only just getting going.

  “I mean, a picture is starting to form of you and Colm in bed together. I can almost see him playing the cocky macho card the entire time, pissing you off, while he loses his shit every time you tell him what he’s doing wrong and how to correct it.”

  Darcy and Yvonne both tried to hide their giggles behind their hands.

  Kelli would love to be annoyed by this whole conversation, but the truth was…it was exactly what she needed. She’d been too in her head the past couple of days, worrying about something that really, actually, was pretty funny.

  At least on the surface.

  If she could just focus on the humor of the situation, she’d have already forgotten and moved on. But…she couldn’t let go of the way it felt to be held by him, the way he kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough, the way he slid deep inside, filling her, touching places she hadn’t even known existed.

  Everything Sunnie had said about their personalities and the way she and Colm had always communicated in the past was true, so she wasn’t wrong to think that would carry over to the bedroom.

  Except it hadn’t.

  Of course, he’d thought she was Brooke. What if that was why it had been so great? And who was to say that if they decided to have sex again, it wouldn’t turn out exactly as Sunnie described? They’d taken talking…and vision…off the table the other night. That wouldn’t be the case if they went back for seconds. “So what you’re saying is, forget it. It’ll never work.”

  Sunnie sobered up, and for the first time, Kelli could see her friend was suddenly taking her seriously. “No,” she said after a moment of reflection. “I’m not. It’s obvious something happened between you two that night. Something that’s shaken you up a little. And I’m glad.”

  “You’re glad I’m shaken up?”

  Sunnie nodded. “Yeah. You needed to have your foundation rocked. I don’t think that’s happened to you in a very long time. If ever. And the thing is…that’s what makes life worth living.”

  Kelli hadn’t considered that, but she could see now that Sunnie was right. She’d merely been existing the past year or…maybe decade. Stuck in a rut, miserable, lonely.

  Sunnie ran her finger around the rim of her margarita glass, sucking the sugar off the tip as she thought. “If you’d had amazing sex with any other guy in the world, you’d be going back for seconds, right?”

  Kelli nodded. “And thirds. And fourths. And—”

  “Wow. Go Colm,” Darcy murmured.

  “So why aren’t you going for that now?” Yvonne asked.

  “You all think I should just go with the flow? With Colm?” she stressed.

  Yvonne nodded and smiled. “Yes. That’s exactly what you should do.”

  “And when it blows up in my face?”

  Yvonne rolled her eyes. “Always so negative, Eeyore. Always waiting for things to fall apart.”

  “Because they always do!”

  “Until they don’t,” Yvonne added. “And then…it’s perfect, and completely worth the risk.”

  “Spoken like a true Collins.” Kelli smiled as she said it, then considered their advice, realizing she hadn’t given them all the facts.

  Kelli hadn’t told her girlfriends about wanting a baby. She wasn’t sure why she was holding that part back.

  This whole conversation was probably moot because the fact still remained that she still wanted to move forward with the baby plan.

  Though she didn’t have a clue exactly how that was going to happen at the moment. Colm hadn’t been on her original list and he still wasn’t because she knew he and Padraig had more in common than just looks. Colm wouldn’t “gift” her sperm and walk away, and things between them were complicated enough without adding a baby wrinkle to things.

  And now she was worried about Robbie’s participation because she didn’t have a clue what was going on between him and Brooke.

  Regardless of all of that, her decision to have a baby had been made months ago, and it was rock solid. Her wild night with Colm hadn’t changed that at all.

  Which should have made walking away from Colm very, very simple.

  She’d sworn off men, determined to focus on getting pregnant, on motherhood, on setting her feet on a path she knew—beyond a shadow of a doubt—would bring her happiness.

  The same couldn’t be said of Colm. She was a relationship disaster. He was a commitment-phobe, determined to fuck his way freely all the way to forty.

  And that was just separately. Together, they were oil and water, Harry and Voldemort, Hamilton and Burr.

  In truth, the whole thing was a no-brainer. Shake off the one-night stand with Colm and move on, move forward.

  So why wasn’t it simple?

  Chapter Nine

  “Alright! They did it!” Kelli high-fived Colm, both of them grinning widely over the Ravens’ big win.

  “They’re going all the way to the Super Bowl this year,” Colm said. “I can feel it in my bones.”

  The two of them stood up, stretching after sitting through the game and overtime. Kelli did a little victory dance, bumping her hip again
st Colm’s as she laughed. She looked adorable in the Ravens jersey he and Paddy had bought her for Christmas a couple of years ago. She was as big a die-hard fan as anyone in his family…and that was saying something.

  Of course, when he considered it, it made sense. She’d been watching Sunday football with his family for close to two decades.

  He’d been way too happy when she’d arrived a few hours earlier, chips and dip in hand, just like always, grabbing a seat with him and his cousins, ready to watch the game.

  Colm considered it a victory that she’d shown up without him having to go get her. Now it was time to scale the second wall because, while she was here, she was working overtime to resume their previous trash-talking frenemies relationship.

  Kelli was about to figure out there was a new norm.

  He watched as she started gathering up the dirty paper plates and empty beer cans. Knowing her, she was a few minutes away from saying goodbye and trying to escape, but her good manners wouldn’t let her leave without offering to tidy up.

  “What do you say we go down to the pub and celebrate with Pop Pop and Guinness?” Oliver suggested. The youngest of Colm’s cousins, the poor boy had spent too many years longing to be a part of the older cousins’ group, bemoaning the fact it had taken him forever to turn twenty-one so he could start hanging out at the pub with them. Unfortunately, now that he’d finally arrived at legal age, the cousins he’d wanted to go club-hopping with were now married and starting families.

  Colm felt sorry for the kid—as the family called him, much to Oliver’s annoyance—and tried to pick up the slack as much as he could. Not that it was a hardship. Oliver was exactly like his father, Sean. Laid-back, up for anything, live and let live. He was quick to laugh, told great stories, and had never met a stranger.

  Of course, Colm figured that probably described at least half the members of the Collins clan.