17. Aisling
SEVENTEEN
Aisling
PRESENT
“I cannot believe you dated Theo Vasquez and never told us,” Niall says, looking at us from across the table. I know he’s trying to downplay his fanboy side by playing it cool around Theo, but he’s failing miserably. He keeps staring at him like he’s the Messiah, and I’m pretty sure he has a soccer jersey shoved under his seat. He’s working up the courage to get it signed.
As I sit sandwiched between Theo and Finn, I can’t help but think this is all my fault. I was the one who agreed to play that ridiculous game of truth or dare with my coworkers and ended up drinking one too many glasses of red wine. I knew Niall and Damien were huge soccer fans, and while Theo is just a couple of years into his professional career, he’s an American playing in Europe. It wasn’t unheard of, but they were outnumbered here.
I should have known that this fun little fact about my life wouldn’t remain safe when combined with alcohol and peer pressure.
And here we all were, sitting in a trendy restaurant in downtown Dublin because my coworkers just couldn’t resist the chance to meet the famous ex while he was in town.
Oh, and they couldn’t leave out soccer fan Finn, either. No, that would just be rude.
Fuck my life. Seriously.
“Well, to be fair, she did a bit more than date me.” Theo grinned. “We were engaged.”
“What?” Shea practically shouts.
“You didn’t tell us that!” Damian echoes the sentiment.
My cheeks burn red, and I feign ignorance. “I didn’t realize you’d take such an interest. How was I supposed to know you’d know who he is? Should I assume you know every professional soccer player?”
“Football!” They all groan simultaneously.
“Whatever.”
“You’re in Europe now, Ash. It’s called football, and here, football is life.” Theo nudges me playfully. I want to tell him that football, or soccer, or whatever the hell you want to call it, has already consumed far too much of my life, but I keep that comment to myself.
“Don’t forget rugby!” Damien chimes in.
“God, I love a good rugby match,” Damien’s girlfriend Erin says wistfully, wrapping her arm around him. She’s tall and slender, with long red hair and about a thousand freckles. She looks like she belongs on an Irish tourism poster, honestly.
“No, you love a good rugby player.” He laughs. “Which sadly I am not anymore.”
“You used to play?” Finn asks.
He nods. “Throughout secondary school and most of uni. I blew out my knee at the start of my third year. Doctors warned that another fall could be disastrous. So I quit.”
“That’s tough luck.”
He shrugs. “It is, but I don’t regret it. I’d rather have my health than a few extra years in the game.” He looks over at Finn. “What about you? I know you played. Your name was even known in the UK. People thought you’d go pro.”
What? I never knew that. He said he played at Trinity but never boasted about it. He never said it was something he was so good at; he could have gone professional like Theo.
“It was never about going pro for me,” he replies. “I love the game. I love being part of a team, but that was all I wanted from it. I didn’t want the added pressure of contracts and money hanging over me when I stepped onto the pitch. To me, that would ruin the entire experience.”
“Easy decision for someone like you to make,” Theo grunts.
“Someone like me?” Finn turns, causing my whole body to stiffen.
“Someone who’s had money their whole life.” I suddenly feel like ducking down and disappearing so I’m no longer caught between the two of them. “Someone who has never had to worry about how they’re going to support themselves or their family someday. Someone who’s always been…taken care of.”
Part of me wants to intervene. To remind Theo that he didn’t grow up starving on the streets. While he may not have had the charmed life Finn did, his life was never lacking. His parents sent him to soccer camps and training academies and paid for college.
He was never without.
But I can’t intervene. If I do, it will seem as though I’ve chosen a side, and I don’t want either of them to feel slighted by me.
So, for now. I am neutral. I am Switzerland.
“Don’t assume you know my life,” Finn says, and I almost shiver at the cold edge in his voice. “Unless, of course, you wish for me to make assumptions about yours.”
What the hell does he mean by that?
“So, you two were engaged?” Torey, who has been quiet until now, suddenly speaks up. No doubt she’s hoping to change the subject. Thank you, Torey, but maybe we could switch to a different, less awkward subject, yeah? “What happened?”
“Yeah,” Finn echoes as he casually sips his Guinness. “What happened there, Theo?”
I feel Theo tense next to me as he fixes his gaze on Finn. “Didn’t work out, I’m afraid,” he says through gritted teeth before his focus shifts to me and his expression softens. “She’ll always be the one who got away.”
“That’s so sweet,” Shea sighs.
I avoid explaining the real reason I “got away.” There’s no need to make things more awkward.
“So, Arsenal, huh?” Damien asks after the waiter comes by, and we all place our food orders. “What made you decide to leave La Liga and move to the Premier League? It seems like you had a pretty sweet deal there.”
Theo shrugs indifferently. “It felt like the right moment, and I was looking for a change.”
“But mid-season? It’s kind of unusual.”
Another shrug. “Saw an opportunity. Didn’t want to pass it up.” Then he chuckles, flashing a grin, before adding, “Plus, they made it worth my while.”
A chorus of laughter follows just as Finn’s hand settles on my thigh. I nearly jump out of my seat, but his grip keeps me in place as he turns his attention past me toward the man on my other side.
“Didn’t I read, though, that you took a pay cut to transfer?”
Wait, what?
The table goes silent. All eyes focus on Theo as Finn’s large hand slides up an inch or two. I swallow hard, trying not to look at him.
What the hell is he up to?
“I could slip my hand between your legs and get you off while we sat at a pub or one of those meetings you ignore me in. No one would know all the dirty things I was doing to you right under their nose.”
Oh my god, he wouldn’t?
Theo clears his throat, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. Clearly, he didn’t expect to be called out on that. Why did he imply that Arsenal had paid him a ransom to switch? And why is he exaggerating the truth so much? Does he feel that intimidated by Finn? “Well, that may be true, but I am still making more than I could ever need, especially when you factor in all my sponsorships.”
“So, you didn’t move for the money, then?” Finn presses, and I nearly gasp as his fingers graze the thick inner seam of my jeans that’s nestled right between my legs. He applies a bit of pressure, and I try not to gasp as it hits… right …there.
My eyes dart to my left, and Finn looks completely at ease. His free hand—you know, the one that’s not trying to finger-bang me through my jeans—casually rests on the table, giving Theo a passive stare.
Meanwhile, Theo seems ready to pour an entire pint of Guinness over his head, but before he can reply, a group of teenage girls walks up to the table.
“Are you Theo Vasquez?”
His entire demeanor shifts, and he suddenly becomes pleasant, calm, and cordial. “Yes,” he replies with a smile. They burst into a fit of giggles.
Finn rubs his thumb across the denim seam, and I can feel it right against my clit. I grip his knee and squeeze to keep from moaning. Son of a bitch.
Should I stop this? Why am I not stopping it?
“Would you mind signing these for us?” They have napkins, coasters, and a wrinkled shirt—probably everything they could gather in a rush.
“Sure.” He laughs. “You want a picture too?”
Their eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”
“Sure, I need to stretch my legs anyway.” His arm drapes over my shoulder, and I suddenly realize two men are touching me at the same time, in two very different ways.
My brain goes haywire.
“I’m going to go visit the restroom,” I announce with a bit too much enthusiasm. “Finn can let us both out.”
I practically leap up from the table. Finn stands, a bit slower than me, however. We both shuffle out.
“I’ll be right back,” I say and promptly flee.
What the hell is wrong with me? Was I really going to just sit at a table full of people while he quietly slipped his hand between my legs and got me off?
My clit throbs in response to the idea. Oh my god, what a little ho.
I make a beeline down the hall to the restrooms. Both single stalls are open, so I go into the first one. Just as I’m about to close the door, someone barrels in behind me.
“What the?—”
A lock clicks into place behind me. I turn around. Finn’s large frame fills the small space, making it feel ten times smaller. It doesn’t help that he looks especially hot tonight, dressed down in a pair of jeans that seem to be made specially to show off his perfect ass and a thin black sweater that stretches across his broad chest that I know now know is chiseled to absolute perfection.
He may not be a rugby player anymore, but he sure as hell looks like one.
“Yo—you can’t be in here,” I say to him. Very convincing, Ash. Good job.
“Oh?” He smirks and steps forward.
“Everyone will notice you’re not at the table,” I continue, stepping back. I feel like I’m being hunted by a hungry lion, and I’m not sure I’m altogether mad about it. “That I’m not at the table. That—” He strides forward just as I stumble back, my back hitting the cool marble of the countertop.
“That what?” His hands rest on either side of me, trapping me in. “What will they think, darlin’?”
God, that nickname. I didn’t think I’d ever be into a man calling me darlin’, but here we are. I know if it were anyone else, it would come off cringy. But it’s not. It’s Finn, and hearing it is like a direct line to my libido.
And my heart.
“That we’re—” His lips brush against my neck, causing me to shudder. “We’re…” I can’t think. My brain feels like mush with his body so close to mine.
“We’re what? Doing bad things in here?”
I manage a nod.
“And what if we are?” His hand skims over the exposed skin of my stomach before sliding under my blouse. My eyes flutter closed. “What if I finish what I started at the table right here? Except for in here, I’ll peel off these sexy jeans you’re wearing and then bury my tongue so deep in that pussy, I might just have to use those fancy knickers you like so much to stifle your screams.”
Jesus . If I’d known Finn the tour guide had such a dirty mouth, I just might have taken my mom’s advice and offered myself up to Finn that first night we met.
But I don’t do flings. Or one-night stands.
Which is why, when his hands start to reach for the button of my jeans, I steady it. His heated gaze locks onto mine. “What are we doing, Finn?” I inquire, and before he can give a witty response like, isn’t it obvious? I continue. “Because this morning, you made it clear you didn’t want anything serious.”
“It’s not that I don’t want?—”
I push off the counter and away from him, suddenly needing space. “You don’t make any sense, you know that?” I tell him, frustration clear in my tone. I can still feel the heat from his hands on my skin, which only intensifies the feeling. “Is this just because you’re jealous? You can’t stand to see me with other guys? With Theo? Or is it because you genuinely still want me?”
He works a hand through his dark hair. “I told you last night—I never stopped wanting you, Ash. I didn’t walk away because my feelings changed or because I met someone else.”
“Then why?” My voice is hardly more than a whisper. “I deserve an answer.”
He stares at me for a moment, then tilts his head back, his expression unreadable. “In a perfect world, I would have answered those phone calls. I would have replied to every text, and you would have never needed to leave those voicemails. I would have kept my promise, and you wouldn’t be living in the flat across from me; you’d be living with me. But life is rarely fair.” His jade-green eyes meet mine once again, and I feel my heart stutter with the depth of emotion I see in them. “The day before you left, my father had a massive stroke. I didn’t find out until—well, that doesn’t really matter. Anyway, the man has barely been sick a day in his entire life, and suddenly, he collapses in a boardroom, and that’s it.”
“Is he?—”
“He’s alive,” he confirms. “But, he’ll never recover. And that was the news I was given the day I left you.”
“I’m sorry, Finn. That must have been awful for you. But that doesn’t explain us,” I tell him. I know we were just starting out, but I thought he knew he could rely on me; I could have been there for him. I could have helped. “Why did you delete my number and decide never to speak to me again?”
He looks truly haunted as his eyes meet mine. “You asked why I was working as a tour guide. I believe I once told you I was a bit of a fuckup as a kid.”
“You said you were a little wild in college, yeah,” I answer, briefly recalling the conversation. I remember thinking how different we were at that age. “Well, let’s just say I didn’t get it all out of my system by graduation, and after one too many embarrassing fuckups, my dad decided it was time for me to learn a lesson.”
“He was the reason you were a tour guide?”
He nods. “I thought it would only be temporary, but two years had passed by the time you stepped on that bus. I was always supposed to go back—and that was my singular goal up until I met you. For that short time, I didn’t mind the idea of never going back.”
“But you did go back.”
“I did,” he says softly. “Overnight, I became the acting CEO at twenty-five, and I was suddenly responsible for all our employees and their families.” He takes a deep breath and gives me a meaningful look. “I dreaded coming back here because I knew what it would mean.”
I feel like I already know what he’s about to say.
“My father was the definition of an absentee husband and father. My mam and I never lacked anything—except for him. Every time he skipped one of my rugby games or left my mother alone at a party, he chose the company over us, which is why I let you go.”
Because the business will always come first.
It wasn’t about capital or power for Finn. It was about the people, and he’d never let them down.
“So, what is this, Finn? What was this morning and the moment at the table? Because if you’re not serious about this?—”
“You’re what? Fall back into the arms of your ex-fiancé?”
My eyes widen. “What? No. I told you, we’re just friends now.”
He snorts. “The last thing that guy wants from you is friendship, Ash. You don’t find it odd that he just happens to show up, wanting to be best friends, right after he is transferred mid-season?”
“He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his career, Finn. He’s worked for this his whole life to get here. He’s just being nice.” I scoff. “He said with me being so close for the next six months, he wanted to take advantage.”
“Oh, I’m sure he does.”
I open my mouth to rebuff his claim but find myself momentarily speechless. He isn’t right, is he? There was a time shortly after I called off the wedding when I thought Theo would never get over the breakup, that he’d never stop pursuing me. But eventually, he settled into his life in Spain, his notoriety grew, and his obsession over our breakup soon faded.
It wasn’t until my mom died that he truly started making an effort again, but even then it was just a text here and there. It wasn’t until he called to say he was moving to the UK that he really amped up the level of communication.
“He’s just a friend,” I reiterate, and I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince more—him or me. “Regardless of what his intentions are, that’s how I see him. But, as I mentioned this morning, unless you want to pursue this thing between us, what I do or don’t do with Theo or anyone else is none of your business.”
I can see his jaw twitch and his Adam’s apple move up and down. “Noted,” he says, then takes a step toward the door. He reaches for the handle but pauses, not even bothering to look up as he speaks. “You deserve someone who is able to put you first. Don’t settle for anything less.”
Then he leaves, and I’m left standing there, wondering how I’m supposed to find someone else when everything I want has just walked out the door.
* * *
Finn
I’m no stranger to the occasional intimate interlude in a public toilet. Admittedly, it has been a while, and most of those encounters happened late at night in clubs or lively pubs. There’s a reason my father disapproved of my behavior—I earned it.
But, despite being out of practice with this kind of thing, it doesn’t excuse my lack of awareness as I step out of the loo with my head down and my spirits even lower.
I did not want to leave things with Ash like this.
Distant and unfinished.
But what else was there to do?
I already made a mess of things by letting my feelings for her get the best of me. When she was an ocean away, it was actually feasible to ignore them. Now, I felt like I was at war with myself, never knowing what I would do from one moment to the next.
Not paying attention to where I’m going as I trudge down the hallway, I nearly plow into someone walking past me. “Sorry, mate,” I begin to say, but then I look up and find myself staring into the eyes of Theo Vasquez.
And he looks pissed.
“Did you just come out—” His eyes dart to the closed door of the toilet where Ash still is, and he stops mid-sentence. “What the fuck, man?”
If things hadn’t ended so spectacularly shitty between us in there, I might feel entitled to gloat at the look of sheer horror on his face. But I can’t. Not this time.
“None of your business,” I mutter, then attempt to sidestep him. However, he blocks my path, and with a sigh, I move out of the walkway. I don’t want to create a scene, nor do I want to be in anyone’s way.
Theo doesn’t seem to care.
“None of my business?” He scoffs. “She will always be my business. She’s my future wife.”
My brow lifts as I shove my hands into my pockets, leaning against the wall. “Does she know this?”
“We’re meant for each other,” he says very matter-of-factly, jutting his chin out. “We always have been. Ever since we were kids. This”—he makes a motion with his hands—“is just a setback.”
“And by this”—I pull my hand from my pocket and mimic his ridiculous hand gesture—“you mean you cheating on her?”
His eyes flash with anger before glazing over into a cool, calculated expression. “You know, I recognize you,” he says, folding his arms across his broad chest. The glint of a Rolex sparkles on his wrist. New, undoubtedly, and top-of-the-line. “I wasn’t quite sure when I saw you in the hallway yesterday, so I pulled up Ash’s Instagram account and scrolled way the hell back.”
Kind of stalkerish, but I know what he’s referring to. I don’t know the point he’s trying to make, however.
“You were her tour guide,” he says.
I shrug. “So?” It’s not exactly a shameful secret if that’s what he’s implying.
“And now you’re the CEO?”
“It’s my family company,” I reply. “There are no small jobs—even for the CEO. I’ve shadowed every position in some capacity.”
“Very magnanimous of you,” he deadpans. “The point is you were irrelevant back then—nothing more than a forgotten photo from a random trip, and now it will be no different. She’s not staying here. She’ll move on, and you’ll be just another memory in an Instagram post.”
“And let me guess, you’ll be there to help her move on?”
“What can I say? She’s always been my biggest fan.” He grins. Jesus, how does this guy even fit through the door with an ego that large?
“And I’m just suddenly supposed to believe you’ve changed? That after fucking your way through half of Spain, you’re gonna what? Settle down?”
His face hardens. It wasn’t like the guy didn’t have a reputation.
I take a step forward, invading his space to ensure he hears me because I’m only going to say this once. “She isn’t a prize for you to win. She’s not a game, and even if she were, you lost the second you fucked around with another woman—a lesson you clearly haven’t learned yet.” His chest heaves with anger. “Now, walk away and let her live her life however she damn well chooses.”
“And let me guess, is that going to be with you?”
“No, I’m following my own advice.” I swallow hard as my gaze shifts just as Ash exits the bathroom. Our eyes meet for the briefest moment before I turn away. “She deserves better than both of us.”
She deserves everything.