Luck of The Irish (Getting Lucky)

Then Aiden sat up laughing, a satisfied smirk on his face. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grabbed for his tea. I shrank back on the bed and covered myself with a pillow. Aiden chucked the pillow and took a sip of his tea.

“I hope you are that horny every morning,” he said.

I turned around and stuck my face in the pillow embarrassed by how brazen I’d been. Only I didn’t realize that meant I was essentially sticking my butt in his face.

“Round two? They don’t call me the champion for nothing, A Chara,” he said, before slapping my ass.

Chapter 11

Aiden

"You, sure you want to do this?" I held on to Erin's hand, feeling her nails dig into my skin. She hadn't said much all day, instead sat quietly, seemingly lost in the distant memories that haunted her mind. Weeks had passed since I found the news clipping and discovered that Caleb was her father. My first instinct had been to track him down and beat him to a bloody pulp but I had to give the man the benefit of the doubt. I hated the fact that the asshole had abandoned his kids. I’d always thought was a decent enough man, never imagining I’d see him in these circumstances.

"Well, we’re doing it aren’t we? She smiled sadly up at me. “I didn’t chicken out yet. I need to see him. Get all of this weight off of my shoulder and get on with my life. He doesn’t have a clue it’s me, right?"

"No, I didn't tell him."

"Good," Erin said. She leaned against me for support.

Erin had been going back and forth about confronting her father over the last few weeks. I thought she needed to, but she had a lot of doubts. She was afraid he wouldn’t care and it would crush her and Liam even more. Randomly, she'd start saying there was no point in talking, then she’d wake up in the middle of the night and tell me she’d do it tomorrow—only to awaken the next day and change her mind again. It made sense she was ambivalent, relationships with parents were hard enough as it is, abandonment or not. Last week, out of the blue, while we were watching an emotional drama, she announced she wanted to see him. There was no going back, her mind was made up.

It all lead to this moment, sitting in my office, waiting for Caleb Walsh, a man I’d called friend for a decade, but who Erin had called a deadbeat for much longer.

She worried her hands in her lap and I squeezed her shoulders. When Walsh’s voice rang out, we both jumped in unison.

"Aiden, you here?" Caleb's voice echoed throughout the empty gym. I glanced over at Erin, she sprang to standing, and her eyes had rounded with fear.

"It's ok. I'm right here. I've got you," I said. I held her hand and placed a kiss on the top of her head. "No matter what happens today. You fall, I fall. I'll always catch you."

She looked up at me, emotion glistening in her eyes, and nodded solemnly. I let her go. She walked out of the office alone, her boots clicking on the polished floor as she crossed the gym to a father she hadn’t seen in a decade. I stood watch as she went , wondering if I could ever look at Walsh the same way again, knowing the pain he’d inflicted. The man was a walking talking contradiction, standing there in a ten thousand dollar suit admiring the photographs of all the kids we'd helped together throughout the years.

Erin stopped walking, like she’d gotten cold feet. I wanted to protect her from any pain he might inflict, but at the same time, I knew how necessary closure would be to her ability to move on.

"Caleb," I shouted, my voice reverberating off the walls. I was trying to keep my cool when all I wanted to do was lift him by those stupid lapels, hoist him to the wall and pound the shit out of him.

"Mate, what's going on? You didn’t ask me here to spar, did ya?” Caleb, like the louse he was, looked right past his own flesh and blood, like he didn’t notice her standing there. That was as telling as it was damaging. I could see Erin’s shoulders fall and feel the confidence she’d mustered wane.

He walked toward me, offering his hand to shake. I could take it and crush it, punch him in the face, but I had to stop the man from making yet another egregious mistake.

"Don’t tell me, mate, that you don’t recognize your own flesh and blood?"

Caleb strode toward me, one hand on his waist and the other outstretched to me. His head turned to the side and he looked taken aback by my question. Caleb’s face reddened and his shiny shoes stopped in their tracks.