Page 135 of Trying Sophie

“His dad was an alchy and he hates men who can’t hold their drink. He was in the stands in Bordeaux, and when word got back to him you have a problem with women and whiskey, he took note.” The smug bastard had the audacity to smile. “It also doesn’t help that you fucked his niece.”

Shit, had I? Maybe that’s why he scowled every time he had talk to me on a one-on-one basis. I figured it was because he didn’t like what a cheeky bastard I was, but Cian’s taunts made me rethink that assessment.

Quickly, I scanned through my memory of every team event I could recall and settled on a holiday dinner two years ago out at some posh mansion in Howth. The invitation had said black tie but most of the women who’d shown up wore dresses that could’ve qualified as napkins. If the bird in the gold sequins had been his niece, he’d do well to tell his sibling to keep a closer eye on their daughter. She’d followed me around the whole night and when I’d finally taken her up against the wall of the coat closet she’d screamed out things that made even me blush. I wasn’t complaining, but she’d wasn’t exactly the innocent he obviously thought she was.

“She was legal.”

“Ah, so you do remember? I wouldn’t have thought you could.”

“What’s your point, Cian? I’m tired so if you’re not going to be good company, leave me in peace.”

“You’re such a fucking arsehole,” he uttered. Shaking his head, he added, “I’d give my left nut to be in your position and you’re willing to throw it all away because you had a fight with your girlfriend.”

I’d suspected Cian resented my success, but this was the first time I’d seen his bitterness so pronounced. This conversation went beyond simple animosity and I wondered if his anger ran much deeper, if he was somehow actively campaigning for my dismissal. I couldn’t see how my being benched would benefit him, so it was probably just my paranoia talking. Then again, anger and jealousy did strange things to people.

“I thought I told you to leave Sophie out of this,” I reminded him for the last time. “Don’t make me repeat myself or you might fail another head injury assessment.”

If you’d told me two years ago I’d be sitting across from my best friend threatening him with bodily injury, I would have said you were out of your fucking mind. But like I said, anger made people behave strangely.

Cian pushed his chair back violently, the legs digging screeching along the hardwood floors, and rose. “Look, I like Sophie.”

I snickered. “Yeah, I’m well aware of that.”

He stared down at me, eyes assessing. “She’s too good for you. I already told you that … and her as well, but neither of you will listen.” He shook his head and pulled out his wallet. “You’re not capable of loving her and she doesn’t seem willing to give up on you. So … I wish you both all the best. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Opening the leather bi-fold, he tossed two €20 bills on the table to cover the tab. I would have paid since money was tight for him, but I figured it best not to remind him.

“See ya!” I hollered as he strolled away.

Because I would. The next time I stepped foot in Ballycurra, I’d either hear about what he was up to or I’d run into him. That’s just the way our town was. You couldn’t avoid your enemies when you’d grown up three houses down from each another.

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