All It Takes Read online

  “Whoa, what? Damn, that sugar has gone to your head.”

  “I’m being serious. I hated seeing him with that girl, and you’re right, I can’t let him slip away.”

  “But everything you said earlier…?”

  I imagined telling Kian I wanted more from our relationship, and him saying he didn’t. I swallowed hard as time slowed down and dizziness swept over me.

  Then I pictured him saying he wanted more too, and remembered the sensation of his lips on mine. My heart soared.

  “Everything I said earlier still stands, and this could go horribly, but I want to take the chance.”

  “Well, in that case, go get him, tiger. And make sure you call me later to give me all the details.”

  I stood up and grabbed my bag, giggling at Stacey’s comment. “I will.”

  Not giving myself a chance to calm down and change my mind, I got into my car and headed in the direction of Kian’s. I’d never been there before, but he’d given me the address for my medical records, just in case.

  By the time I’d reached his flat on the other side of the city, the adrenaline was wearing off a little, but I was there; it was too late to back out.

  Besides, I still wanted to talk to him about the girl from the paper, and to smooth things over from our fight the other night. Plus, if what Stacey had said about him leaving Ferrum was true, maybe he needed someone to talk to.

  My heart hammered as I rang the bell and waited for him to answer.

  Inside his flat, I heard a thump, followed by swearing, and then the door swung open.

  “Meg!” Kian said, his voice high and his eyes wide. He had a can of beer in his hand, which he waved about wildly. “Come on in! Join the party.”

  His breath reeked of alcohol, and as I stepped through the front door, I saw the empty cans and bottles lined up.

  The thought of confessing my feelings to him instantly left my mind.

  “Kian, what’s going on?” I asked softly.

  He flung his arm around my shoulder, sloshing beer at my feet. “I’m celebrating.”

  “Celebrating what?” I asked, sitting gingerly on his leather couch.

  “The fact that my sponsors have dropped me, and the promotion company in Ireland I’ve been thinking of joining said they’re not interested. Ain’t my life fucking grand?”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I’d just opened another can of beer – my fifth? Sixth? I didn’t care – when the doorbell rang. I stood up, and ambled across the living room, hoping it wasn’t Jehovah’s Witnesses. I didn’t feel like getting into another fight. As I passed the sofa, I clipped my knee on the coffee table.

  “Bloody-fuck-bollocking-arse!”

  I opened the door to find Megan standing on the threshold, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed.

  “Meg!” Way better than Jehovah’s Witnesses! “Come on in! Join the party.”

  I teetered forward to open the door for her and almost lost my balance. Thank fuck she didn’t see. I kicked some beer cans out of the way and followed her down the hall.

  “Kian, what’s going on?” she said, entering the living room and staring at the mess.

  “I’m celebrating.” I put my arm around her shoulder and steered her to the couch.

  “Celebrating what?”

  “The fact that my sponsors have dropped me, and the promotion in Ireland I’ve been thinking of joining said they’re not interested. Ain’t my life fucking grand?”

  I sat down, kicked my feet up on the coffee table, and took a long swig of beer.

  Megan looked from me to the beer cans lying about then raked her hands through her hair. She took a deep breath and sighed. “You know, that’s really crappy. Bloody idiots.”

  I laughed. “My sentiments exactly. Shame no one else agrees.”

  “Well, they’re idiots too. Wanna talk about it?”

  I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head to the side. “What? No ‘you’ve fucked up’ again? No judgement?”

  “You seem surprised.”

  “Well, after the Johnson interview, I thought you’d firmly climbed aboard the ‘Kian is a fuck up’ bandwagon.”

  Megan rubbed the back of her neck and gazed at the ground. “Yeah, about that. I’m sorry. I reacted badly. You’re right. I should have come to you, not called Emilia.”

  My heart raced and the room spun. What was going on? Had hell finally frozen over? Something had to be going on for her not to be losing her shit.

  “You know, this would be a lot easier if I could drink too,” she said.

  I laughed and reached across to touch her belly. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

  Megan shuffled away like I’d burnt her.

  “You okay?”

  “Sure, yeah. Just tickled is all.”

  She didn’t seem okay. Her cheeks were flushed again.

  “You sure? Want me to get you some water or something?”

  “How about I make us both a coffee and you can tell me what’s going on?”

  “All right. Sounds good.” I downed the rest of my beer and followed her through to the kitchen, where she stood in the middle of the room, hands on her hips.

  I stopped for a minute and checked out her ass. She’d always had a rockin’ body, but the pregnancy weight had defined her curves, and now her clothes clung to her.

  Remembering the time I’d seen those curves up close made my pulse quicken.

  Meg turned to me, her brows pulled together, and I snapped back to reality.

  SO not the right time for those types of thoughts. Good job I’m switching to coffee.

  “Where do you keep your mugs and stuff?”

  “Here, let me.” I needed a distraction. I pulled two mugs and the jar of coffee out of the cupboard then grabbed the sugar and milk as Megan switched the kettle on.

  As she handed the sugar back to me, she peered over my shoulder, her eyes wide.

  “Are those chocolate Hobnobs?”

  “Yeah. You want some?”

  “Do I want some? Kian, if you don’t give me that packet of biscuits right now, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

  I handed the pack to her, which she instantly tore into, and then devoured a biscuit in two bites.

  We made our way back through to the living room, Megan still munching on biscuits, and settled on the sofa.

  “So?” she said, brushing crumbs off her top. “Ireland, huh? What happened with Ferrum?”

  “Taylor the tosser wants to strip me of the title. Says I’m not a good representation of the company. So I quit.”

  “Damn, that’s a big change. And your sponsors?”

  “When they heard I’d quit Ferrum and hadn’t lined anywhere else up, they dropped me.”

  “That’s harsh. But this place in Ireland is a no go?”

  “Yeah. They’re not interested either. That Johnson interview’s really screwed my reputation. Hell, who am I kidding? My reputation was already shaky. That was the final nail in the coffin.”

  Megan took a long drink of coffee then turned so her body was facing mine. Our eyes met as she asked, “So now what?”

  I stared at her, cheeks rosy and green eyes wide, her lips slightly parted.

  I wanted to kiss her. So not the time to be thinking that, either.

  I turned away and drank my coffee.

  What should I tell her? That my life was a fucking mess, I had no idea what to do next, and that given the chance, I’d probably screw things up with her and the baby, too?

  I wanted to run. I wanted to scream. I wanted to punch a hole in the wall.

  After the last time Meg and I had talked about my issues, I’d expected the cold shoulder, not her turning up at my place a week later, offering sympathy.

  I peered at her over the rim of my mug, and the look on her face took my breath away. No one ever looked at me like that. Like I wasn’t some messed up mistake. I buried my head in my hands and let out a deep breath.

  “What is it, Kian?” she asked
gently, prying my fingers apart.

  “Remember when I came to see you last week, after you’d spoken to Emilia?”

  “Yeah. I know I said sorry earlier, but-”

  “No, you were right. What I said then was true. I keep messing everything up, and I don’t know how to fix it. I try to make things better, but I always manage to make it worse. It’s like I’ve got this built-in self-destruct button, and when things are going well, I press it. You know what I did last week after we fought? I went to a bar, got drunk, and hooked up with Ruby from work. I mean, who does that? Who shags another bird when they’ve got a baby on the way? Oh yeah, that’s right, The Kian Murphy. The fuck up. The guy with anger issues. The guy who can’t commit to anything serious, and when he tries, he screws it up. I’m so fucking sick of all this. I’m so fucking sick of being me.”

  Megan laced her fingers through mine and stared at me steadily. “That isn’t you, Kian. Not the real you. The real you is the guy who sent me the Step Up DVD. The real you is the one who lets me call him at random hours because I’m worried about the baby. The real you is the one I- the one sitting here with me now, admitting he isn’t perfect.”

  I squeezed her hand as I processed her words. I swallowed hard, my heart racing and my skin tingling from her touch. She saw through facade, and just saw me for me.

  She saw me and wasn’t running away.

  “How can I always be that guy?”

  “I think by admitting you’ve got a problem you’re already taking the first step. That can’t have been easy, especially after the way I reacted last week.”

  “Yeah, but what comes next? I’ve got no job and no fucking clue what to do with my life.”

  “Take some time. After the fight with Matthews, take a few months off to enjoy just being you without having to worry about training and sponsors and shit.”

  I shuffled in my seat, the room getting smaller as the walls closed in around me. “Can I do that? Just take a few months off?”

  “Why the hell not? I mean, you’ve got the money, right?”

  “Well, yeah. Money isn’t a problem. But I’ve always worked, or been working towards something. I’m either at the gym training for a fight, or I’m travelling the country for my sponsors. I can’t just do nothing.”

  “You wouldn’t be doing nothing. You’d be working on the most important thing. You. You’ll be a much better fighter, father, and person if you get your head sorted out.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Then I’d be around more to help when the nipper’s born.”

  Megan grinned, and I felt warmth spread through me. “That’d be good.”

  “So you’re not pissed off with me?”

  “Why? Because you’ve got problems? Kian, everyone has problems. The important thing is, you want to fix things.”

  “I do. I want to be better than this. I want to be a good dad.”

  “And you will be. I have faith in you.”

  “Even after I slept with Ruby?”

  Megan’s eyes dropped and she turned her body away from mine. The atmosphere changed, and the warmth I’d felt just a minute ago vanished.

  “I take that as a ‘no’ then.”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s just. I-we … It was a shock, seeing it in the paper.”

  “You knew?”

  “Yeah. Stacey showed me this morning.”

  My shoulders sank. Just when I thought we were making progress, another mistake came back to bite me in the ass. “I bet she thinks I’m an arsehole, doesn’t she?”

  “Actually, no. I think she understands you’re dealing with a lot right now.” Megan turned to face me, the smile back.

  “You know it didn’t mean anything, right? I’m not into her. It was a stupid mistake.”

  “It’s okay. I know you’re not looking to get into a relationship.” Megan was still smiling, but I realised it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Really, it’s okay. Who you sleep with is your business. You don’t have to keep apologising.”

  “Yeah, but I kind of have to, don’t I? I mean, I’ve upset you. It can’t have been easy for you, with the baby and everything, seeing me with some girl.”

  Megan opened her mouth and then closed it again. She sighed and ran her hand through her hair. “That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is you’re trying to do the right thing.”

  I took her hands again and pulled her closer to me. “Thank you. Thank you for not judging. Thank you for being here and listening to my shit. I promise I’m going to repay you by being the best dad I can be.”

  “I know you will.” This time Megan’s smile reached her eyes. “And you can start by making me something to eat. I’m bloody starving.”

  I laughed and shook my head, amazed at how well she was taking all this. “Fancy some stir-fry and a movie?”

  “Let me pick the film and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  “Fine, as long as it’s nothing too girly.” I climbed to my feet and pulled her up with me.

  We made our way to the kitchen, where I stir-fried some egg noodles with fresh veggies, and Chinese seasonings, even throwing in a handful of chopped cashew nuts to give it some protein.

  After we’d eaten, Meg convinced me to watch some chick flick, and she snuggled down under a blanket, watching the movie. My thoughts drifted to what she’d said earlier about taking time to sort my head out. She was right. If I got myself back on track, I could be a better fighter, and a better dad. That was all I wanted right then, to be better than I was.

  I may have been about to lose my job and had little chance of signing with another promotion, but I hadn’t lost everything. If I could get my shit together, I could get back on top and prove to everyone I wasn’t just a fuck up. I’d show them who the real Kian Murphy was.

  But to do that, I’d need help. I realised Marie had been right when she’d said I shouldn’t keep all my problems bottled up. I’d only scratched the surface of my issues, and already I could feel the weight lifting off my chest.

  “Hey, I’ve been thinking. I should go back to therapy.”

  Megan sat up and paused the movie. “If you think that will help you, it’s a great idea.”

  “I do. Talking to you has really helped. I need a more productive way to vent my negative feelings.”

  “Makes sense. Anything else I can do to help, just ask, okay?”

  “You being here is enough.” I smiled and brushed my fingers across the back of her hand. “All right. Fill me in on what’s going on in this movie.”

  Megan launched into an explanation of the film. It sounded bloody ridiculous, but it made her laugh, and seeing her eyes light up when she smiled was worth sitting through a love triangle, a scene about shoe shopping, and one with a sex toy party.

  When the credits rolled, I yawned and stretched out my arms. “That wasn’t as bad as I expected. You want me to call you a taxi to save you driving in the dark?”

  When Megan didn’t reply, I leaned over her to see she’d fallen asleep clutching the remote. She looked so peaceful curled up on my sofa that I didn’t have the heart to move her, and instead covered her over with the blanket, turned the telly off, and then crept quietly to my room.

  The alcohol I’d drunk earlier was still working its way out of my system, which proved to be a good thing, as I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, instead of lying awake going over everything Meg and I had talked about, and worrying about calling my therapist the following morning.

  I knew it was a step I had to take, and that I’d already climbed a giant hurdle by admitting I had problems and needed help with them, but the thought of seeing a professional scared the crap out of me. Even before I’d started training to be a fighter, I’d taught myself to show no signs of weakness. I had to be the best, and that meant staying strong in every sense of the word.

  I could lock in a kimura in thirty seconds and break someone’s arm, but seeing a therapist scared me. How st
upid was that?

  Obviously, the whole show no weakness thing wasn’t working out for me, so now I had to try a different way.

  I woke up the next morning fifteen minutes before my alarm was due to go off, to the sound of someone in the kitchen. I threw on my boxers from the day before and made my way through to find Megan – her hair a mess and her clothes crumpled – making coffee.

  “Morning,” I said, pulling the fridge open and getting the milk out.

  She turned to face me and dropped the jar of coffee. “Jesus Christ, Kian. Put some bloody clothes on!”

  I smirked and took a step towards her. “Meg, come on. You’re having my baby. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

  Megan tiptoed around the broken glass and spilled coffee granules, and stood in front of me, then braced her hand on my chest.

  “Go get dressed,” she said, pushing hard against me.

  The simple contact caused the hairs on my arms and back of my neck to stand on end, and a jolt of electricity radiated out from where she’d touched me.

  She was right; I needed to get dressed before I ended up doing something to make a weird situation even more complicated.

  When I came out of the shower fifteen minutes later, Megan was sitting on the couch, eating some toast.

  “Hope you don’t mind I made myself breakfast.”

  “Nah.” I sat down next to her, and picked up my coffee that was just about warm still. “Do you want something else? I think I’ve got a few eggs in the fridge.”

  “Thanks, but toast is fine. I don’t think the nipper approved of last night’s late night snack.”

  “That’s what happens when you eat all of your dinner, some of mine, and a whole pack of biscuits.”

  “What? I was hungry!”

  I laughed and pinched half a slice of toast from her plate. “You in uni later?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got one lecture this afternoon.”

  “Cool. Everything going okay?”