Ian (O'Connor Brothers #1)

by A. S. Kelly

  But then what I see in her eyes makes me understand quite instantly that no, I can’t risk losing her, not before having given it my best effort. Not before laying myself bare before her. Not before I give her the best I have to offer.

  “These years of friendship, being close, moments we’ve spent together…They were consuming me, Ian. I couldn’t even think about anything that wasn’t you.”

  I swallow hard.

  “I was ready to let you into my life, to let you dig your hands into my past and become part of me.”

  In her voice, I hear anger, resentment and a lot of bitterness – the same bitterness that burns my stomach now.

  “And you told me you couldn’t give me anything. That I was a problem you didn’t want to have anything to do with. And that’s exactly what I expected from you.”

  She looks at me again and I feel like I’m burning alive in the flames of hell.

  “What I felt for you was so intense and terrifying and if I had let myself feel it, if I’d let my feelings show, all the rest of it would have followed it, don’t you get it?”

  I nod. My legs are shaking.

  “I was confused, scared, but I knew what I wanted. I really wanted it. Despite everything. But you destroyed what was left of my heart, instead.”

  Fucking idiot.

  “After that night, I couldn’t feel anything other than my immense loneliness. I was ready to be swallowed up into nothingness. I cancelled everything, I cancelled myself too and thought that I would sit in that emptiness forever. And then I saw you. Just a few minutes at the hospital was enough for me. Just to hear your voice was enough for me to set foot in your house again, and I thought that maybe all wasn’t lost, that we might be able to try again…” she whispers weakly, and I realise what a genuine bastard I’ve been, that I didn’t consider for a moment what she might have been thinking in that situation, about her internal struggle.

  “And when we were together…I panicked. I felt crushed, I didn’t have enough air. It was so…it was too much. You wanted everything and you wanted it right that minute because that’s how you are. You’re a taker, Ian. You demand things.”

  “It’s not like that. I’m not that man, Riley, not anymore. I could never be that man with you.”

  “You left me,” she cuts me off.

  “What?” I asked confused.

  She gets up and gathers her shoes from the floor.

  “You said you wouldn’t have done it.”

  I look at her intensely because I don’t know what she’s talking about.

  “And I believed you,” she looks at me harshly for a few seconds. “I trusted you. I believed what you said and I thought you might be different from the bastard I thought you were,” she concludes, turning and walking bare-footed away from me.

  I watch her walk away, unable to speak or rationalise, or do anything at all that would demonstrate to her that I’m not a complete arsehole. Before she turns the corner, I run after her, grabbing her shoulder.

  She looks at me again with the same harsh expression on her face, before I pull her to me and she hides her face in my neck.

  A year ago, she begged me to stay. A year later, I’m the one begging her not to leave.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper into her hair. “For everything.”

  She tries to wriggle away but I tighten my grip on her.

  “Please don’t leave like this.”

  She pushes me away, putting her hands on my chest and stepping back a few paces.

  “You’re confusing me! I don’t know what to think, if it’s right, if we could ever have—”

  “Everything, Riley, you can have it all.”

  Me. You can have all of me.

  “What are you looking for, Ian? What is it that you want?”

  “You. I only want you.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Well, you’ll have to. You are the only thing I want. I wanted the same thing a year ago and I want it now, more than ever.”

  “I’m not strong enough for this. If everything were to go back to how it was, I wouldn’t be able to bear it alone.”

  “You don’t need to,” I tell her, taking her hand and squeezing it slightly. “You don’t have to go through anything alone, Riley.”

  “You don’t understand. It hurts me, Ian. Everything hurts me. It hurts to eat, to sleep, to remember. Some days it’s hard for me to breathe.”

  “Then on those days I’ll do the breathing for you,” I tell her, smiling at her and letting my thumbs slide down to her cheeks.

  “You don’t really think that.”

  “I can stand anything, but only if you’re with me.”

  “I’m a mess, Ian.”

  I take her face in my hands and I speak to her with my heart.

  “You’re my fucking mess.”

  Because that’s the way it is, I always knew it had to be her. And I won’t let her go anywhere until I’ve given it everything I’ve got.

  She has to know who I am, what I’m willing to give and how I am able to love. She needs to understand that she can just be who she is with me, because that’s all I want.

  “We can start from scratch. Me and you, together. Nothing forced, no rushing things. Nothing that you aren’t ready to face.”

  She looks at me suspiciously.

  “One night, with me. You’ll tell me everything you want to and I’ll do the same. We’ll be honest with each other. We’ll be ourselves. We can try it just once. And if after that you don’t want me, then I’ll disappear.”

  I see the doubt in her eyes but I know that she’s about to give in.

  “Tomorrow night, I’ll come by and pick you up at seven.”

  She thinks about it for a few more seconds before saying: “With what, that thing?” pointing to my motorbike.

  I can’t hold back my smile.

  “You know where I live,” she concludes, before turning away and walking down the street.

  47

  Riley

  I look at myself again in the mirror as I hear him parking in the street. I take a deep breath, then exhale. I’m nervous and worked up, as if this were a first date. Let’s just say that’s what it is; it’s useless to call it anything else.

  When I open the front door, I see him standing there, proud and confident in his white shirt under a leather jacket, his unkempt beard and crooked smile, I close my eyes instinctively to stop the warmth growing from down there then climbing up my entire body, landing on my cheeks.

  “I’m early,” he says, looking at his watch.

  “I’m ready.”

  I have been for about an hour. Even if I changed five times only to go back to what I had on in the first place.

  I take the keys and my bag and close the door behind me.

  “Everything okay?” he asks behind me.

  A shiver runs through my body.

  I nod and walk the few steps over to his motorbike. He hands me the helmet and gets on, extending his hand to me which I accept. I place mine in his, feeling its heat rising, and my heart goes wild. Now I just want to get on the bike without humiliating myself.

  “Hold on tight,” he says, before doing a U-turn and pulling out onto the street.

  I hold onto his waist, not too tightly or too loosely. I slide my hands under his jacket, over his shirt, and I feel his muscles contract at my touch. I sit straight up against his back, grabbing onto his chest and abandoning myself to this feeling of peace, to these new healthy emotions – I’m aware it could destroy me, but I don’t want to give up this opportunity, not before seriously hurting myself.

  We head towards the city centre, merging into traffic on O’Connell Street. Ian turns down an alley where I see a spot for motorbike parking.

  He turns off the engine and gives me his hand once again to help me get off. I take off the helmet and give it back to him before running a hand through my hair to smooth it back into place.

  I look up and catch him staring at me.
/>   “What?” I ask.

  He shakes his head and puts away both of our helmets. “Nothing.”

  “Weren’t we supposed to be honest with each other tonight?”

  “Jesus, Riley, you’re…you’re…shit.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

  He bursts out laughing and shakes his head. Then he comes closer and squeezes my waist with his hands.

  “I don’t know how to tell you without sounding like an idiot, or an arsehole who just wants to jump into bed with you - but you’re the most real and beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  I lower my gaze in embarrassment.

  He takes my chin in his fingers and lifts it so that we’re eye to eye again.

  “I just wanted you to know. But if it makes you uncomfortable, I swear I’ll shut my mouth and stop talking.”

  I smile again as my cheeks go aflame.

  He lets me go, slowly.

  “Th-thanks,” I stutter.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Er…” I reply uncertainly.

  “Let’s go,” he says, taking my hand.

  My eyes drop to observe his gesture.

  “Alright?”

  “I think so.”

  He sighs with relief. “I swear that will be the only contact we have.”

  God knows why, but his words leave me with a strange, bitter disappointment.

  We go into Flanagan’s on O’Connell Street. Ian gives his last name at the desk and the manager is all in a fluster when he realises who he has in front of him. I smile in embarrassment while Ian signs an autograph for him, then he informs us that our table will be ready in ten minutes and suggests we sit at the bar.

  We sit on some stools that are way too high for me, so much so that I struggle to clamber on, while Ian sits calmly beside me with his feet resting comfortably on the ground.

  How tall is this guy?

  I order a glass of white wine while he gets something non-alcoholic, and we toast for no apparent reason. I swallow half a glass in one gulp under Ian’s watchful eyes, making me sit a little straighter.

  “I don’t drink that much,” I say, feeling the need to justify myself.

  “I wasn’t judging you.”

  I set the glass on the counter. “I don’t have a problem.”

  “I didn’t say you did.”

  “Excuse me, sir, if you’d like to follow me…” the waiter interrupts us to escort us to our table. We bring our glasses with us.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he adds, handing us the menu.

  Ian thanks him and opens his as I stop to admire him. Intensely and persistently. I look at his hands, the tattoo on his wrist, the leather bracelet that wraps around it, his muscular arms and his powerful shoulders. His face, his full mouth, that sexy beard that…

  “Something wrong?” he asks, waking me from my daze.

  “Er, what’s that?”

  “You were staring at me.”

  “That’s not true,” I lie, gluing my eyes to the menu. Ian sets his menu on the table and crosses his arms over his chest.

  “Weren’t we supposed to be honest with one another?”

  Shit.

  I also set the menu down and look at him sheepishly.

  “You’re a really handsome guy.”

  He laughs so heartily that everyone turns around to look at us.

  “But now I think you’re a real, fucking…”

  “Hey! Since when do you use these words?”

  “Since I started hanging out with you,” I cross my arms too.

  “Oh yeah?” he flashes me a crooked smile sending my heart into palpitations.

  God, that busted lip makes him even more…

  “You’re doing it again.”

  Are you serious?

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t joke around. You can stare at me as much as you like and for as long as you please.”

  I’d be happy not to look at anything else for my whole life.

  “Riley…” he starts, but then doesn’t say anything.

  My name vibrating on his lips is enough for me - full of meaning and passion and desire. His deep, penetrating eyes are enough for me. His crooked smile is enough for me.

  A few withheld breaths are enough to make me understand that this won’t be a one-time thing.

  48

  Ian

  I don’t finish the sentence, there’s no need. I think my body is speaking clearly enough because every muscle, nerve, tendon, vein or drop of blood is tensed even more than when I’m on the field.

  Being close to her is impossible without jumping on her, touching her, tasting her, having her…

  One-time thing, my arse.

  I take a sip of my drink to keep my hands busy and my nerves in place, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to answer for myself. The only thing I want right now is to have her.

  All of her. For me.

  The waiter thankfully comes to my rescue. I order spicy chicken wings with a side of potatoes, then a grilled steak with vegetables and she orders just a Caesar salad. A pang of nerves hits me suddenly.

  I try to not let it show, to seem calm and comfortable but inside, I want to smash the room to pieces.

  “How’s the training coming along?” she asks innocently. “You still have that busted lip and that cut on your forehead.”

  I touch my lip instinctively as she sighs, biting hers.

  So, I’m not the only one here having problems.

  “Same old shit,” I say, playing it down. “It’s all part of the job.”

  “Of course, I know.”

  What an arsehole. Obviously she knows.

  “I was scared, when you seemed—”

  “It was nothing,” I cut her off. “I’m fine, I’m right here in front of you. And…I’m not going anywhere.”

  She smiles slightly as the waiter brings us our starters. She dresses her salad and starts playing with it but I can tell she has no intention of eating it.

  “Riley?”

  She looks up at me.

  “I can’t help worrying.”

  “You don’t have to. I’m fine.”

  “That’s the first lie anyone tells themselves.”

  “Okay. I’m not fine, but I’m better than I was. Yeah, better.”

  I watch her as she gathers her courage.

  “Sometimes I just want to forget. It would be so much easier.”

  The anger goes right to my hands. I grip the edge of the table to avoid punching a wall.

  “I would be different – maybe I’d even be enough for someone like you.”

  It’s all too much. I let go of the table and extend my hand to her. I grab hers and squeeze it hard. Riley looks up quickly.

  “Don’t you ever think that, or say it. You’re simply perfect. I don’t give a damn about the past and know that it’s not going to change things.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I know what I feel when I’m with you, when you’re here, when I think of you, when I think about holding you and what I felt when I was inside you.”

  Her face reddens all the way to her ears.

  “If I hadn’t been an unbelievable arsehole, if I’d had you in my house, my bed, I would never have let you go. I never would have let you leave. I wouldn’t have let you feel lost and alone. I wouldn’t have given you up for any reason in the world and I don’t want to give you up now. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything in my life the way I want you.”

  She looks at me with her mouth slightly open.

  “Sorry,” I say, taking my hand back. “I shouldn’t have. I don’t want you to think I’m only saying all of this because I want to get between your legs.”

  “Really? Isn’t that what’s happening here?”

  “Well, clearly it is – I mean, have you seen yourself, Riley? Do you have any idea how beautiful and sexy you are? Christ, since I saw your body, since I first touched you, I can’t think about muc
h else.”

  She bites her lip nervously.

  “We said we’d be honest. Well, that’s how I feel. If that scares you, I’m ready to take a step backwards, even to go away for a while if it makes you feel better, because the only thing that matters to me is that you’re okay, that you get a chance to take your life back in your hands. With or without me.”

  We sit in silence for a few minutes and the only thing I can hear is my heart beat beating mercilessly.

  “I like you, Ian O’Connor,” she says suddenly. “I like being with you.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” she replies honestly. “I’m going to need some time to figure that out, but it would be nice if you’d stick around in the meantime,” she concludes looking at me hopefully.

  “I told you before, Riley, I’m not going anywhere.”

  She smiles, taking her fork and pointing to the chicken on my plate. “Do you mind?”

  I stop breathing.

  I don’t need to breathe anymore.

  I don’t think I need anything at all anymore.

  “You can take anything you want.”

  49

  Riley

  Pulling up outside my house, we get off the motorbike and take off our helmets. I hand him mine, smiling as I go towards the door, searching around for my keys in my bag. When I try to put the key in the lock, I realise that my hand is shaking, then I feel his warmth on my hand, helping me open it.

  I turn to him slightly. “Thank you.”

  “I had a good time with you tonight, Riley,” he whispers coming closer to me, putting all my senses on high alert.

  He kisses me gently on the cheek and I shiver with emotion.

  “I’d invite you in but…”

  He shakes his head. “I can’t set foot in your house.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “No, Riley, it’s not that. Why do you think I care about the house?”

  I look at him, not understanding.

  “I can’t come into the house with you,” he says, taking a lock of my hair. “I wouldn’t be able to keep my word. If I came in with you, Riley, I wouldn’t be able to resist - I’d jump on you and I’d consume you with my hands, my mouth, my tongue. I’d make you mine again and again and I don’t know if I’d be able to stop.”