I turned my head to look at him and shook it to answer no, unwilling yet to share the details of my sad and pathetic life.
“What would you have if we were in a fancy hotel now, and you could have anything?”
I didn’t need a minute to think about this one.
“Deliciously rich, expensive coffee and a selection of fresh Danish pastries,” I breathed out on a wistful sigh.
O’Connell chuckled and looked across at me hungrily. Without any warning, he sprang up, leant over the bed to grab his boots and sat down again to put them on.
“Are you going home?” I asked reluctantly, afraid of the disappointment I’d feel when he answered.
“No.” He grinned. “I’ve got some errands to run, but I’ll be back in half an hour.” “Okay.” I answered, without asking him where he was going. I moved to get up with the intention of seeing him out.
“Why don’t you stay in bed where it’s warm, and see if you can’t get back to sleep,” he suggested.
“I’m sorry it’s so cold in here,” I apologised nervously.
“My heating isn’t great, and it takes so long to come on that I’m usually on my way out before the room is warm, so I don’t bother with it most of the time.”
Anger flashed through his eyes, and I could see him biting the inside his cheeks to refrain from saying something. I didn’t think that O’Connell’s financial circumstances were much better than mine, but I still felt shamed at the obvious evidence of my poverty. A sure sign of wealth was that rich people never needed to feel cold or hungry. After a moment that felt like an hour, he leaned forward, grabbed the back of his sweater and pulling it over his head, passed it to me.
“What are you doing?” I asked him in shock, still staring at the definition of his eight pack that had been revealed when his t-shirt rose.
“It will keep you warm, and I won’t be gone long.”
“You’ll freeze!” I cried in horror.
“Don’t worry,” he chuckled, “I tossed my jacket on your chair before I passed out. I’ll be fine.”
True to his word, he shrugged on his jacket and grabbed my keys off my desk before throwing the locks on my door.
“Don’t deadlock the door behind me, okay? I’ve got your keys, so I’ll just let myself in.”
I nodded, still grinning like a fool, as I sank further into the warmth of his sweater. He gazed at me intently, like he was trying to memorise something, then with a wink he let himself out and closed the door behind him. I’d bet good money that he’d used the exit wink more than once before. I didn’t for one minute think that he’d come back, but if nothing else, the sweater was a pretty awesome souvenir. I had a spare set of keys, but I’d have to find a way to get my others back from him. I pulled on the neck of his sweatshirt and inhaled deeply. It was still deliciously warm from the heat of his body, and as I snuggled back into bed, the chill of the room barely bothered me.
The luxurious smell of expensive coffee brought me round, but the beautiful blues staring down at me were enough to keep my eyes open. I sat bolt upright in bed in surprise.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I told you I’d be back,” O’Connell answered in confusion. My cheeks coloured as he realised I hadn’t believed him, but he was nice enough not to call me on it. He reached toward my bedside table and handed me a foam cup. The smell literally made me groan.
I leant back, wrapped up in O’Connell’s sweater and sipping luxury coffee, feeling like this was the best dream I’d ever had. The dream got even better when O’Connell started stripping.
“Umm,” I mumbled sounding like a complete moron, but unwilling to put an end to the free show. When he was down to his jeans and nothing else, he slid into bed next to me and grabbed a box by the side of him.
“As promised...breakfast in bed,” he grinned, feeling very pleased with himself, and damn if he wasn’t holding a box full of warm Danish pastries. When we’d gorged ourselves completely, I laid back down on my side, full and contented.
“That was the most amazing thing anyone’s ever done for me, and you’re totally forgiven for waking me up in the middle of the night.”
He set aside the box and laid down to face me.
“I’m sorry about that. Yesterday was kind of a rough day for me,” he admitted.
“What happened?” I asked gently. I didn’t mean to pry, but O’Connell looked like he needed to talk.
“Ma fell off the wagon again night before last. We got into it, and we both said some things we can’t take back.”
There was nothing to say that could make him feel any better. I gathered that she was an alcoholic, and reached out and laid my hand over his in a gesture of support. He stared at it for a really long time and then carried on.
“Dad was a twat who was off fucking anything in a skirt for as long as I can remember. Eventually, Ma kicked him out, and that’s when things got bad. She started drinking and would go on binges for weeks at a time. When she tried to clean herself up, things would get better. There’d be food in the house again, and she’d start giving a shite about me going to school and stuff, but then she’d hear about my dad’s latest hook up, or we’d get a final demand on a bill, and I’d come home to find vomit all over the kitchen floor and her passed out on the sofa.”
O’Connell looked so nervous telling me, like he thought it would change my opinion of him. I wouldn’t pity him. We all had our own sad stories to tell, but now he stood taller in my eyes. Any man who could survive a childhood like that would.
“How did you stay out of care?” I asked.
“I was pretty good at covering for her and taking care of myself. Kieran’s Ma knew that something was up, but she never called me on it. When things were really bad, she fed me and let me bunk in Kier’s room, which pretty much saved my life.”
He closed his eyes like talking about it was too much for him.
“Why did she fall off the wagon this time?” I persisted, poking at his open wound.
Now he’d started, I figured that he needed to let all the poison out before it would heal.
“Who the fuck knows,” he admitted. “But I’m so fucking over it. How am I supposed to sort my crap out, when I’m always dealing with hers?”
“You shouldn’t drink when you’re angry. It probably makes things worse,” I whispered. I didn’t mean to preach, but it sounded like the drinking was a dangerous path for his mum, and I didn’t want him meeting the same fate.
“I’m pretty sure that being a loser is in the blood,” he admitted, as he opened his eyes to look back at me sadly. I didn’t cuddle him or offer false platitudes that everything would be fine. That was a promise that I couldn’t make, for him or me. If he wanted to change his life, then only he could make it happen. I knew that better than anyone. I reached across to my bedside table and grabbed a black pen. He looked stunned as I started writing across his rock hard pec. His chest really was worthy of appreciation. All rock hard muscle beneath my fingertips. When I was done, I looked over my handiwork and smiled.
“What does it say?” O’Connell asked, looking down at his chest.
“It says,” I replied throatily,
“A champion is someone who gets up when they can’t.- Jack Dempsey.”
I figured you’d appreciate the boxing reference, and I think that if you can pick yourself up, even when you think you’re rock bottom and can’t get any lower, well, then that makes you pretty special.”
He swallowed deeply and pulled me down onto his chest. With my head pillowed against his bicep, I fell asleep. Just like that, more warm, rested, and peaceful than I’d been in a very long time.
A WEEK HAD GONE BY since that night with O’Connell. As the days passed, I convinced myself that he must have dismissed the weekend as another drunken lapse in judgement, so when I entered the gym on Thursday, it was with a heavy heart. The atmosphere inside was buzzing. The place was packed and Kieran and a few other boys were crowded around t
he ring, chatting with a few of the trainers. I tucked my head down and made a beeline for the sanctuary of the office, but as soon as I walked in the door, Danny grabbed me and landed a smacking great kiss on my cheek. Then, bounding away like a jolly little leprechaun, he began pouring us both a coffee. I’d screeched when he grabbed me, but now I just stared at him, my mouth wide open like some stupid fish.
“Um...what was that for Danny?”
“Because you, my girl, are a bloody genius! I’ve been trying to get that boy to fight seriously for years. He trains with one foot in and one foot out. He lacks commitment and conviction. But I’m telling you, that cocky little shit has something special. It’s a gift that, up until now, he’s been pissing up the wall. Then Monday morning he comes and tells me that he’s all in and he wants me to train him to go professional. I don’t know what you’ve done to him, but he’s been working out like a machine ever since. Can’t say I’m thrilled about what’s going on between you two, but I never thought it would lead to this.”
He shoved the hot mug of coffee into my hand, but didn’t pay any attention to my stunned expression. Never, in all the crazy scenarios that I’d thought up, did I imagine that this was what had been going on this past week.
“Nothing is going on with me and O’Connell,” I stated flatly.
“Really, darlin’,” Danny replied with a chuckle.
“You must think I’m a right eejit. When he’s not training, that boy’s walking round with a stupid bloody grin on his face, and he’s spent the last half an hour checking the door every time it opens. Now, if he’s not looking for you, I’m a feckin’ monkey’s uncle.”
I kind of squeaked and looked at the door myself, remembering that I hadn’t seen O’Connell on the way in.
“Not you, too, sunshine,” Danny snorted.
“Don’t bother looking for lover boy. I’ve sent him on a long run. See if that helps with his concentration. Now, get to work, wench, and earn your keep.”
He laughed again to himself and left the room whistling some tune, in any key but the right one, and in a better mood that I’d ever seen him.
I sat down hard on the office chair and stayed there for a good five minutes while I processed what was happening. There was no way that I could take any credit for anything that was going on with O’Connell, but I couldn’t help the small spark of hope that maybe I hadn’t been dismissed as easily as I’d thought.
Determined to get a grip and stop mooning over some non-existent, fictional relationship, I started work. Danny came back about an hour later for a refill on his coffee, and I barely spared him a glance, determined to rise above his needling and prove him wrong. When the door went again, I didn’t look up until I felt breath hot against my neck.
“Jesus Christ!” I yelped as my heart jumped into my mouth. I spun my chair around to see O’Connell wearing the biggest shit-eating grin on his face. He was shirtless, as usual, and wearing the uniform shorts that he always trained in. He leaned his sweaty ripped torso forward and laid his hands onto the desk either side of me, trapping me in the circle of his arms. Even sweaty from training, he still smelt good, and I wondered how it would feel to kiss my way down those abdominals. He was so built and hard that being this close made me feel even smaller and more fragile than I usually felt. I noticed straight away that my neat, black, cursive still adorned his chest.
“Shouldn’t that have washed off by now?” I asked. I sucked in a breath as a thought occurred to me. “I didn’t use permanent ink, did I? I thought it would come off with water.”
He grinned even bigger, if that was possible, then grabbed my hand and placed it gently on his pectoral. With my fingertips, I traced the raised bumps of each line.
“Holy shit!” I whispered. “You’ve had it tattooed on you.”
“YOU SHOULDN’T CURSE,” he teased.
I ran my fingertips back and forth across his skin, in case I was wrong, but sure enough, the ridges of the text were slightly red and scabbed.
“But...” I muttered, at a complete loss for words. O’Connell seemed to find my reaction highly amusing.
“You should see your face, sunshine.”
“They weren’t even my words,” I exclaimed, as though he could still somehow change his mind about the tattoo.
“I know. But you gave them to me.”
“But my handwriting is terrible,” I replied, horrified yet exhilarated with what he’d done.
“It’s perfect, and it will give me a good story to tell our kids.”
“Holy shit!” I whispered again. I was sure he took pleasure in leaving me speechless as he laid a gentle kiss on my head and moved toward the door. On his way out, he turned back to me.
“I have to train late again tonight. Can you wait an extra hour for me, or shall I get Kier to walk you home?”
“I’ll wait,” I replied, as I felt my cheeks reddening.
He grinned back knowingly, and as he shut the door behind him, I crossed my legs to relieve the ache.
The door tapped a little bit later, and in walked Tommy, more subdued than I’d ever seen him.
“Hey, Tommy.” I smiled. “What’s up?”
“Thought I’d get in while Con’s distracted and try for that number,” he answered.
“Sorry.” I grinned back. “Numbers are tomorrow night, you know that.”
He rubbed that back of his neck in a gesture that betrayed his unease.
“About that. Me Da’s broken his leg which means he can’t work, so I’m gonna need to help Ma out with the rent. I’ve had a word with Danny, and he’s knocking my subs down to five quid a week for the next month till I can get my folks back on their feet. Danny wanted me to tell you in case he forgets to mention it.”
“Oh no!” I exclaimed. “Is he all right? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“He’s okay, thanks Em. He just feels like a bit of an eejit for falling down the steps drunk. Ma tore him a new one, though.”
“Your poor mum. I hope she’s all right, but let me know if there’s anything I can do,” I offered.
“Well,” he drawled, with his trademark confidence. “Maybe I should take your number, you know, just in case I can think of a way you can help.”
I laughed at his tenacity and pointed toward the door.
“Go, and let me get on with some work before Danny catches us skiving. If you need me, you know where to find me.”
He left happier than when he’d arrived, and I got to work. Hours later, I was immersed in numbers when O’Connell walked in, drenched with sweat.
“Hey, sunshine, I’m just grabbing a shower. You about done here?” he asked.
“Sure,” I sighed. “I’ll close down out here and meet you outside.”
“No, stay here where it’s warm, and I’ll come and get you in a minute.”
I shut down the computer and put on my coat and scarf, making sure to turn off the heater and coffee machine. His must have been the quickest shower in history, but I was ready by the time he came for me. He grabbed my bag without asking and threw it over his shoulder with his training bag. The gym was empty by the time we left, but I assumed that Danny was still here as the lights were all on and someone had to lock up.
“You know, Danny was right. When I first came in here the smell was disgusting, and now, I’m so used to it, I can’t smell anything at all.”
O’Connell chuckled at that, and then frowned when I buried myself deeper into my coat as we hit the fresh air.
“Is that your only jacket?” he asked softly.
“Yeah,” I muttered, embarrassed at my poverty. I knew I needed a better one for winter, but I was trying to save as much as I could for school.
“We’ll have snow soon, I can tell. I’ll start bringing my car next week. It’ll keep you warmer on the way home.”
“You drive?” I asked surprised. I’d never seen O’Connell with a car, so I just assumed he didn’t have one.
“Yeah,” he replied sheepishly. “A
Ford Mustang. The boys helped me fix it up a couple of years ago, but I don’t drive it much lately.”
“Why not?” I asked. This time it was his turn to look embarrassed, though he needn’t have.
“I had to give up my job in construction to train with Danny full-time. He’s trying to get us some sponsors, but until I win a few decent fights, it’s gonna be tough. Kier’s Ma is letting me crash with Kier for a bit, rent free, but I’ll probably have to sell the car soon to pay for training. Danny’s offered to help me out with expenses, but I don’t want to take his money. It’s enough to ask him to train me.”
I nodded but didn’t say anything so he’d keep talking.
“I used to make pretty good money bare knuckle boxing, but I promised Danny I wouldn’t do that anymore. I can’t afford to if I try to go pro.”
He looked nervous like he was waiting for my reaction.
“Danny told me you were trying to go professional. He seems to think you have a good chance.”
“What do you think?” he asked. His question puzzled me.
“I don’t know anything about boxing, O’Connell. I think that trying to better yourself at anything is a good thing, especially if it means cutting back on the partying and drinking. But honestly, I worry about you getting hurt fighting with professional boxers.”
He smiled, looking pleased with my answer.
“What?” I questioned at the look on his face.
“It’s kind of nice having someone worry about me.”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me to a stop facing him. He moved in so close that our noses were almost touching.
“Tell me you can feel this. I need to know I’m not the only one,” he spoke gently.
“I feel it,” I whispered, staring at the ground. “But I’m not doing anything about it. Everything that you make me feel is completely overwhelming, and I can’t give you what you need, not even close. I don’t want to talk about why I am this way, but just offering you friendship is a big deal for me right now.”
I finished my rant feeling more desperate than ever. This big, strong, beautiful, terrifying man had feelings for me, but seriously how long would they last? I was getting better, but I was afraid of my own shadow most of the time. I was small, weak, and lacked any self-confidence. O’Connell was dangerous, addictive, and so sexy that I was consumed by lust every time we were in the same room together. He used his body like a weapon and the danger attracted women like a magnet. With that many women, all vying for his attention, what little charm I held for him would fade like mist in the morning sun. If I let him in, he had the power to break what little of me was left whole when I couldn’t keep him.
The Hurricane Page 9
