10.
Maggie
My head swam when Shay’s warm lips captured mine, and I lost the ability to think straight. I hadn’t been expecting him to do that, especially not when I was so concentrated on admiring his artwork. The shock of it trapped a gasp in my lungs. It came out as a pleasured sigh, and I’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for how hungrily Shay was kissing me.
He kissed me like he’d been thinking about doing it for a while. The very thought had butterflies flittering around in my stomach causing havoc.
His lips were firm, his tongue flicking along my bottom lip before his kiss grew hungrier. I felt like he was drinking me in, savouring me. His nose traced along mine, the gesture making my heart pound with how sweet it was. His hand came up to cup my jaw, and I didn’t know what to do with my own hands. I was floundering, eventually resting them on his solid shoulders before wrapping them around his neck.
I should’ve stopped him, should’ve placed my hands on his chest and gently pushed him away, but I didn’t. Couldn’t. I was completely lost in him, lost in the way his tongue entered my mouth, hesitant at first but then with a building confidence and hunger. His hard, lean chest hovered over me, his breathing choppy as his tongue melded with mine, tasting me, and I sighed into the kiss.
The sound seemed to do something to him because he pushed me deeper onto the bed, my back hitting the mattress as his hand went to my knee, then slowly travelled up my outer thigh. Need sizzled hot under my skin as I slid my hand around the back of his neck, my fingers sifting through the short ends of his hair. He seemed to be driven by the same need because he came willingly, settling above me as he continued kissing me in a way that made my insides go a little haywire.
Only a minute ago, we were sitting side by side looking at this art. How on earth were we kissing? And why did it feel so good?
We broke apart, both gasping for air. Shay’s eyes travelled over my face, his breathing ragged as he caressed my cheek, gazing at me like he didn’t believe I was real. My heart fluttered. I was still so caught up in the shock of him kissing me, my brain too scrambled to form a coherent thought. His look was apologetic then, and he sat back. I sat up, too, and he lifted his hands as though to sign something, but then he lowered them and grabbed his phone instead.
Was that okay?
It didn’t take too long for me to read the short question. I brought my eyes to his, my expression sincere. “It was more than okay,” I paused, a blush heating my cheeks before a shy smile tugged at my lips. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
Shay smiled back at me, his eyes on mine for a long moment before they grew heated, his smile transforming into a smoulder as his attention returned to my lips. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch careful and soft. My stomach erupted into butterflies once more. He leaned closer, and I thought he was going to kiss me again when suddenly his dad called up the stairs.
“Dinner’s ready!”
Reluctantly, Shay drew back, then stood. I sat there, my brain still trying to adjust to what happened as I watched him pick up the folder of artwork he’d shoved off my lap in his haste to kiss me. I wondered what had come over him. Why he’d seemed so suddenly overcome with passion.
Some of the pages had fallen free, and my gaze caught on a drawing. It was a pencil sketch, not filled in with colour yet. I could only see half of it because it was obscured by other pages, but it was obviously a drawing of someone’s face …
No, surely not.
The one eye and part of the nose I could see were familiar. A little too familiar. Had he drawn a picture of me? Shay finished gathering the papers, and I turned my attention away to ensure he didn’t catch me looking. I focused on fixing my shirt, which had gotten a little rumpled during our kiss, my heart pounding the entire time.
Had Shay really drawn me?
I didn’t know what to do with that information. Artists didn’t draw pictures of just anyone, right? Surely, it meant something. Then I thought about our kiss. He’d laid it on me right before I was about to see the picture. Did that mean he’d only kissed me to distract me from seeing it? Insecurity trickled in because I thought Shay had kissed me because he’d wanted to, but now I wasn’t so sure. I understood he might be self-conscious about the drawing. Had he sketched me because he found me interesting or intriguing in some way, or did he distract me from seeing it because he hadn’t wanted me to come to that kind of incorrect, fanciful conclusion? Perhaps he’d only drawn me because he needed a subject, and I was merely the first person who came to mind.
Feeling confused, I watched as Shay put his folder away in a drawer, then followed him back downstairs to the kitchen. I retook my seat at the table while Shay helped his father with serving everyone, just as he had last week.
“This looks delicious, Eugene,” Stephanie complimented.
The roast lamb, rosemary potatoes and red wine gravy were making my mouth water, and I hadn’t even tasted them yet.
“I’m glad to hear it. Dig in,” Eugene said before turning his attention to me. “Well, Maggie. What did you think of Shay’s art?”
Shay slid into the seat next to mine. I could feel his warmth at my side, could remember the feel of his lips, hungry and firm yet somehow gentle at the same time. I was still on a bit of a high to be honest, even if I was confused over his motivations for kissing me. I was also full of curiosity to see the picture I suspected he’d drawn of me. I’d never enjoyed being photographed, had even said no to Mr Cole when he’d asked if he could paint me some day. So, why was I so flattered and intrigued Shay had drawn me?
Okay, I needed to get a hold of myself. As I’d said, he might’ve drawn me purely for practice. There might not be any deeper reason.
“It’s wonderful,” I replied finally, glancing at Shay. “Your son is very talented.”
Our eyes met, and again, I was back in his room, him hovering over me as we kissed. I wondered what might’ve happened if we weren’t interrupted? Would he have kissed me a second time? Would it have gone further than a kiss? Was that what I wanted? Was it what he wanted? After all, him kissing me might not mean as much to him as it meant to me.
“I didn’t know you were an artist,” Stephanie said, eyeing Shay curiously. I recalled Shay saying he thought Stephanie didn’t like him, but I didn’t get that sense from her. Her pretty brown eyes seemed open and friendly. There was nothing to indicate dislike.
Instead of answering her, he merely nodded and began eating his dinner. There was a flicker of hurt in her gaze when he didn’t try to converse with her further, but like me, she probably didn’t know sign language, and it wasn’t like he was going to start typing out a whole conversation during dinner.
I sat quietly next to Shay while Eugene, Rhys and Stephanie spoke about the upcoming Christmas season at the Balfe Hotel. Stephanie spoke of how it was the busiest time for her because they put together luxury packages for the guests. Shay rested his knee against mine, and I glanced up, finding his eyes on me. He smiled, then resumed eating, and my chest constricted as I wondered if he was thinking about our kiss. Perhaps he had been overcome with need, and it wasn’t about distracting me at all. It had certainly felt that way, his hunger, the way he’d cupped my cheek. I couldn’t stop replaying it my head.
It had been years since somebody kissed me, years since I’d felt so … so desired.
“I suppose they put on a big spread for the guests on Christmas day,” Eugene said to Stephanie, distracting me from my thoughts of Shay.
“Oh, yes, you should see the dinner they serve,” she replied. “It’s absolutely sensational.”
“I’ve invited Eugene and Shay to come stay at the hotel for Christmas numerous times,” Rhys put in. “But they always decline.”
“I can’t be letting myself experience that level of luxury,” Eugene countered with a chuckle. “I’ll get used to it, and then I won’t want to come back here to my humdrum life.” He paused, glancing fondly at his nephew. “Besides, I know the Balfes are like a second family to you. We get you every Sunday. The least we can do is let them have you for Christmas.”
“What about you, Maggie?” Stephanie asked, including me in the conversation. “What do you usually do for Christmas?”
“Oh,” I replied, dabbing my lips with a napkin, “Well, on Christmas Eve, I normally go to visit my half-siblings who live with their foster parents. I bring them presents, and we hang out. Then on Christmas day, I sometimes have dinner with my upstairs neighbour, Siobhan, if she isn’t going to see her grandkids.”
I sensed Shay studying me, and I suddenly felt embarrassed, belatedly realising my answer revealed more than I’d intended. It was only some years Siobhan stayed home on Christmas, and I typically spent the day alone. I flicked my gaze to the side and found Shay’s eyes on my profile. He rested his knee more fully against mine. I looked away quickly and shovelled some potatoes into my mouth. Glancing around the table, I saw Eugene, Rhys and Stephanie were all clearly trying to disguise their pity.
Was I really so pathetic? It was tough spending Christmas alone, sure, but it was far better than spending it homeless, which had been the case a few times in my teens.
Eugene cleared his throat. “If your neighbour isn’t home this year, you’re more than welcome to come have dinner with us. Ross and Dawn are hosting. They live just over in Drumcondra.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I’m sure Siobhan will be around.”
More than likely, she wouldn’t be, but it was a small lie to save my pride. I could tell Shay was still staring at me, but I refused to look at him.
“Well, let us know if you change your mind. It’s only November, but I’ve already ordered an organic free-range turkey for Dawn.”
“It’s never too early to order a turkey,” I replied with a smile.
We ate in quiet for a minute or two before Rhys asked Shay, “Did you check out that app I sent you?”
Shay shook his head, cast me a quick glance, then signed something at Rhys.
“I just thought it would be helpful,” Rhys replied.
Shay signed something else.
“Fine, don’t use it, then. It was only a suggestion.”
I was wondering what exactly they were talking about when Stephanie caught my gaze. “Don’t you speak sign language, Maggie?”
“Hmm? Oh, no. Shay and I haven’t known each other very long, but I’m hoping to learn at some point, and Shay has taught me some.”
Her eyebrows shot right up. “But then how do you both communicate?”
“Well,” I began, casting a quick glance at Shay, who appeared to be wrestling with a frown. I wondered if Stephanie had done something to him he hadn’t mentioned because she seemed nice enough to me. It certainly didn’t seem like she hated him or anything. “As I said, Shay’s taught me a small bit of sign language. Otherwise, we communicate through texts.” I left out the part that it took me forever to read his messages and how that stunted our conversations greatly. Perhaps it was a testament to the connection we shared we still tried to get to know one another despite our struggles.
“That must be time consuming,” Stephanie said.
“Not really,” I replied, mustering a smile as I glanced at Shay. He was still looking at Stephanie with a hint of annoyance. “Shay types incredibly fast.”
“Still, you must be very patient.”
“Steph,” Rhys said, his eyebrows drawing together.
“What?” she asked. “I was only making an observation.”
Hmm, that was a little snippy. Maybe Shay was onto something about Stephanie after all. I should never have questioned his judgement. I knew how much more observant he was than the typical person.
“I have every intention of learning sign language, so it’s only temporary,” I said, knocking my knee against Shay’s, a small, silent way of checking in with him. He finally drew his gaze away from Stephanie to glance at me, and his features softened.
“It’s a very interesting skill to learn,” Eugene said. “Really makes you understand human communication in a way you don’t through the spoken word. And I bet you’ll learn fast since you have Shay to talk with. Like learning any language, you learn faster when you can apply it practically.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” I said, and the conversation changed to other topics. I noticed Eugene glancing at me once or twice with some kind of admiration in his eyes. He seemed touched I intended to go out of my way to learn how to talk with his son.
When we finished eating, I insisted on helping Shay with the dishes, and we managed to convince Eugene to go into the living room and put his feet up. Rhys and Stephanie had to leave to meet some of their friends for drinks, so it was just Shay and ne in the kitchen.
I quietly washed while he dried. I wanted to ask him about the picture I’d seen in his bedroom, or well, the half of a picture I’d seen. My mind was convinced it was me, but perhaps I was wrong. For all I knew, it could be a portrait of some other woman who just so happened to look a little bit like me.
I also wanted to ask him why he’d kissed me, so I could quit feeling so insecure about the whole thing.
“I see now what you meant about Stephanie,” I said, breaking the quiet. “I didn’t get it at first because she seemed nice, but there was something about her. I can’t quite put my finger on it. The way she was so baffled by me being patient enough to talk to you through text. I mean, has she even—”
I caught myself before I finished the sentence, realising I’d been about to reveal just how much I fancied Shay, how mesmerising and attractive and interesting I found him. I focused on scrubbing a particularly difficult spot on the oven tray I was washing when I heard him place a cup he’d been drying down on the countertop. I felt him step close and stilled, my hands still immersed in the sudsy water. Just as he’d done in my flat last week, he caught my chin and turned my face to his, his eyes capturing mine. His expression was questioning.
It said, Finish what you were going to say, Maggie.
How was I getting so good at reading his thoughts just from looking at his facial expressions?
My gaze fluttering down and then back up, I flushed, self-consciously dragging my teeth across my lower lip. His gaze followed the movement, and there was definite heat there. I blew out a breath, his warm fingers still on my chin when I said, “I was just going to say, has she even met you? You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever … and … and …” Heart racing, I really didn’t want to finish the sentence, but I had to be honest with him. He stepped closer, the heat of his body practically singeing mine. I was trapped with my hands still in the sink. I swallowed thickly and finished, “And you’re very attractive, Shay. I find you attractive. I don’t know any woman who wouldn’t.”
His fingers on my chin moved to cup my cheek, and my pulse pounded even faster. His gaze continued to hold mine captive, and I found myself suddenly rambling, “Not that your looks are the only reason I like you. I’ve always … I’ve been aware of you on the bus for a long time. I thought about you a lot, even before you helped me that Friday with the drunk guy.”
Shay tilted his head, his attention divided between my eyes and my lips. Was he going to kiss me again? A shadow of frustration entered his gaze as he stepped away and pulled out his phone. Relief flooded me, and I took a moment to just breathe. I rinsed out the oven dish and set it aside, then pulled out the sink plug before removing the rubber gloves I had on. Shay handed me his phone.
What did you think about me?
I was still incredibly embarrassed we were even talking about it, but I soldiered on. “I suppose I wondered about you. As I said, you’re an interesting person. You have a presence. I wondered about what kind of life you led, where you worked, if you had a wife or a girlfriend. The possibilities are endless, really. A stranger can be anyone if you let your imagination run wild.”
Shay’s eyes were glued to me, his expression intense. He typed out another message and handed me his phone once more. I was so flustered by the moment of honesty it took me even longer than normal to read his text. I mouthed the words to myself.
I wondered those same things about you.
My skin heated as I placed his phone down and stepped back, leaning against the counter as I tried to untangle everything I was feeling. My eyes were on the floor as I endeavoured to calm down. I knew Shay was watching me, gauging my reaction. I lifted my eyes and found his full of need. “Can I ask you something?” He nodded, and I continued, “Were you trying to distract me from something when you kissed me earlier?”
His gaze darkened. My pulse pounded as I waited for his response.
In the next room, the television was loud, so I knew his dad couldn’t hear us. Shay’s eyes heated as he stepped close, took my hand in his, then led me from the room. I could hardly breathe as we ascended the stairs and he brought me back to his bedroom, his large palm warm against mine. He let go and went to retrieve the folder he’d put in a drawer earlier. Flicking through it, he pulled out a sheet of paper, then turned and handed it to me. It was a pencil sketch, the one I’d caught half a glimpse of before, and my breathing hitched as I studied it.
How had he captured my likeness so well? For someone who went out of her way to avoid looking in the mirror, I was surprised by how I couldn’t stop staring at the drawing. It was me through Shay’s eyes, and it was mesmerising. I traced my fingers over the sweeps and lines of my face, the delicate strands of my hair that swept across my forehead. Emotion caught in my throat because he saw me. He saw me when, to most of the world, I was invisible.
Up until that point, I thought I liked things that way, but now that I was experiencing the sensation of being seen, I realised all that I’d been missing out on.
Unlike the picture that hung in a frame downstairs, the one in my hands had initials at the bottom, but not just initials. There was also a date. Shay had drawn the picture months ago, long before we’d properly met.
“You drew this in the summer?” I asked, my voice more air than sound.
Shay moved closer, taking the picture from my hand and setting it on his desk. I sucked in a breath as he stood before me, barely an inch between us. His hand came up to caress my cheek, his look saying so much more than words ever could. Maybe he had kissed me to distract me from seeing the picture, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t wanted to do it, too.
That he hadn’t been thinking about it.
For a second, fear caught in my throat. It was everything I’d spent most of my life avoiding, developing these kinds of intense feelings for another person. I knew it was an odd comparison to make, but my first love had been my own mother, and she’d broken my heart irrevocably.
Ever since then, I’d been doing everything in my power to protect myself from the same kind of emotional devastation. But that right there, the way Shay could make me feel from just a single look, had the power to ruin me. He terrified me, but in a way that froze me in place, captivated, instead of urging me to run away in fear.
“I like it when you touch me,” I whispered as his hand travelled from my cheek to the bare skin at my neck. I heard him inhale right before he bent and pressed his mouth to the exact spot he just caressed. I trembled, and he kissed me again, sending a bolt of arousal shooting through my body.
“Shay,” I whimpered, and then his mouth was on mine, and I closed my eyes. His kiss was gentle that time, explorative where earlier it had been shocking and full of need. His hand swept around to cup the back of my neck, while his other hand went to my waist, pulling me close. His lips were soft, his taste drugging, and I found myself falling into the sensation.
Our tongues met in a gentle dance, and his breathing turned gruff as his arm tightened around me like a steel vise. I felt captured, imprisoned in the very essence of him, a place I was quite happy never to leave.
The kiss deepened but then gentled once more, and finally, he released me. We both were breathing heavily, and my eyes fell to his bed. I wanted to lie down with him and let him kiss me for hours, but his dad was right downstairs, obliviously watching the television.
Shay’s eyes followed mine to his bed, and he sent me a desperate look like he was begging me not to give him ideas. For some reason, it caused a soft laugh to escape me.
“Don’t worry,” I murmured. “I wouldn’t dream of going near your bed with your dad downstairs.”
A breath left him, like a silent groan. He’d left his phone downstairs, so he went to his desk and snagged a scrap of paper before scribbling something for me to read.
What if he wasn’t downstairs?
Now, I chuckled, and Shay smiled that heart-stopping smile of his. I swiped him gently on the shoulder, exhilarated by his flirting. “It’s still his house. It wouldn’t be right.”
Something in his heated expression said he disagreed with me. I needed to change the subject; otherwise, I might give in and drag him to his bed anyway. Remembering the odd exchange between him and Rhys during dinner, I asked, “What was the app Rhys was talking about earlier?
Shay’s expression seemed hesitant like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell me about it. Finally, he picked up the scrap of paper and wrote, It’s a text to speech app. He suggested it as a way for us to communicate more freely.
I felt a headache coming on when I managed to decipher what he’d written, though I couldn’t tell if it was because of my dyslexia or from what it inferred. If Rhys was suggesting a text to speech app, then that meant Shay must’ve told him about my reading difficulties. The familiar shame swept in, and I found it hard to breathe for a second.
Suddenly, my brain was concocting all sorts of scenarios, like Rhys scoffing at me being a grown woman who couldn’t read very well, or him and Stephanie out with their friends, laughing about the ridiculous situation of a woman who couldn’t read seeing a man who couldn’t speak.
I tried telling myself it was my own lack of self-esteem that created these fictional scenarios. That in real life people were far more understanding of learning difficulties. But I still couldn’t shake the feeling of being exposed when I hadn’t given permission. I was unhappy with Shay telling his cousin about me when I’d told him about my dyslexia in confidence.
I blinked to dispel the moisture forming in my eyes, my nose stinging in a way that told me tears weren’t far behind. My hands shook a little, and I plastered on a smile that wobbled at the edges as I tried to disguise my upset. “An app like that could certainly be useful for us. I better get going.”
Leaving his room, I hurried down the stairs, grabbing my coat and scarf before he had the chance to help me with them. I noticed him picking up his own coat, so I turned to him, placing a hand lightly on his chest, “No, I … I’d like to walk home alone today if that’s all right.”
His eyes were questioning, his expression falling at my statement. I hated myself at that moment, but I needed some time to untangle my feelings. Shay might not have understood my need to keep things about myself private. Rhys was his cousin and one of his closest friends, someone he obviously liked to confide in. But my secrets weren’t his to share, and I didn’t know how to explain that to him right then, so I needed to go.
Shay opened the door for me, and I stepped out. His expression was still crestfallen as I turned to him. “Please let your father know I appreciated you both having me for dinner again.”
Then I turned and walked away.