Chapter 25
You know it's a love story, right?
Paddy
I don’t need anyone to point out the legs walking down the steps of the bleachers towards our spot on the field. However, my prick of a mate hasn’t shut up since before kick-off.
“If you’re seriously not going to ask that girl out, I think I will.”
“Shut up.”
He laughs. “Relax. I’m only yanking your bollocks.” He gives me a pat on the shoulder.
Still, my teeth grind together, jaw flexing causing pain to pang in my gums. “Well cut it out.”
My eyes had trained on Morgan just before the game started like a fly on shit.
Alright, disgusting analogy, but it fits.
I couldn’t get enough of her. Can’t get enough of her.
I caught a movement in the corner of my eye and that was me done in for forty-five minutes.
I was sloppy on the ball and let too many players get past me.
Last time I played was a couple of years ago, but I don’t think it matters.
I wasn’t going to play well tonight regardless, and it has everything to do with the girl taking the final step in my direction.
Reaching down behind the railing separating spectators from the pitch, I pick up Evie again.
“Uncle Paddy,” she wails, voice shrieking. “You scored the winning goal.” The homemade banner in her hands wraps around my neck.
“I know, I saw.”
Evie playfully rolls her eyes at me. “I would have liked a few more goals, though.”
“A few more?” I ask surprised, chancing a glance at Morgan.
Evie nods joyfully. “Grandma Siobhan was so excited, she almost peed her pants. It was so funny. Another goal or two and she definitely would have done.”
I scrunch up my nose, laughing. “Old ladies do that from time to time.”
She giggles, covering her mouth, and I glance over her shoulder again, watching as Morgan hugs my mum and dad one after the other. Her legs are like pins, long and slim. I want to lick them. Want to run my tongue over the length of them, starting from her toes all the way to her thighs…
“Uh, Uncle Paddy?”
Fuck. I can’t be thinking those thoughts.
I lift my gaze to the small, chocolate button eyes looking down at me.
“You can put me down now.”
I wish I could, kid. But I fear if I’m not holding onto something or someone, I’m going to have to fight the urge to pick Morgan up and throw her over my shoulder like a caveman.
“I’ll carry you. You must be tired,” I insist.
Looking at the watch on her wrist, her eyes pop open a little wider. “It’s only just past eight, I’m not tired. Plus, Grandpa Frank said me and him could watch Titanic together when we get home.”
“Titanic?”
She nods enthusiastically.
I laugh. “You know it’s a love story, right?”
She huffs. “Nu-uh.”
“It is.”
“No. Grandma Siobhan said people die on a boat.”
I look at her again. “She only said that to make you want to watch it. Trust me, it’s a chick flick. And it’s a ship. Not a boat.”
“Oh that cheeky devil,” she grumbles, sounding just like my mum. “She tried to pull a fast one on me.” Her eyes suddenly turn mischievous. “I’ll show her.”
I dread to think what that means.
I should probably give Mum a heads up.
Dropping Evie to the floor, a waft of sweet honey and crisp apple hits my nose.
She’s close.
My girl. She’s almost within touching distance. And now I have nothing in my hands to distract me.
Grabbing the nearest person, I pull Danny back towards me.
“What are you doing?” he gripes.
I bring him into my side. “Well played today.” I ignore him trying to pull away and sling a hand over his shoulder.
“Paddy. Get off.”
My hands grip him harder when Morgan turns to face me.
Oh fuck, I can see her chest, too.
She smiles at me bashfully, but my eyes drop to the round mountains on her front. This is a whole new light that I’m seeing the girl I’ve spent almost every day with for the past two months in.
She’s gorgeous.
And off limits.
Danny pulls away as Morgan steps closer.
There’s a few awkward seconds that pass between us before Danny breaks the silence. “He did good, didn’t he?” He slaps my back harder than necessary.
Morgan tucks one of the long, curly locks of golden hair behind her ear. “Yeah. You were amazing, Paddy.”
I clam up, unable to open my fucking mouth to talk to her. I’m staring at the knockout girl of my dreams and I’m unable to form any words. Jesus Christ.
Danny, the stupid bollocks that he is, gives me a disapproving look before smirking at me.
I scowl at him, clearing my throat before I manage to say, “Thanks.”
Danny snorts under his breath like we’re teenagers again. “Where’d your friend get to?”
Morgan’s looking at me when I look at Danny, her eyes following my path when she realises Danny’s talking to her. “Who, Sarah?”
Danny nods, looking up at the people leaving the bleachers. “I can’t see her.”
“She told me to let you know that she was up for getting a drink after the game.”
His eyes widen at the invitation. “Oh, you bet your tight, round arse I do.”
I whack his arm, making him grimace as he rubs the area.
“What? You know I’m right.” He nods at Morgan.
Morgan turns away, clearly feeling out of her depth with my mate who has a way with his words.
“Danny, shut the fuck up.”
He laughs. “Alright, Pads.” He holds out a hand to me gingerly. “Tell your mum I’ll have to pass on dinner.”
Mum’s suddenly in his face. “Oh no you don’t, Danny Boy,” she sings, her accent huskier from all her cheering. “I made enough to feed everyone.”
He pulls the back of his neck. “Sorry, Mrs O, I think I bagged myself a date.”
Mum beams at Danny. “Bring her along. The more the merrier.”
Morgan chuckles and it makes me relax.
“Morgan?” Danny queries, as she swings her head to look at him, her plush lips rolling together. “Do you think she’ll come?” he asks hopefully.
Pulling out her phone, Morgan starts tapping the screen. “I’ll ask her.”
“Excellent,” my mother chimes, turning her back to the three of us, ushering my old man and Evie to leave.
“I’ll grab a shower back at mine then head over,” Danny tells me, giving me another pat on the shoulder.
“Right,” is all I reply, watching Morgan with a little more composure than I had a few minutes ago.
Once Danny’s gone, and it’s just me and her left standing by the edge of the pitch, the way she’s looking at me makes my heart ache. It’s longing and deep.
Knowing that I simply care too goddamn much for this girl, I ask, “Will you be okay getting home?” hoping and praying that she doesn’t think I’m a knob for trying to protect her. I can’t let her get too close, even though being close to her is the only way I know I can help her.
Her lips part, but she doesn’t say a word.
I force myself to keep going, “Because I can give you a lift if you need one?”
Morgan’s wounded look is enough to let me know I’ve said the wrong thing. “You don’t want me to come for dinner?”
Of course I do. “Do you want to come for dinner? When I didn’t hear back from you this afternoon, I figured it’s probably best I stay away for a while.”
Her rippling ocean eyes bounce between mine. “Only if you want me to. Otherwise, I can go home with Holly. She won’t have got far.”
I inhale deeply. “Of course I want you to come for dinner, curly fries. I just don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” Looking down her body, I feel my dick harden in my shorts.
She smiles, throwing me off balance when she tilts her head in a bold move unlike anything I’ve seen on her recently. “You’re the only one who looks uncomfortable right now, Paddy.”
Give me strength. Willing my dick to stand the fuck down, I blurt out, “You’ve got legs, Morgan.” My eyes flit down to her ankles, and the sweet laugh, followed by her snort has my cheeks pulling high on my face. “You know what I mean.”
Her eyes eat me the same way, dropping down my thighs. “You certainly pull off those shorts better than number seven did, Paddy O’Keefe.” She giggles again, tucking both hands into the pockets of her jacket.
“Well it’s not hard when your teammates are twice your age and size.”
“That’s mean.”
“It’s facts,” I tell her grinning. After a beat, we both stare at each other, both noticeably feeling the heat between us. “So, you’ll come to dinner?”
There’s a moment of silence, but when Morgan replies, it’s with confidence and affection. “I’d love to.”
“Staring at her like that won’t make her like you,” I affirm, shooting Danny a look from my seat beside him.
He continues staring at Sarah. “Seems to work for you.” He nods to Morgan, who’s eyeing me from her place in the kitchen.
Those who were invited back for dinner have eaten. Now we’re sitting in my parents’ living room watching a game on TV. I run a hand down my face before taking a sip of my beer.
During dinner, I felt desperate. Sitting next to Morgan, all I wanted to do was reach down a hand and touch her.
Feel her soft skin. Anything to get a fix.
I tried not to overstep any invisible line, but it was so fucking hard to ignore the delicious curves of her body and the swell of her breasts pushed up behind her top.
Tonight was an improvement on earlier, when Morgan looked so lost and confused being dragged away from me. I want to ask her what changed, but I can see it in how she is with Sarah.
Having her friends is what’s helped.
“You not going to talk to her?”
I nod and throw my mate a wink. “When she’s ready.”
Pops and Evie are settled in his armchair, both of them staring down at the screen of the device on her lap. I keep seeing him swipe at his eye every now and then.
Oh yeah, they’re watching Titanic alright.
“Have you heard from Jake?”
I shake my head. “No. But I was with Catherine today.”
His eyes widen. “What you doing seeing her?”
I shrug again, knowing that I owe him some sort of explanation for acting like a dick the last time we went drinking. “I spoke to her about the accident.” It’s not a total lie.
“That’s good, Pads. Pleased you finally talked to someone. I’ve been worried about you.”
I slap his leg with the back of my hand. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine, mate.”
He gives me a stern nod. “And Morgan?”
I look at her through the hatch connecting the living room to the kitchen. “We’re friends,” I say, placating him.
Or so I thought.
“Yeah, and I’m the Patron Saint of Ireland.”
I glance at him, rolling my lips together. “Don’t let my mother hear you roasting her baby boy.”
He tuts, rolling his eyes. “Or what?”
I can’t contain my laugh. “She’ll string you out to dry, princess.”
He eyes me wearily. “Seriously, Pads. There’s no way anyone’s buying that you and Morgan are just friends.” The bastard uses air quotes, unable to drop it.
“Leave it, Danny.”
“No, soppy bollocks.” He leans closer, placing his beer on the coffee table. “I know you’ve got it bad for her.”
“Shut up. We’re not nineteen anymore. It’s not that simple.”
“Well, you look like you did when you were nineteen and came home to find her at your place with Fi.”
My neck snaps to him.
He points between his eyes and mine with two fingers. “I see it. The same as I did back then.”
I glare at him. Motherfucker would have to go and remember that night of all the nights we’ve spent shitfaced together.
The night I came home wrecked and spewed my guts up in the bathroom.
The only one who came to check on my misfortune was the girl with the curly fries.
The girl who stayed with me to make sure I didn’t choke on my own vomit.
I never mentioned remembering her doing that, but I’ve never forgotten it.
“Since when have you been so deep?”
Danny shrugs, laughing as he calls me out. “I always have been. You’ve just never taken the time to see it.”
“Bullshit,” I throw back at him.
“No, no, Paddy, I’m not dumb. Even though I know you and Jake see me as the failure of the trio, staying in Stoney Grange hasn’t been all that bad for me.”
“No?” I eye my mate with a serious look.
He flicks his gaze to the floor. “I have my own place, courtesy of my dead grandparents,” he crosses his head like he’s religious all of a sudden, “and I have a good job which earns me good money. But I’ve never had whatever it is that you two have going on between you.”
I drop my gaze, swigging my lukewarm beer. “Jesus, Danny. I didn’t know that was something you wanted.”
“So you admit it’s something?”
I deadpan. “Conniving prick,” I mutter under my breath, before it turns into a disbelieving laugh.
Chuckling, he stands to his feet, grabbing the beer bottle and downing what’s left. Then he looks down at me like I’m an idiot as he hoicks up his jeans. “I never said I wanted what you’ve got.”
Looking over his shoulder, I catch Sarah waving at him seductively.
“But I am pretty certain I want to get my dick wet with that stunner of a woman talking to the girl you refuse to get close to.”
I don’t rise to him, because I’d probably call it a night if I did, knowing he’s right. “Wanker.”
He nods. “Don’t come searching for me, you hear me?”
“I won’t, don’t you worry.”
“But if you hear from Jake, text me. I’ll reply after.”
“After?” I mistakenly ask.
He grins.
“Gross. Go on, fuck off.” I wave him away, laughing as he makes a move on Morgan’s friend.
Poor girl. Danny has never been known for committing.
Always given what he needs, or handed to him on a plate, he’s never known what it really means to have to work for something.
Which seems like a trait that’s going to continue when Sarah grabs her bag and the pair of them make their way to the front door.
“That seat taken?”
Watching Danny, I didn’t see Morgan come into the lounge.
Pops looks over the rim of his glasses at me, smiling like a Cheshire cat when Morgan tries to work out how to sit down with such a short skirt on.
“Has Jack died yet, old man?” I glare at him.
Evie’s face shoots up.
Crap.
“What?” she chokes, looking between me and my old man. “He dies?” Her eyes fill.
Oh, God. An upset Evie is not what I want to have to deal with right now.
Pops’ eyes widen at me. “No, he doesn’t die, sweetheart. He just…”
Grabbing Morgan’s arm, I make a swift retreat from the living room before I’m forced to make up something or my old man gets hold of me.
“Bastard,” Pops moans getting to his feet, before we hear Evie telling him to put money in the jar.
Morgan and I are both laughing, running around the house before I pull her up the stairs and through the first door I come into contact with.
Fuck. What was I thinking?