The Hurricane - Page 23/86

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 the 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.