The Hurricane - Page 30/86

I opened the door to a freshly shaved O’Connell, who smelt so incredible that it took all of my willpower not to stand there slack jawed and gawking. His black shirt moulded perfectly to his sculpted torso and with his sleeves rolled back, even his forearms looked sexy.

“Wow, Em, you look beautiful.”

Seeing him look so fine immediately made me question my own appearance, but the look of hunger on his face restored my confidence. Once again, Nikki had come to my aid with another outfit. Although I felt slightly shamed to be scrounging from her, she really didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she treated me like her dress-up doll. Although I often balked at some of her outfit choices, in truth I bathed in the affection that I imagined sisters might share. It was an affection that my own mother had denied me, and Nikki was unknowingly filling that void. For all intents and purposes, I was like an awkward gangly teenager, struggling through the quagmire of adolescence. Most fifteen-year-olds had more figured out about themselves than I did at twenty. Looking at O’Connell’s face, I said a silent prayer of thanks for Nikki’s help. My buttery soft skirt ended above my knee but was still a respectable length, but the knee-high boots she’d loaned me made my legs feel ridiculously long. Teamed with a fitted black top, my favourite long, silver heart locket, and understated earrings, I was out of my comfort zone, but a lot more at ease than I would have been in my own clothes.

“Shit, Em, those legs go for miles. I’m gonna be cracking heads left, right, and centre tonight.”

I smiled at the implication, but I seriously doubted that he had anything to worry about. I still thought that he was disillusioned for feeling as he did about me, and I worried for the day he would find enlightenment. He held my jacket out to me like a true gentleman, and like that gentleman, he didn’t comment on the fact that the jacket clearly belonged to Nikki. Once I locked the door, I tucked the keys into my pocket.

“Aren’t you taking a bag?” he asked.

“No. I’d only end up leaving it somewhere. My money is in a hidden pocket in my skirt, and I’ll just keep my keys in my jacket.”

“Do you want me to carry them?”

“Thanks,” I replied. Handing them over, I was bemused that it seemed like such a couple thing to do. He slipped his huge fingers between mine and squeezed gently as we walked down together. His black Ford Mustang sat gleaming outside my apartment building, and he grinned as he rushed round to open my door.

“O’Connell, this is your car? It’s gorgeous.”

“Thanks. I figure it’s mine for another month before I have to sell it, so tonight, make the most of having your very own chauffer.”

“You’re not drinking then?” I asked, figuring that he’d want at least a couple of beers tonight.

“Nope. I promised Danny I wouldn’t. Until I get a few decent wins under my belt, this amusement park is now a temple.” He tapped his stomach as he said it, like there was a pinch of anything other than skin on his perfect body.

“Do you have to train in the morning?” I asked, hoping that he’d stay over, knowing how wrong it was for me to lead him on.

“Half day tomorrow. Danny told me to give myself a break and come in at eleven, so we get a lay in together.”

I didn’t say anything as I pondered how to deny him what we both so obviously wanted, but even if he had been my boyfriend, in my heart I knew that I wasn’t ready for sex. Letting him sleep over was unfair when I knew it wouldn’t lead anywhere.

“Hey.” He tilted my chin up, getting inside my head again. “Just friends, right.”

“We’re blurring the lines, O’Connell. We’re not together, but I feel like this weird idea of friendship between us has me reaping all of the benefits and you none of the rewards.”

“Why don’t you let me worry about that, Em.” I looked down at my hands, and I couldn’t help but feel concerned.

“You stress about this shit far too much, okay? Who’s to tell us what friends should or shouldn’t do? If someone tells me that holding your hand, or being close to you when you sleep at night, is wrong because we’re just friends then they can go and fuck themselves. I do it because it makes me feel good, and if you enjoy it, too, then why’s it wrong?”

When he put it like that, I couldn’t see why the thought had me so worked up. I wanted so very badly to throw my lot in with him and tie my life to his as tightly as I could, but Frank had done his work well. The death and destruction of a child’s spirit was not the work of a moment, but a campaign of dedication to that cause. Whether I liked it or not, a few weeks with O’Connell couldn’t repair the kind of damage that Frank had inflicted. I still wasn’t sure that what he had broken inside could ever be fixed, but I did know that when I was with O’Connell, every good, clean part left in me felt alive. As long as he treated that as the gift that it was, I didn’t see any reason to give up on that feeling.

“Listen. Just because I’m staying over, doesn’t mean that things are gonna go any further between us. I need to know that you respect me, and that I’m not just a piece of meat to you before we go all the way.” He was so sincere and sombre faced that I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“You’re making fun of me.” I said, not in the least bit offended.

“No, sunshine, just lightening the mood. I told you that we’re gonna take this slow, and I meant it. Now, tonight I want you to cut loose and have fun, not borrow worry about what other people think. When things go further between us, there won’t be any hesitation because you’ll know you’re ready. So, until then, fuck everyone else.” He grinned.

I smiled back at him, just a little bit more smitten than I was before. After a time, I started tapping my knee up and down, thinking about who would be there tonight and all of the conversation that I’d have to make.

“You okay?” O’Connell asked.

“Sure,” I lied.

We parked up and walked to the club, my hand clasped firmly in O’Connell’s. It was absolutely freezing outside, but my shivering was attributable to more than just the temperature. My stomach clenched at the thought of going into the club. The last few weeks I’d become quietly confident, and my individual contact with each of the fighters had strangely made the gym a safe place for me. It was rare that I spoke to all of the guys as a large group, and now that I’d met everyone, it wasn’t often that I saw any new faces around the place. I was never great with crowds and the last party that I’d been to hadn’t been the best experience. O’Connell was right, though. Tonight was about having fun and celebrating with Mac, and if I could stay out of my own head long enough, it would be a great night.