The Hurricane - Page 55/86

“I’m so proud of you, O’Connell,” I told him, and his grin was enormous.

“No one’s ever said that to me before, either.”

“I love you, and I’m proud of you,” I reminded him, and he kissed me fiercely.

“I’m gonna make it my mission to make sure you always feel the same way, baby. Now go and get that sexy arse of yours dressed so that we can start this date.”

I kissed him quickly then hopped out of bed, wrapping the sheet around me. O’Connell might know my body intimately, but that didn’t mean that I was comfortable flaunting it in front of him in the cold light of day. He slapped my backside and watched me jump. I could tell that he didn’t have any such reservations about my naked body. The gleam in his eyes told me I’d better be quick, or I’d find myself naked and in bed again.

I couldn’t even remember what the movie we saw was about. What I remembered was cuddling into O’Connell’s side to share a bucket of popcorn and being late for bowling because we couldn’t stop holding hands and kissing in the car park.

“Fuck me, the lovebirds finally made it,” welcomed Tommy, as we found them in a lane already loading everyone’s names into the computer.

“Don’t get jealous, Tom. Con might be taken, but I’m still free,” Kieran reassured him by patting his thigh, as he carried on loading names. Tommy dropped the cocky look and stared at Kieran.

“I’m fucking worried about you, ya know,” he responded, tipping his beer toward Kieran. “For the millionth fucking time, I am NOT gay, and if you pat my leg or squeeze my knee one more time, you’re gonna be pulling back a stump!”

O’Connell sat down and pulled me onto his lap. He was grinning broadly, and I had to stifle a giggle.

Kieran stopped typing, turned to see that Tommy wasn’t joking, and then quick as a flash leaned over and kissed Tommy on the cheek.

“That’s it! You’re fucking dead!” he screamed. Shoving his beer onto the table, he launched himself at Kieran, who was laughing so hard that he only made a half-hearted attempt to defend himself. Mac and the other guys whooped and hollered at Tommy trying to give Kieran a hiding, throwing bits of their popcorn at them by way of encouragement. I looked around us, worried that the boys might be getting a little too rowdy for the other patrons, but the lanes on either side of us were empty, with most of the families down at the other end. I guessed the staff had taken one look at my boys and decided to separate us from the general population. After their little scuffle, the guys settled down and got serious about their bowling. I thought this was a Saturday afternoon pastime for kids and elderly people—but wisely kept my opinion to myself. With how competitive they all were, you’d think they were contenders for an Olympic gold. When Tommy won with a final strike, I thought he was going to pee himself. As I sat there cuddled into O’Connell and watching the boys laughing and messing with each other, I realised that this motley band of brothers were my brothers now. From the outside, people viewed them as I once did—big, loud, and intimidating. They were all of that, but they were also mine and there wasn’t one of these boys, whether I was O’Connell’s girl or not, who wouldn’t stand between Frank and me. That wasn’t friendship; it was family. That was what my mum should have done for me.

“You okay?” O’Connell whispered as he rubbed my back in gentle circles. I turned to kiss him on the cheek.

“I’m fine, baby. Just contemplating how much I love this bunch of misfits.” I laughed as O’Connell actually scowled.

“I love them like brothers, you idiot, not like I love you.”

“This is one of those insecure moments I was telling you about. I need you to wrap yourself around me and kiss me until I’m feeling better,” he pouted.

Giggling, I wrapped my arms around his neck and proceeded to cover him in silly sloppy kisses. He grinned back, knowing this wasn’t what he meant, but loving it anyway.

“Get a room,” the guys all shouted, throwing popcorn at us.

“Fuck off.” O’Connell grinned and hugged me closer.

We went from the bowling alley to the arcade, where O’Connell helped me play all the games I never played as a teenager. When the guys all gravitated toward the ‘shoot ‘em up’ games, O’Connell gave me his little boy face. I rolled my eyes and told him to join them. Armed with a pocket full of change, courtesy of my boyfriend, I went exploring. The guys found me half an hour later going head to head with thirteen-year-old Lily on the dance machine. She was absolutely flipping awesome at that thing. She’d spotted me milling about with a fist full of change and challenged me. I quickly realised that I’d been suckered, when I noticed the name “LILY M.” appeared seven times on the top scorer’s board. We were burning through the change pretty quickly, but my score for Shakira’s “Hips don’t lie” wasn’t too shabby at all, and before the boys even got there we’d drawn quite a teen crowd. As good as my score was, it wasn’t enough to beat her, but I accepted my defeat with good grace and a little bow to the crowd. A year ago, I would never even have gone into a place like this, and here I was dancing in public and playing to a crowd. My boys gave me the biggest cheer of all. I smiled, but I knew that my cheeks were burning red. The rest of the day flew by in a myriad of happy memories, and it was a day that will stay with me for the rest of my life. It was the first day that I’d ever woken up happy and gone to bed the same way. We finally left the boys at the Royal Oak pub where the drinks were flowing as well as the women. I walked home hand in hand with the man I loved, and when he made me a cup of tea to take to bed after fixing my heater, I fell in love with him a little more.

I WOULDN’T SAY THAT from then on we spent every waking moment together, because we didn’t. The very next day, O’Connell was long gone before my alarm went off, back to Danny’s brutal schedule. His next big fight was January, and he was taking this seriously. We were talking about both our futures now. I had end of term exams before Christmas, so my time was divided between class and the library, but it wasn’t really that much of a hardship, given my love of maths. Nikki struggled a little with some of the course material, but she was a quick study and a hard worker, so after a few study sessions she clicked with some of the concepts that she didn’t have the hang of in class. I think we were both good influences on Max, Albie, and Ryan, who spent as many nights in the warm library as we did. I suspected that O’Connell or Mac had said something to Albie because none of the guys ever let me walk home alone. I was still cautious and had good reason to be, but the fear didn’t own me anymore. I had a life, and I was busy living it, but those four days until the weekend were worth the wait. O’Connell was so exhausted that sometimes he’d only make it through the door long enough to shower and scarf down a meal, before falling asleep with his head in my lap while I stroked my fingers through his hair and watched cheesy movies. We were building a future together, and our foundation was a million stolen, wondrous moments like this, and it was a foundation stronger than rock. Every love letter, every kiss, every laugh and shared memory—they were all tiny bricks that paved the road on which we walked. One day, I would look back on the journey, and I’d know there wasn’t a single one of those memories that I’d regret making. That wasn’t to say that we never argued though. There were days that he’d finish training and pick me up to see me chatting with one of the maths geeks, and he’d lose his temper, until I reassured him that I wasn’t going to leave him for a civil engineer or a physicist. There were other times when I’d see girls eying him up as though his clothes were made of edible chocolate spread, and I’d be grumpy, not wanting to admit why. We were yet to have an argument, though, that didn’t end up with one of us laughing. O’Connell loved it when I argued back. Bit by bit, the timid little mouse who flinched before him was disappearing. When I raised my voice, which admittedly didn’t happen often, it reminded him of how strong I’d become. That was the thing about love, I’d discovered. It wasn’t about having a blissfully wonderful relationship where everything was always sunshine and roses. No matter how pure and beautiful your love was, life could be cruel and ugly. It would throw things at your relationship when you were tired and broke. It would be strained and tested through the worst of storms. Real love, though, the kind that saw couples live through sixty years of World Wars and recessions and still let them stare at each other on their death bed with the same devotion that they felt on their wedding day, love like that, well, it lasted forever.