“Not to go digging for compliments,” he smirks, “but you seemed to enjoy that yourself.”
Letting out a bark of laughter, I say, “Understatement of the year. The century. I’ve never been kissed like that.”
Eamon raises a brow, “Kissed like what, exactly?”
“Like you wanted to give as much as you wanted to take. I didn’t feel like an object or a conquest,” I confess.
“Ach, Norah love,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead, “I could murder the bastards that made you feel that way. A kiss should never be one-sided.”
He pulls me into him and wraps his strong arms around me. I settle in and rest my head on his chest, the sound of his rapid heartbeat mirroring mine and beginning to heal the broken parts of me I never thought could be mended.
Chapter Eighteen
Eamon
I toss and turn most of the night, replaying my kiss with Norah over and over in my mind. I still can’t believe I even asked her, let alone the fact that she consented. I feel like the luckiest bastard alive to have earned her trust like that. And I wasn’t exaggerating when I told her that it was the best kiss of my life. Even my more passionate moments with Rhiannan, and other flings, don’t compare to kissing Norah. Feeling her lips against mine, her tongue meeting mine stroke for stroke, completely consumed me. When she pressed her body against me and made those needy little noises, it was almost my undoing. I know I need to tread carefully, especially physically, given Norah’s history. I don’t want to trigger any memories and fears, but Christ Almighty, do I want her—more than I’ve ever wanted a woman before.
Leaving her had been a cruel form of torture. We had lingered on her porch for half an hour longer, knowing that going inside would be the opposite of taking things slow. I finally forced myself to tell her goodnight. With the match coming up, I was going to need sleep. I stole another gentle kiss from her before walking backward down the sidewalk, grinning.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, right? Your tickets will be at the booth.”
She had cocked her head to the side, a mischievous smirk on her beautiful face. “I don’t know. I’d hate to be a distraction.”
“Ach, love, you’ll be me lucky charm.” I winked at her.
She snorted at my lame joke and said, “I’ll be there. Goodnight, Eamon.” Then she slipped into her house, shutting the door behind her.
* * *
It’s two hours before game time when I arrive at the pitch to get centered. I’m not nervous about playing with Norah in the stands. I’m never nervous when I’m on the pitch, just determined and focused. When I walk into the locker room I find Mac already there.Lovely.
“Hey, man,” Mac says with a nod.
“Mac,” I reply dryly, shoving my gym bag in my assigned locker before sitting on the bench to put my cleats on.
“I can’t believe you came out to the pub last night.Eamon Kennedy doesn’t drink before a match.Isn’t that what you’ve always said?” Mac says mockingly.
“Aye. I don’t. I shouldn’t have let Ro talk me into going,” I say, knotting my laces.
“At least you got some action out of it.” Mac waggles his eyebrows.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on. We all saw you leave with Norah.” He shrugs.
Rolling my eyes, I stand and start to walk out of the room.
“What’s she like in the sack? Quiet girl like her, I bet she’s a tiger…”
Before I can fully register what I’m doing, I have Mac by the collar of his shirt, slamming him into the wall.
“The only reason I’m not knocking you out is because we have a match. But if I ever hear you talk about her that way again, all bets are off. Understand?” My words are quiet but lethal. I shove him into the wall once more for good measure.
“Jesus, man, it was a joke. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Mac stares at me while rubbing the back of his head where it had hit the wall.
I don’t say a word as I walk down the hall to the pitch. I shouldn’t have lost my temper with Mac, but the fact that he was eventhinkingabout Norah like that has me seeing red. For more than one reason. First, Mac is a dirty bastard who views women as his own personal playthings. If I ever catch him so much as looking at Norah, I’ll likely beat the hell out of him. Just the thought of him putting his hands on her makes me murderous. Second, given her history, I know that when—if—we become intimate, it will be slow going. She’ll have to set the pace.
“Kennedy, get over here!” I hear Coach yell, pulling me from my thoughts.
