Love Untouched (Unexpected)

by Anne Leigh

  How did a woman respond to that? Kieran surprised me at every turn. For a guy who told me once that he didn’t know what a ‘relationship’ entailed, he sure made a woman feel lucky to be with him. He was not a flashy guy, but he showered me with gifts that meant more than any material things ever could. He spent whatever limited, precious time he had with me. Aside from training, he had business meetings with start-up companies that he was thinking of working with, using his business degree to leverage how to be a profitable entrepreneur with the resources that he had. Even when he was exhausted, he picked me up from work to make sure I got to my car safely. It was his way of showing that he cared. He even bought me soda and chips in bulk because he said it would save me more money rather than buying them at the vending machine, back when I was getting them for Mr. X—aka Dr. Windmere, who was now back at his house and receiving much-needed psychiatric help and support from his siblings. Yes, Kieran was a surprise. A guy who hid his true self from the world was unpeeling his layers, one by one, for me.

  I was sobbing, my face an ugly, flooded mess of fluids from my eyes, and maybe some from my nose. Hyperventilation included. I had no control over it. He lowered his head, brushed his fingers to gently wipe the tears away, and touched his mouth to my lips. We stayed that way for a long time until sleep claimed us.

  In the morning when I woke up, with the light rays seeping through the tiny spaces in the blinds, I stared at his profile. With his long, dark-blond, almost black lashes resting on his face, his hair the usual messy, in-the-bed look, and his mouth held in a relaxed line, he was a gorgeous man. With a body that only a lucky few could even dream of, but he was so much more than that—much, much more. Every day, I realized that with the more I discovered about him, he already had my heart, and was closer to taking over my soul.

  “I’d like to learn how to surf.”

  ~O.W. age 14, autoimmune disorder

  Shanghai, China: World Aquatics Championships

  1:53:10.

  Great freaking time.

  One of my fastest. Ever. In the 200-fly.

  Gold was mine. The silver I earned two years ago was sweet but this was even sweeter. I would savor this one for a while.

  Japan’s Takushi and Australia’s Dent were congratulating me before I pushed myself up on deck.

  Smith and the rest of my team were jumping and cheering. I pointed a finger at them. This one was for them. All their hard work, working with me, making sure I had the best training equipment, was now bearing gifts, in the form of a gold medal. This was for all the years that they’ve been with me – watching me, helping me, encouraging me, just being there for me. Since we landed here in Shanghai, I felt the energy in me shift. There was greatness to be had and it was up for grabs. I’d be the first one to grab it.

  I looked up at the bleachers. Brynn was smiling. She must have been jumping because her hair was messy but she had never looked more desirable to me.

  Adrenaline combined with exhilaration from the swim pumped throughout my body.

  This was it.

  No going back.

  I couldn’t hide her from the world anymore. My mind refused to do it.

  If someone asked me if I would ever do something like this, especially before going for my cool-down, I would have told them, “No chance.”

  She made me laugh.

  She made me smile.

  She made me feel.

  She just made me... happy.

  Today, she was here, wearing a dark blue t-shirt with red sleeves and a USA Swimming logo on the front. She once told me that she wore only blue during meets to support Milo. But today, she was also wearing red—my color, for me. An interviewer was standing by the side of the bleachers but I ignored her. I quickly dried myself off with a towel and walked up towards where Brynn was. Sports announcers and cameras were probably following me as they always did, after each event. Actually, just about every time I got out of the pool there was a camera following me around.

  I knew what was at stake here, without a doubt. After this, everyone would know. Every person from China to Zimbabwe, anyone in the world who was watching the event, would know. The one person who she was hiding from would know. Undoubtedly. I respected her decision before. Now, it was time for her to respect mine.

  She was in the third row. The crowd around me was cheering, and slowly, they hushed and parted in the middle, as if sensing that I was trying to get to someone. I kept my eyes locked on hers. From a distance of less than a foot, I saw her blue eyes fill with doubt. She looked like she wanted to hightail it from there and run.

  No, Brynn, don’t. I want everyone in this place to know you belong to me.

  I hurried up the steps and stopped right in front of her. An older woman was right next to her, smiling naughtily. I gave her a quick nod, pulled Brynn close to my body, and circled my arms around her waist. Standing at a space on the bleacher below—the lady who was sitting on it made room for me, obviously curious as to what I was about—my eyes were level with her face. Her blue eyes dimmed with uncertainty, and she whispered, “Kieran...”

  I stroked a hand under her chin and replied, “Fastest time tonight, honey. A gold medal. Now give me a kiss.”

  Hoots and hollers surrounded us. I had never been one to exhibit any public displays of affection. I was the person who showed the least amount, if any affection at all. Therefore, I accepted the fact that we would be all over the news tomorrow. Her pink lips met mine and she tugged on my hair. As much as I wanted to continue, I had to stop her because I was very much underdressed and if I didn’t put a halt to this hastily, the evidence in my suit would be standing proud in front of the cameras.

  I ushered her down the bleachers, leading the way. Cecille Santamaria, KVTV’s sports commentator for the World Championships, was following the proceedings with glee. Of all the times she had interviewed me, this was the first where she was genuinely smiling. With the microphone in her left hand, she stopped in front of me and asked, “Is she your girlfriend Kieran?”

  I gave her a grin and nodded.

  She was about to ask more when a deafening yell from the other side of the Aquatic Center drowned out all the cheers. “Stone!”

  Milo.

  It was inevitable for him to confront me about Brynn. It was just not going to be in front of the cameras.

  “Excuse me, Cecille, we’ll talk later. I have to go to cool-down.” It was an excuse, but it was true. Brynn’s hold tightened on my left hand. She heard her brother, too. Milo had to swim in the semi-finals for the 200-m backstroke in two minutes so he would not have time for this, but who knows? Brynn was his world, and if he saw what happened a few minutes ago from inside the locker room, which had a big flat screen TV, I might as well have just pointed a gun and pulled its trigger myself.

  “Kieran.” Brynn’s anxious voice brought me back to our situation. “Milo’s coming towards us. He’s going to be really upset, so please let me deal with him.”

  Upset was something I could deal with. My misgiving was that I didn’t want a showdown in front of any cameras. I looked at the giant clock across the pool. 5:45 PM. Semis were starting in a minute, and unless Milo was forfeiting, he would not have time for a confrontation. I didn’t look back to see if he was on our tail. I just knew that I’d face him after his swim.

  Still not answering Brynn, I kept her hand tangled in mine as I led the way to cool-down. My body needed it. I had to bring my heart rate back down to normal and stretch my body to keep it loose. After an intense race, lactic acid built up in my muscles and cool-down helped in easing out the soreness and sped up recovery. I could not afford to lose my focus. I needed to keep myself as a prime contender for the next day, and the following days.

  Smith was waiting by the pool. I kissed Brynn on her cheek and whispered, “I’ll talk to your brother. There’s no way I’m letting you fight this battle for me. Now, I’ll be cooling down but I’ll cut it short before Milo comes in. We’re going to talk in private. Not her
e.”

  Begrudgingly, she answered, “Ok. I’m just worried. He won’t be taking this lightly. He hates you and now, he’s going to hate me too.”

  Against her blonde tresses, I inhaled her vanilla scent, and replied, “He’ll never hate you.”

  Smith walked up, and instructed, “Get in the water, now.”

  “Yes.” I replied, giving Brynn another quick peck before I jumped into the water. The TV overhead allowed me to time myself so I knew when to get out. Milo’s swim got delayed because of two false starts by two other swimmers. I had exactly ten minutes before he came barreling down on me, only I would not be giving him that opportunity.

  From time to time, I glanced at Brynn. She looked calm but I knew how nervous she was. Her left foot was tapping rapidly and continuously. I started to think my display earlier had been against my better judgment, and I should not have done this to her. However, I had made my decision and there was no going back.

  On TV, I saw that Milo’s time was 1:55.39. The guy could swim. It was guaranteed he would have Lane 5. I wasn’t in that event and that was the least of my worries, anyhow. As soon as he was done with the race, he quickly got out of the pool and almost ran over the sports announcer.

  I swam faster and was out of the pool in record time, grabbed Brynn’s hand and walked her towards the locker room.

  Coach was sputtering, his face was red, and I heard him call out, “Kieran, you’re not done.”

  I answered back, “I’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you in a bit.”

  He must have said something else but I didn’t catch it.

  Brynn and I reached the locker room, which was fortunately empty of other athletes at the moment, and I pinned her gently against the wall. “Whatever happens, it’s all on me. I just don’t want to hide you anymore.”

  Her ocean-colored eyes gazed at me; understanding reflected in them. “I love you, Kieran.”

  Her admission knocked the wind out of me. Before I could form a reply, the door of the locker room banged wildly. “Stone, open the fucking door!”

  I dropped my hands from her face; my legs took the few steps to the door. I unlocked it, and the first thing I saw, actually felt, was a fist to the left side of my face.

  “What the fuck are you doing with my sister?!” His voice roared inside the room.

  The element of surprise and the pack of his punch almost knocked me off balance.

  My left jaw stung. I saw his face, darkened with fury; anger laced his eyes. He swung his right arm and I caught it mid-air.

  “One punch. That’s all I’m going to allow you. Next ones aren’t free,” I warned. “Now, we can talk about this civilly, or we can punch this out of our system.”

  “You motherfucker!” He yelled. His shoulders visibly shook, and his knuckles were strained white, fisted against his suit. He didn’t even go for a cool-down.

  I guess there was no talking civilly.

  His left hand swung, and this time, a feminine hand struggled against it but caught it.

  “Not here, Milo.” Brynn’s small voice pleaded, her hand clamping down on her brother’s arms. “Please, not here.”

  In her eyes, I saw hopelessness and regret. Was she regretting us? Was she resenting me for outing us like this?

  Doubt filled my mind.

  Milo was not stopping, he yelled again, “Get out of my fucking way, Brynn! This motherfucking piece of shit does not deserve you!”

  Brynn intervened. “Milo please, take deep breaths. You need to calm down.”

  Milo threw a disgusted and furious look at me, but I knew he was not going to hurt his sister.

  Brynn instructed him, “One, two, three... breathe...” Milo unwillingly followed her command.

  After reaching ten, she requested, “Now, let’s get out of this room, you guys go meet with your coaches, do your interviews, and we’ll all sit down and talk about this later.” Interviews were mandatory. Since I had not finished my interview, and neither had Milo, we still had responsibilities to fulfill.

  Milo barely acknowledged her. He threw me one last hateful, rage-filled look, his fists wound up so tightly on his sides, before stepping out of the room.

  Brynn held my right hand, and faced me, saying, “Go get ready. I’ll be outside with him. Then, he can come in and get dressed.”

  Under these circumstances, the last thing I wanted was for Brynn to resent me. With a heavy heart, I nodded, grabbed my clothes from my locker, and put them on.

  Milo was mad. Seething. Get-out-of-my-way-or-I-will-kill-you kind of mad.

  And angry.

  Very, very angry.

  I knew this because he was silent. Deadly silent.

  He was sitting on the far end of the couch in my hotel suite. I had texted Kieran while Milo drove us back here. Before we left the Aquatic Center, after finishing one very short interview with the press, Milo only talked to one other person, his coach, Chuck Trevails. They talked for five minutes max, then he turned his eyes on me and with an almost imperceptible nod of his head, I followed.

  Before I left Kieran, who had gone back inside the locker room after his coach and trainers practically dragged him, I kissed him full on his mouth, reassuring him that everything would be okay. Well, as okay as it could be. He searched my face and looked like he wanted to say something else, but changed his mind about it.

  He whispered, “Call me tonight, and I’ll be there.”

  I acknowledged him by planting another kiss on his mouth and hugging him.

  My thoughts of Kieran halted when Milo’s cold, hard-edged voice asked, “How long have you been seeing him?”

  I stared at my brother. He looked formidable and furious, his green eyes fiery. He managed to change into a red shirt and jeans that Leif retrieved from his locker, obviously steering Milo away from Kieran’s vicinity, and vice-versa.

  “Seven months,” I replied, looking straight into his eyes, not wanting to show any signs of weakness. I wanted him to believe that I was standing up for Kieran, whether he liked it or not. Whether he approved of it or not. How ironic. My brother was the one who saw me through the weakest points in my life, and now, I was trying to hide any weakness from him.

  His voice low, enunciating every word, he threw my words back at me. “Seven fucking months.” He fisted his hands which were sitting atop his legs.

  “I love him.” The sounds coming out of my mouth were soft like air but the severity, the weight of what came out, was loud and clear.

  “You love him?” He repeated incredulously, “You fucking love that asshole? Do you even know what he did to me?”

  I shook my head. “Yes, I do.” I paused, catching a lump in my throat. “He slept with Dia.”

  His jaw clenched, his fists tapping uncontrollably on the side of the couch, clearly itching to throw or punch something or someone. He bit out, “And you still went out with him, dated him, and now you’re fucking telling me you love him?” He continued his assault, clearly wanting to inflict the pain that he was feeling inside, onto me. “Where does your loyalty lie, Brynn? Did he promise you forever? Did he tattoo a piece of forever in his skin to show you that?”

  My lips remained shut.

  “All this time... all this fucking time, you knew how much I hated him. You never asked why. I never told you because I didn’t think I’d ever have to.” He shot me a hard, accusing look. “Ask me why, Brynn.”

  “No.” This was not going anywhere. “I don’t need to know why, what, or how, Milo. I’m with him, and he’s with me. End of story. Now you can either accept that or...” I stopped and looked away. What was I saying? He was still my brother, no matter what.

  “Or what Brynn?” He looked murderous, eyes glaring, nose puffing out. “You’re going to disown me from being your brother? For a fucking asswipe?”

  “He’s a good person, Milo,” I justified. Kieran slept with Dia. Once. I wanted to scream, “Get over it Milo. She was a bitch to you anyways.” But, my brother’s extremely short fuse of a
temper would not be amenable to that idea.

  “Oh yeah?” He sneered loudly, “A good person? Tell me, Brynn. Does a good person run around and flaunt the girl he slept with to her boyfriend? Does a good person forget to say, ‘Hey dude, sorry I didn’t get the memo she’s your girlfriend, and I slept with her’? Does a good person not congratulate you when you win, or have the decency to at least exchange a fucking spit in the air when you lose?”

  “He’s not like that. He didn’t know you were with Dia, Milo. If he did, he wouldn’t have slept with her.” I could not guarantee that but over the past months, I had come to know Kieran had a solid moral compass; he would not intentionally sleep with another guy’s girlfriend.

  “It doesn’t fucking matter, Brynn.” His voice ratcheted by ten decibels. “He never once looked at me and apologized. When I confronted him about sleeping with Dia, he just shrugged it off like it was nothing. I wanted to beat the crap out of him. Dia, just nothing? She was fucking mine, Brynn. Mine! She told me he seduced her.” His voice now extremely loud inside the room. He belted out, “She was mine. He had to have known. She was there during the meets, hugging me, standing in the bleachers. How could he not have known?!”

  “Because he didn’t know, Milo,” I asserted. “He didn’t know. He’s just to himself. He doesn’t really spend time minding other people’s business. He doesn’t even look up at the stands unless he knows his family’s there.”

  His eyes were lethal, as he spoke cynically, “You just fucking believe everything he says, don’t you? If he told you that he slipped on a fucking girl and landed on her pussy, would you just believe him Brynn? Just how stupid has he turned you? Just how unfeeling has he turned you—to turn your back on me and not care about how I would fucking feel?” I cringed at his crude remarks. He stood up, paced in front of the TV, and then dragged his feet to the door.