The Claddagh Trilogy: Irish Affair - Irish Love - Irish Heart

by Amanda Heartley

  We get out to the car and I breathe out, my heart racing. That was torture. Conor looks over at me and chuckles. I glare at him, but he’s not too concerned.

  “You were really worried about that, weren’t you?” he asks.

  I shrug and narrow my eyes at him. “I was worried they might embarrass me, but it seems it was you I needed to worry about.”

  “Oh, come on. Where’s your sense of fun?” he teases. “Your mum got me too. Can’t believe she brought that up in front of your sister.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Let’s rewind, shall we? Maybe I left it back there when you told my mum I mistook you for a stripper,” I fire back, but I can’t stay mad at him for long, and we smile and give each other a peck on the lips. Next thing I know, I see my little sister out of the corner of my eye, watching us from the open front door. She waves at us and shouts back down the hallway, “Mum! Conor kissed Kayla!”

  “Oh, shite! Get in the car and drive,” I scream at Conor, and he laughs. “Or we’ll never get out of here. Mum’s probably planning the wedding already,” I add, scrabbling at the door handle and trying not to break a nail in my haste.

  * * *

  We arrive at the barbecue. It’s already in full swing and there are people everywhere. I don’t really know anyone, other than Siobhan and Rory, but I’m soon relaxing, chatting with new people, and having fun. Something I haven’t done, especially in a crowd, for a long time.

  While I’m dancing with Conor, I notice I’m getting some unwanted attention from a group of guys over the other side of the pool area. I frown at them, wondering why they’re looking and pointing at me. My anxiety kicks up a notch. It would be one hell of a coincidence if the problems I had in L.A. were what they were whispering and giggling about. That little voice in my head has me wondering.

  I take a deep breath to try and calm myself down. I hate being so paranoid, but that comes from when everyone stops talking every time you enter a room. That’s what the last few weeks have been like for me before I came back to Ireland. I can’t deny it’s really gotten to me. It slowly ate away at my self-esteem. Socializing wasn’t enjoyable anymore and I began hiding myself away in my room. To top it all off, when I got home from class one day, there was awful personal, and crude messages scrawled across my dorm room door. That made me feel a thousand times worse.

  Stop being ridiculous, Kayla. Just ignore them.

  “Are you okay, there?” Conor gazes down at me, his expression tender. “You’re always going off into your own thoughts,” he adds softly.

  I smile and nod. “Sorry, I’m fine. I was just thinking about something.” He leaves it at that, but I can tell I haven’t diffused his concern.

  The night wears on and I’ve all but forgotten about the group of guys, until one of them calls out to me. I stiffen, and try to ignore him, but he persists.

  “Hey. Blondie in the red dress. Hello?” he calls out while his friends laugh and cheer him on. When Conor hears him, he frowns, turns around and glares at them. I stiffen, fearing his involvement is only going to make things worse.

  “Ease up, boys. Go annoy someone else, okay?” he says.

  “Sure, but first I have a question for your girlfriend. Just wondering if she’ll put on the same show for us that she puts on for everyone else?” the ring leader says. “She’s quite the slut when she wants to be,” he adds, smiling.

  Conor whips around and glares at them menacingly.

  “What the hell did you just say?” he barks.

  “You heard me,” he taunts, looking smugly around at his friends. “Didn’t you know your girlfriend is quite a…um…celebrity?” he jeers, holding up his phone. I squeeze my eyes closed, my heart sinking.

  Please, no. This cannot be happening.

  “Before you, uh…tap that, check out co-ed dot com,” he says. “You’ll see what I mean,” then he walks off, laughing with his friends, and leaving a confused Conor frowning after them.

  “I’m sorry about those eejits,” Conor says, softly. “Guys can be such arses when they’ve had a drink or two.”

  I’m waiting nervously for him to ask me about what the lad said, but he doesn’t. He turns back to me and shakes his head, a troubled look in his eyes. I look away, not wanting to meet his gaze. I’m so ashamed, I can’t bear to look at him right now, and every time he opens his mouth, I’m convinced this will be it for us.

  He’s definitely not going to want to have anything to do with me now.

  “Do you mind if we go?” I ask, meekly. “I’m not feeling too good,” I mumble.

  “Sure,” he says.

  I grab my bag on the way out and let Siobhan know we’re leaving. She didn’t hear the conversation at the pool—and thank God, no one else did, either—so she has no idea what’s going on.

  I don’t say much the whole way home, and when he pulls into the driveway, I open the door to get out when he puts his hand on my leg. I shiver, unable to meet his eyes, and try to pull gently away from him.

  “Wait a second. Will you talk to me?” he asks, sounding hurt.

  I shake my head, tears welling in my eyes.

  “I can’t,” I whisper. “If I start talking, then I’m going to be a blubbering mess. I can’t walk in there looking like that, or they’ll all want to know what’s wrong with me, and I can’t face all the drama, right now,” I say.

  Conor nods, then says, “Close the door, Kayla.” I turn to him, wondering what he’s going to do.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, alarmed. He glances at me with a soft smile on his lips.

  “Back to my place,” he replies with a small smile, and my mind races as I think about what I should do. I either stay in the car and go with him or step out and have to deal with questions from my mum as to why I’m upset. Of the two options, there’s no contest and I buckle my seatbelt again.

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  He has no idea of the kind of girl I am. He probably thinks those guys were just being annoying, but I know the truth. I’m a fool, is what I am. Maybe that’s all I’ll ever be. He’s going to hate me when he realizes everything they said was true.

  * * *

  I wipe away the tears and swallow the lump in my throat as Conor pulls up outside his house. He unfastens his seatbelt and I feel his gaze burning into me, but I don’t move. I can’t move. I tense as he gets out and walks around to my side of the car.

  He opens the door and puts out his hand for me. I summon every bit of courage I have left in me to take it, but the moment I do, I suddenly realize that this might be the last time our hands ever touch. He gently leads me inside and sits me down on the couch, then goes into the kitchen to make us a cup of tea. He’s being so gentle, and so nice to me, and I hate it because of the guilt I’m carrying. He places the cups of steaming tea on the table and sits next to me, pulling me into his arms and kissing my head.

  “You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to,” he murmurs. I shake my head, unable to hold back my emotions any longer, and tears roll down my cheeks.

  “I just don’t know what to say to you,” I blubber.

  “Then, just be honest. That’s all I want,” he says. “I won’t judge you. We can work this out, right?”

  “If I do that, I’m scared you’ll want nothing more to do with me,” I say, sobbing at the thought. He says nothing for a moment, then he tilts my face up to his and looks at me.

  “Is this about what those little shites said to you at the party?” he asks. “They behaved like giggly little schoolgirls. It was embarrassing to watch, and I haven’t a clue what they were talking about, anyway. Whether it’s true or not, however bad you think it is, I don’t give a flying fuck about them. I’m proud to be your boyfriend, no matter what.”

  “It’s all true,” I say, fighting back tears. “I wish more than anything that it wasn’t. I wish I could take back that night, but I can’t,” I say with a deep sigh.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks, frowning at m
e.

  I look down at my hand in his, relieved that his hold on me hasn’t weakened. He kisses my forehead again to reassure me everything’s okay between us, but how can it be? How can anything be okay ever again?

  “I promise you can talk to me, Kayla, and I won’t get upset. Tell me what happened,” he urges me, and I take a deep breath to try and compose myself.

  “It was one night, just before the end of last semester,” I say. “This guy named James asked me out. I had a few too many to drink and I had sex with him. It’s not like he got me drunk or anything. I knew what I was doing.” I shake my head at how stupid I’d been. He so doesn’t need to hear this. “Anyway, I didn’t think much of it until the next morning, when it turned out there were photos of me all over campus. That scumbag had a hidden camera somewhere in his room. Everyone laughed at me everywhere I went. Then later, someone else must have uploaded them onto this site where guys rate naked college girls....” I stop as I relive the whole nightmare in my mind. I can’t say anymore.

  “The website that dickhead was talking about?” Conor asks, frowning at me.

  I look down, nodding as I wipe away my tears. “I never even knew about that until I was asked out by another guy. He seemed genuine, and I thought nothing of it at the time, but I caught him slipping something into my drink, and when I confronted him, he admitted he’d heard about me, and wanted to take photos of me in the nude. I was so mad, I threw the drink in his face and stormed out. Looking back, I was lucky to get out of that unscathed. If he’d drugged me, I hate to think what might have happened. I never went out with anyone after that.”

  I let out a nervous laugh and shake my head, angry at myself for being so naïve. “I feel so stupid, looking back. I can’t believe I thought James actually liked me. Anyway, after that, I couldn’t walk into a room without people calling me nasty names. Guys I’d never even met before were claiming I’d done things with them that I’d never, ever do. It just became too much. That’s the main reason why I returned to Ireland. The wedding was a great excuse to get away without having to tell everyone why I was leaving L.A.” I pause, my heart thumping in my chest. “This whole mess is why I’m thinking about not going back.”

  “So, um…would you mind if I look at the site you’re talking about?” he asks. I frown, not sure what to make of that. “It’s not that I want to look at the pictures, or anything. I didn’t want to say why because I didn’t want to get your hopes up, but I know someone who might be able to help.”

  I nod, and after putting in the website address, I nervously hand him my phone. He frowns, shaking his head as he flicks through the pages. It’s not like it’s just me on there. There are lots of girls, who I’m pretty sure, had no idea they were being lured into a sick trap.

  “Okay, let me see what I can do,” he says, putting the phone down. “I have friends, but for now, just forget about it. Put it out of your mind.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?” I ask.

  He looks into my eyes and takes both my hands softly into his. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that. It must have been awful, but none of it was your fault. You know that, right?”

  “Isn’t it?” I ask, laughing like a maniac. “I do this kind of shite all the time. If you knew me, you’d know that. I get myself into situations and, up until this, I’ve been lucky to get out of them unscathed. I guess this is a big wake up call. It’s what I deserve—”

  “No, it’s not what you deserve,” he retorts, cutting me off, and I glare at him. Why is he so angry? His expression softens. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound annoyed. It’s just that I care about you and I hate hearing you put yourself down. You deserve so much better than this.”

  “Do I?” I ask, not believing him. “I used to think so, but now I’m not so sure.”

  He leans over and presses his lips against mine, tightly wrapping his arms around me. As he continues kissing me, he loosens his hold and rubs my back, taking my breath away. I pull back and stare at him, my eyes wide. I have no idea where that intensity came from, but it was more than welcome.

  “I hate that someone made you feel so bad,” he whispers.

  “Yeah, well, it’s my own fault. And I completely understand if you don’t want to see me again. I just wanted you to know everything. I never want to lie to you. I’ll be okay. I always am,” I say with a heavy heart.

  “What?” he says, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Look, thanks for being honest, and I’m honored to be trusted enough for you to tell me, but of course, I want to see you again. Why would you think any different? We’ve been grand together since you walked back into my life. Haven’t we?”

  “Um, yeah, I just thought—”

  “Listen,” he interrupts, “We are not breaking up, Kayla. No way, lass. Unless you want to, of course, but I hope you don’t. I’ve only just found you again and I’m not letting you slip through my fingers this time,” he says, emphatically.

  My eyes widen, and my mouth drops open involuntarily. I can’t believe his reaction. I felt sure he’d drop me like a hot potato after I told him what I’d done back in L.A. I’m having trouble taking it all in. Not just the fact that he made it perfectly clear he wants us to stay together, no matter what, but I’m also dumbstruck over that last part. What does he mean, ‘this time’? There was never a ‘last time’ to look back on. I’m speechless, overwhelmed, and I burst into tears once more. Only, this time, they’re tears of relief and sheer joy that he doesn’t give a fuck about my sordid past, and thinks so much of me, despite it all.

  He puts a comforting arm around my shoulder, pulling me to him, and I take my hands away from my face and gaze up into his. He looks away, a little sheepish, like he’s suddenly realized what he just blurted out. Did he really mean it? My inner nagging doubts surface again, but I smile when I see him looking furtively around the room, running one hand through his hair and nervously scratching his head.

  We haven’t been together long but, already, I can read him like a book. We’re childhood friends who lost touch over the years, but the way we’ve been with each other these last few days, it feels like we’ve never been apart. I love that feeling and kick the nagging doubts out of my mind.

  Maybe there is a chance for me to find acceptance for who I am, and the happiness I desperately crave with a strong, kind man like him?

  He catches me studying him intently and tries to deflect his obvious embarrassment by changing the subject, but I can’t let this go without saying something, for my own peace of mind, at least. I’ve made some pretty big mistakes already, but if I do, this could be the biggest one of my life.

  “Uh…um…don’t let your tea go cold,” he says, reaching out to pass the cup to me, but I stop him dead in his tracks.

  “Fuck the tea,” I say in a low voice, pushing his hand away from the cup. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, like I never want to let him go. He responds, kissing me back, stroking my face and hair, and it makes me even more sure he meant what he said. When we eventually break the kiss, the question I have burning in my head is still there. “What do you mean, you’re not letting me go this time? We were never an item before I left Dublin,” I whisper, holding his face in my hands.

  “Uh, um, that?” he stammers out, trying to look away. “Just a slip of the tongue—”

  “Bullshit, Conor Murphy,” I cut him off, looking intently into his eyes. “Tell me what you meant. I’ve just poured my heart out to you, now it’s your turn to be honest with me.”

  “Right.” He pauses for a moment, then looks into my eyes and says, “Well, I’ve had a crush on you since…oh, I don’t know, forever? And although I’ve tried, it just won’t go away.”

  “You’ve had a crush on me?” I repeat, hardly believing my ears. “Since when, exactly?”

  “Probably even before I’d heard the word or knew what it meant,” he replies.

  “What? Why didn’t you say something? You never even once asked me to dan
ce at the youth club disco,” I say. “Secretly, I hoped you would, but I never knew you felt that way about me. I thought we were just friends.”

  “To be honest, my parents’ divorce really screwed me up,” he admits. “I never saw that coming and I went into my shell. I remember feeling so unhappy and insecure at the time. You had so many friends, and you danced with other boys who hung around at the youth club, so I assumed you weren’t interested in me in that way. I didn’t want to risk getting knocked back, or worse, ruining our friendship, so I kept my feelings for you to myself.”

  “You had feelings for me?” I ask, shocked at this revelation. He kisses me on the lips, then strokes my face and smiles.

  “I put it down to just being sweet on you, but inside it felt like I loved you. And after spending time with you again since you’ve been back to Dublin, I realize I still do. It’s always been you, Kayla.”

  My head is swimming with so many thoughts, and tingles rush through my body as his words sink into my brain. He loves me? He fucking loves me? For the first time in my life, someone wants me for who I am. It’s an incredible feeling. I’m overwhelmed with emotion.

  “I’m sorry to put this on you. It’s too much, too soon isn’t it?” he says after a few moments of me just staring at him with my mouth open. I close it and shake my head.

  “N—No. not at all,” I say, planting a kiss on his lips. “I’m just…just so surprised by it all. But, I’m glad you told me, because I had a thing about you too. I had the exact same thoughts as you did about ruining us as friends if we split up.”

  “You’re just saying that. You didn’t…did you?” he says, his eyes fixed on mine. I nod, because it’s true. “Holy shite, Kayla. Now, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. All that time we’ve wasted when we could have been together,” he adds, shaking his head.

  I put my finger to his lips. “Shh. We didn’t waste time,” I whisper. “We were just horny teenagers. Neither of us were ready to get into a serious relationship back then. We’d probably have ended up hating each other. How sad would that have been, huh?”