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 even thinking about 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.

Breaking into a jog across the field, I can see the scowl forming on Coach's face. Great. I stop a couple of feet away, nodding to a few of my teammates.

"Coach," I say in greeting.

"What's this I hear about you going out drinking last night?" the older man says sternly, folding his arms across his chest.

"Aye, I went to Paddy's last night. Had a couple of drinks with my girl, then walked her home." I hold my head up proudly. No, I don't usually drink before a match, but I don't regret any part of last night.

Coach lifts an eyebrow and shoves his hands in his pockets. "You weren't partying with Mac and the other idiots?"

"No, sir. I was there at the same time as them, even spoke with them, but I wasn't with them."

"Good," Coach nods. "If we weren't playing Duke today, I'd bench all of their sorry asses. Be prepared for extra laps if we don't pull a win."

I respect Coach's methods of discipline. It sucks, but if a couple of guys do something stupid to blow the game, he makes the whole team run extra laps so that the offending parties will feel the team's wrath as well as Coach's.

"Aye," I nod, stretching an arm across my chest .

"So who's the girl? I wasn't aware you were seeing someone," Coach says casually.

A grin spreads across my face. "It's a recent development, but one I'm hoping lasts. Her name is Norah. She'll be here later."

"As long as she's not a distraction, Kennedy…" Coach cautions.

"No, sir. If anything, I think she'll be a motivator." I grin again.

"Alright, back to your warm-ups. I want you hustling out there today."

Half an hour before game time, the team is in the locker room getting ready for Coach's pep talk. I hear my phone ding from my locker and open the door to turn it off, but I see a text from Norah. Opening it eagerly, my breath catches at the selfie she sent of her in the stands, wearing a Seahawks jersey with my number on it. As proud as that makes me, I can't take my eyes off of her face and those wide, blue eyes. She's so stunningly beautiful. The sun gilds her hair, transforming it into a halo of fire and her smile is shy. It has me wanting to be right there kissing the life out of her. Below the picture, she's sent a message.

Norah: I'd say ‘break a leg,' but I'm not sure if theater well wishes are the same for soccer. Either way, I'm cheering for you! xoxo

I chuckle quietly as I quickly text her back.

Eamon: How could I not play well when the most beautiful lass here is cheering for me?

Powering off my phone, I turn back to the team to see Ro staring at me questioningly.

"You ready, mate?"

I clap a hand on his shoulder, feeling on top of the world. "Oh yeah. Let's do this."

Norah

My heart flips as I read the text Eamon sent back. I was nervous about sending a selfie, but Layla encouraged me. Out of all of my friends, Layla enjoys soccer the most, so it made sense to bring her. Her brothers are both soccer players in Texas. Thankfully, she has the day off.

"What did he say?" Layla asks, peeking over my shoulder.

I angle my phone towards her and giggle, feeling my cheeks turn pink.

"Oh, girl, you've got it bad!" She laughs, bumping my arm with hers. "He's good with his words. Makes you wonder what else he's good with, doesn't it?"

I blush even more and turn my head away from her pointedly.

" Norah Grady !" Layla shrieks. "You better spill, and I mean right now !"

Covering my face with my hands and still giggling like a schoolgirl, I peek through my fingers. "Shh! I'd rather not tell the whole world, thank you very much. But if you must know…he kissed me last night."

I try to control the grin on my face, but it's futile. Eamon makes me happy, and it's really, really nice to feel happiness instead of anxiety.

Layla's eyes bug out of her head, and she grabs me by the shoulders. "Oh my god! Norah, that's amazing! I'm guessing by the big grin on your face that you not only consented but enjoyed it?"

Squealing a little, I nod. "Layla, it was earth-shattering. I know that sounds cheesy, and I don't have much to compare it with, but I didn't have an ounce of fear. He asked, actually asked , if he could kiss me, and I didn't want it to end."

"So where did it end?" Layla wags her eyebrows.

"Stop it! He was a perfect gentleman. He was the one to end it, actually." I blush again, remembering my response to his kiss.

Layla gasps. "Norah! You were going to…"

"No!" I squeak. "I mean, I don't think so anyway. It was a pretty heated moment, but he said he didn't want to rush anything with me, so we said goodnight."

I can tell that Layla is about to bombard me with more questions, but thankfully, the announcer chooses that moment to bellow through the loudspeaker announcing the teams. Since it's a home game, the Seahawks will be announced last. I know that Eamon is a forward, but other than that, my knowledge of soccer is seriously lacking. If I'm going to be coming to more games, I better start doing my research .

"Introducing the UNCW Seahawks!" the announcer roars over the speakers, bringing my focus to the tunnel where the team will exit.

The crowd goes absolutely wild. Everyone is on their feet, screaming and swinging teal shirts and banners above their heads. As the announcer lists the numbers, positions, and names of the players, I recognize a few of them. Teagan is announced as the goalie, followed by Mac as one of the defenders. Eventually, he announces Rowan Gallagher, and I finally hear the name I've been waiting for. I surprise not only Layla but myself as a loud cheer erupts from my lungs. Eamon runs onto the field, and the butterflies come alive in my stomach. Seeing him in street clothes is one thing, but watching him run out onto the pitch in his uniform is downright sexual. He stops by Ro, his eyes roaming the crowd until he finds me. As soon as he sees me, he grins widely and winks. On a whim, I blow him a kiss.

The game is intense. The Seahawks are playing their rivals from Duke University, and the fans don't hold back on their chants and cheers, sweeping Layla and me into the fray. It's impossible to take my eyes off of Eamon as he moves around the field, completely focused on the task at hand and moving in perfect harmony with Ro—like they're of one mind. When a Duke player fouls Eamon with an elbow to the ribs, hitting him hard enough to send him to his knees, I gasp and grab Layla's arm. It takes him a minute to catch his breath, but he's soon back on his feet. The offending player receives a yellow card, awarding Eamon a penalty shot. He places the ball in position and lines up his shot, pausing to stare down the goalie before he runs forward and kicks the ball. It flies right into the upper left corner of the goal, and I explode out of my seat, arms in the air, screaming along with the rest of the fans. Layla is laughing at me, but I don't care. I haven't had this much fun in ages. Ro charges Eamon and picks him up off the ground, making me laugh. The rest of the team closes in and wraps their arms around him or slaps his butt for a job well done.

There's a renewed energy in the team, and Duke doesn't stand a chance. Not five minutes later, the Seahawks score another goal, sending the crowd into a frenzy, and by the end of the game, the Seahawks are up five to one—with three goals from Eamon. The announcer comes over the speakers to inform the fans that this is Eamon's second career hat trick. I have no idea what that means, but it seems like a good thing, judging by the cheers in the stadium.

"Holy shit, Norah! That game was insane! I'm so glad you invited me." Layla says as we gather our belongings.

"Oh my god, I know!" I agree. "I've never really been into sports, but this was so much fun! We should make this a regular thing!"

"Deal! And, don't hit me, but damn ! Eamon is on fire! I get why you can't take your eyes off that man," Layla says playfully.

I chuckle. "I won't hit you. Just keep your hands to yourself, and we won't have a problem. You'd have to be blind not to appreciate God's handiwork."

"Speaking of, God's handiwork is headed this way…"

I turn in time to see Eamon jogging in my direction. He jumps over the barrier and the row of seats in front of me, making me grin stupidly. Especially when he cups my cheeks with his hands and kisses me passionately. I stand there shocked for half a second before sliding my hands up his chest and tangling my fingers into his sweaty hair. He trails a hand from my face down to my waist and crushes me to him. I'm completely lost in the moment, vaguely aware of the people around us catcalling and whistling. Much to my dismay, he eventually pulls away and brushes a thumb across my cheek.

"Hi," I pant.

"Hi, love," he chuckles. "I'd apologize for that, but it would be a lie."

"I wouldn't accept your apology anyway. Good game, Kennedy." I beam at him.

"Ahem." Layla clears her throat.

We slowly come back to earth and look over at the voyeurs watching us.

"I didn't think they were going to come up for air, did you, lass?" Teagan asks, peering up at Layla from the sideline. She giggles and shakes her head, her cheeks coloring slightly. I file this away for a later conversation.

Eamon's hand squeezes my hip to get my attention. "I'm not quite through here yet, but I'd like to see you later. Do you have plans?"

"I have some history homework to catch up on, but I'm probably going to need to call a tutor. Know of anyone?" I tease.

He buries his face in my neck and whispers, "I know someone who gives private lessons. He could probably be there in a couple of hours."

I shiver in response and nod.

"Oi! Kennedy! You can snog your girl later! Coach wants us in the locker room like five minutes ago!"

Eamon sighs and I catch a flash of red hair running off the field. Ro. Of course. He pulls me to him again and kisses the top of my head. "See you soon?"

"See you soon," I agree. "I'm sure you're hungry. Want me to make dinner?"

His eyes widen in surprise, lips curving up on one side. "You want to cook for me?"

"I probably can't make an Irish stew like you can, but I'm actually pretty decent in the kitchen. I do more than just sew."

"It's true," Layla chimes in. "She's an amazing baker too! I can blame every single one of these curves on her!"

"You say that like it's a problem," Teagan says, climbing over the barrier to stand by Eamon. He eyes Layla appreciatively, making her blush and look down at her feet. Sticking a hand in her direction, he drawls, "Name's Teagan O'Brien. You are?"

"Uh…um. Layla. Layla Diaz," she answers nervously, placing her hand in his.

"Pleasure, love. Now, excuse me while I take Romeo here before Coach blows a gasket. See you around, Layla." He winks at her before turning back to the field.

Eamon chuckles and kisses my cheek before walking away with Teagan. I watch as he walks away, because who wouldn't want to watch that? Sighing, I turn to Layla to see that she's also watching the guys walk away.

"Earth to Layla! You're drooling."

Layla's dark eyes snap to mine, wide as saucers. "He was… Did he just… I didn't imagine that, did I?"

"No, you definitely did not," I tell her. "If I've learned anything over the last week, these Irishmen don't have a problem expressing themselves."