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I had used the Irish word for brother—deartháir.
Conor hugged me tight and said, “Love you, Micky.”
He gave me a tight hug and a kiss on top of my head and then opened my car door ending with “Be careful and go straight home it is getting late.” I smiled knowing I was not heading home tonight. After shutting my car door, I reached into my purse for my phone and opened a text to Finn.
Me: Love you, deartháir.
A minute later, Finn responded.
Finn: Love you, Micky.
Driving out of Thirsty’s, I took a left to go to the person I felt the safest with . . . Ryan
17
MACKENNA
Three Months Later . . .
Pulling into a parking spot in the same Toyota I'd driven back into town, my phone dinged with a text. I rummaged through my things, finally grabbing my phone to see the message from Jeff. I'd been home for six months, and nearly three months had passed since Ryan and I admitted our love for each other, all the while keeping our relationship a secret. We both agreed that it wasn't the right time to tell Conor.
Despite our good relationship, I could see that Conor still felt tormented by the abuse I'd suffered. He believed he'd failed me, and no matter how often I reassured him that wasn't the case, I could see in his eyes that he blamed himself.
I was surprised to discover that Finn already knew about Ryan's feelings for me. One night, as we lay in bed talking, the conversation turned to my brothers and how they might react to our relationship. Ryan told me about a night after a fight when he'd had too much to drink celebrating his victory. He had confided in Finn about his feelings for me, expressing that he'd missed me and had felt this way for a very long time.
Finn wasn't surprised to hear that Ryan had feelings for me, mentioning how Ryan would always stare at me or let his hugs linger a bit too long. Finn also warned Ryan that Conor might not take the news well, as he had always been the protective brother and wouldn't want his little sister involved with a fighter. Ryan and I decided it would be best to keep our relationship private for a while as we explored our feelings and determined the future of our relationship.
When I left Thirsty's that night, I drove straight to Ryan's house without a second thought. I knew he was the one I wanted to be with. I arrived wearing the clothes I'd thrown on after our first time together: a ratty old concert t-shirt tied to expose my navel, black yoga pants, sneakers, and my messy, post-coital hair in a bun. I knew I looked like a hot mess, but when Ryan opened the door and eyed me from head to toe, my body tingled.
He took a step toward me, wrapping his muscular, inked arm around my waist, pulling me against him.
"Damn, my girl is hot," he whispered into my ear, pulling me even tighter and lifting me off the step.
With a kick, he shut the door behind us and carried me straight to his bedroom and into his bed. Since then, I've spent most nights in that bed.
Life at this moment was going wonderfully. I spent each day writing music and performing at local spots several nights a week. Ryan was in full training mode for his next fight scheduled in September.
Despite training late into the evenings, he always managed to come to watch me perform. Conor, Finn, Chrissy, and Ryan all showed their support. I could tell that our secret relationship was starting to weigh on Ryan. He had mentioned a few times how much he hated keeping it a secret from his best friend. Moreover, Conor and Finn were Ryan's trainers, so trust was crucial.
I knew Ryan wanted to come clean, but I didn't want Conor to freak out. I thought if we gave it a little more time when we did tell him, he'd see that we were absolutely committed to each other, and there was no risk of me getting hurt or heartbroken.
Now here I was sitting in the parking lot of one of the many hotels located in Orlando. That night, I was performing at the swanky bar off the lobby. I had been told when they booked me for that night to expect a good crowd due to a real estate convention being held there. So I decided to step it up and went with a sexier outfit than my typical laid-back look.
Before heading out, Ryan had stopped by my place, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw me.
“Wow, baby, you looked so fucking good! Turn and show me that pretty ass of yours," he said, grabbing my hand and twirling me around so he could get a full view.
He pushed into my backside, and I could already feel his growing erection against my tight black Capri pants. With some extra height from my cute black ankle boots with a three-inch heel, Ryan's mouth came to my bare shoulder, and he licked all the way up the exposed skin of my neck.
I had worn my hair pulled back over my left shoulder. Before letting go of me, he trailed his fingers over his name on the music note inked between my shoulder blades—he had an unobstructed view of my whole back thanks to the open back halter top I was wearing.
“God, Kenna, you are so beautiful."
My heart melted every time he said how beautiful he thought I looked.
“Hey,” he said. "Is Chrissy going tonight?"
I turned and wrapped my arms around him because, well, let’s face it was impossible to keep my hands off his gorgeous hard body. “Not tonight she is working on some new big marketing campaign for a brewery that’s opening a few towns over. Why?” I asked.
