Fck of the Irish(13)

CHAPTER SEVEN



Eamon





“Pull yourself together, mate.” Noel opened the blinds in our dorm room and I blinked against the sun’s harsh glare.

It was Wednesday. I’d skipped class, just like I’d done the two days before.

“Coach is going to ream your ass at practice.” Noel’s scolding had grown in intensity every day.

“I’m not going to practice.” I drew my blanket over my head.

He ripped it off and tossed it across the room. “Get up. Rise and shine. You need a goddamn shower and a shave. Shake it off. She’ll come back. And if she doesn’t, her loss… Though, that’s not true. I got a pretty good look at her that morning and damn. I would definitely do some filthy things to her sweet snatch.” He whistled.

I was out of bed in a second, my hand wrapped around his throat. “Don’t you fucking talk about her like that!”

“Better,” he choked out.

I loosened my grip. What was I doing? Noel was my friend.

He grinned; his plan of taking the piss to get me moving clearly working.

“You’re halfway to the shower. Keep on going.” He made a show of pinching his nose.

“I don’t stink.”

“Sure. Sure. Tell it to the soap bar.” He waved me into the bathroom. I dug my phone out of my shorts pocket. No messages, despite the fact I’d sent her countless texts and voicemails. The only thing that kept me from going to her dorm was Claudia. I didn’t want to ruin her relationship with Laurel any more than I already had.

“Brush it off, mate. You can’t just shut down because she’s gone.”

I slammed the bathroom door, closing off Noel’s “voice of reason” routine.

I swiped across my phone. One more message. One more time.

Every morning when I wake up and realize you don’t want me, my heart breaks all over again. ~E

I tossed my phone onto the counter and stepped into the shower.





CHAPTER EIGHT



Laurel





That text. I was sitting in my Wednesday morning Greek class, and I snuck a look at my phone. I couldn’t take it any more. I’d stayed away from him for Claudia’s sake. But now that she was already semi-serious with the Scot she’d picked up a few nights before, I refused to assuage her hurt feelings. Not after that text.

I closed my laptop and packed my backpack. The professor continued her lecture, though she raised an eyebrow at me. I never missed class. I shook my head, trying to assure her it wasn’t an emergency. But it was.

I had to get to him. I hadn’t slept well in days. I barely ate. He took up all my mental space, but I tried to stay strong for Claudia. Now, I didn’t care if she never spoke to me again. I had to be with Eamon. I’d been a fool for waiting as long as I had.

I darted out of the room and down to my car. Traffic was light because it was in the middle of a session, so I made good time to his dorm. His car wasn’t out front. Shit.

I sat for a moment in the parking lot and thought. I knew his schedule, for the most part, thanks to my and Claudia’s stalkerish ways. Wednesday was a practice day. I pulled out and drove the short distance to the soccer fields. I picked him out immediately, his tall, wide frame overpowering his teammates.

I parked and walked to the stands, choosing a seat along the bottom row. He wasn’t looking in my direction. Instead, he was laser-focused on the ball, cutting in front of defenders, knocking two down, and pounding to the goal. At the last minute, he passed to Noel, who scored a goal.

The coach got in Eamon’s face. He was yelling loud enough for the words to make it to my ears. “Do what we practiced. Respect the process. Cool your jets on the bench until you get your goddamn head in the game!”

Eamon trudged past the coach and was about to sit down on the bench when he spotted me, about twenty-five yards away. The second he saw me, it was as if a jolt electricity snaked between us, enough to tingle but not enough to sting. He didn’t sit. Instead, he jumped the bench and charged toward me.

I stood and my heart warmed, and I couldn’t believe I’d stayed away from him this long. He barreled over the running track and stopped just short of me.

“Eamon—”

“Shut up.” He gripped my cheeks and kissed me, wrapping his arms around me and crushing me to his chest.

I slung my arms around his neck as he bent me back, taking my mouth and plundering it with his wicked tongue. I couldn’t breathe, a haze of lust clouding what thoughts I had. I just wanted him. His scent enveloped me, sweat and his aftershave. My pussy grew wetter the more he expertly swirled his tongue around mine. He gripped my ass and pulled me to him, melding my body to his.