Page 228 of Redeeming 6

Just thinking about it caused my heart to catapult around in my chest.

The fuck was I going to do?

I had a girl and a baby to look after.

But I still had Shannon and the boys.

And Mam.

Jesus Christ.

“What do you mean, give you a song?” I asked, slotting another pillow behind me to take the pressure off my back and ease the pain coursing through my flesh. “I don’t sing, baby.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” she replied, nestling between my legs with her back to my chest. “Give me a song for us.”

“For us,” I repeated, mulling it over as I hooked an arm around her middle and drew her body closer to mine.

“Yeah, for us.”

“I don’t have a song.”

“Well, find one because I need a song.”

“Fine.” Dropping my hand to rest on her stomach, I said, “Madonna.”

“‘Like a Virgin’?”

“‘Papa Don’t Preach.’”

She snorted. “Nice.”

I smirked. “Thanks.”

“For real, though.” Breaking free from my hold, she twisted around until she was straddling my lap. “Give me something real.”

“You’re putting me on the spot here.”

“So?” Leaning in close, she nuzzled my nose with hers. “You’re excellent under pressure.”

Sighing heavily, I loosely clasped her waist. “Molloy.”

“Please…”

“Fine.” Shaking my head, I racked my brain for something—anything—to appease the girl, before finally coming up with: “Divine Inspiration’s ‘The Way.’”

“From the rave in Kerry?” Recognition flashed in her green eyes, and she beamed at me. “You remember that?”

“That surprises you?”

“No, I just…” Shaking her head, she scrunched her nose up before admitting, “It’s just that you were pretty buzzed that night.”

I was worse than buzzed that night.

I was out of my fucking mind.

“I can still remember the way you looked when you were dancing in that field, with your yellow wellies and tiny denim shorts,” I heard myself say, remembering the moment clearly. The clearest of my memories involved nights with her. The only nights I ever wanted to remember were the ones I spent with her. “You had that little bra top thingy on, your tits were spilling out,” I continued to tell her, needing her to know that she was forever on my mind. “The cheeks of your ass were on full display, and I swear to Christ, I was driven half-mental from watching you.”

“Really?”

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