Page 22 of Stronger Than Love

“Liam…” Oonagh appeared beside me, the tips of her fingers touching my wrist.

“Don’t,” I bit out. “I can pretend we’re the people we were before that last summer. Put a smile on my face for the world until this is over. Just don’t ask me to talk about it or listen to an apology that doesn’t mean anything ten years later.”

“I didn’t know.”

My furious gaze met her wide eyes. “You were the one person in this world who should have known I would never do what you accused me of. Our first test of trust and you walked away from me.”

Her mouth fell open as she took a step back like I’d slapped her.

“Just leave it, Oonagh. I’ve spent too long believing in something that was never real. Let’s just finally draw a line under us and move on.” I stepped away, even though my body begged me to stay beside her, to tell her everything would be okay. That was the problem—unless she could turn back time, it never would be. The boy who loved her turned into a man who loved the memory of her. The truth blew those memories apart.

There had been women who begged me to take a chance on them and I never did. I could be married with a family of my own instead of fantasising about a memory. The revelations came to me when painting this morning. I’d loved who I thought Oonagh was, not the person she proved herself to be in the end. The afternoon passed with Callum, Niall, and me laughing and joking as we began the transformation of the garden into something that would look like the birthday faery had vomited cheesy sentiments and flags everywhere.

“Thank fuck we don’t do this shit,” I muttered to Callum.

His grin transformed his face from the sombre big brother to the man who had always loved to play practical jokes. “Yeah, you’d be a real grumpy git.” He stared at me for several seconds. “That was harsh earlier. I never heard you talk to Oonagh like that before.”

“Declan was right all those years. I wrote to her every single day for over a month and received no reply. I’ve blamed myself, never once realising that Oonagh walked away because she believed those bitches who lived next door. I spent most of my teenage years turning the bitches down because I was obsessed with Oonagh.”

Callum’s hand landed on my shoulder. “Don’t be too hasty. Fuck, every year you spent ages picking out all the sweets Oonagh loved as a child to send to her for her birthday. Feelings like that don’t evaporate just because you discovered one sinful secret from long ago. You were both vulnerable kids.”

I stared at the old oak tree that still housed the treehouse from so long ago. We used to race across the lawn and climb the tree as fast as we could to get the back corner where your legs didn’t dangle out. In a treehouse, position was everything because the person at the door had to go to the kitchen for snacks.

“We were kids, but we knew how we felt about each other.” I paused for a moment. “At least, I thought we did.”

I reverted into the persona that I hid behind when out with colleagues—the fun guy who joked and laughed but was emotionally dead inside. Only this time I wasn’t dead because I was aware of Oonagh’s presence, felt her as an extension of me wherever she went.

The kitchen was the central part of this house, the heart that made it a home. The places were set at the table for dinner and Niall was in charge of the barbeque. To make myself useful, I was wandering in and out to carry stuff to the table outside. Callum stood chatting to Niall with a bottle of beer in his hand and a smile on his face.

My fingers gripped the countertop as I struggled to contain the avalanche of suppressed emotions that was bubbling inside me.

“Liam?” Oonagh stood watching me, her face paler than usual, making her freckles more pronounced.

I slowly turned to face her because there was nowhere to hide and no one to pretend to talk to.

“I know you’re upset with me, but we all have hidden wounds from that time that we carry with us. We need to talk about what happened, somewhere private.”

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and prayed for divine intervention. “What is there to say?” I asked. “We were kids hopelessly in love with the idea of being in love.”

She took a step toward me until our bodies nearly touched. My stomach clenched and every nerve in my body became acutely aware of her. She was my kryptonite, the one woman in this entire world who could bring me to my knees.

“There’s a lot to say, Liam. Tell me you can’t sense me the way I sense you, that every neuron isn’t demanding that you touch me, every muscle trying to sway toward me. It’s always been this way, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

My eyes narrowed until all I saw was her face staring at me, her eyes pleading with me. “I gave you everything and it wasn’t enough.”

She didn’t reply, merely taking another step forward until our bodies touched. My teeth bit into my bottom lip to suppress the moan that wanted to break free from my chest. I watched as she slowly stood on tiptoes, her hands grasping my waist to support her.

Her lips were soft against mine, her tongue tracing the seam of my mouth. Years melted away with every brush of her lips on mine until I was back to being sixteen again, kissing her for the first time on the beach under the moonlight. Over the years, I’d kissed a lot of women on my quest to forget and to fill the void inside me. None of themfelt like this, none of them contained the unique flavour of Oonagh.

Voices echoed into the kitchen, but she’d released the beast that dwelt inside me. I grabbed Oonagh by the waist and lifted her into the pantry, pushing the door closed. Her back hit the wall, her legs wrapping around my waist as her arms snaked around my neck.

Gone were the soft kisses she teased me with in the kitchen. In their place was raw sensation that gave voice to all my emotions. My tongue demanded entry to the recesses of her mouth, my hands on either cheek, angling her head back to give me full control.

A few years ago, I stopped kissing the women I picked up. It was too personal, and this proved my point. Our lips smashed into each other, our mouths devouring every word that we wanted to speak, our tongues fighting for dominance. There was no love in this moment, only mindless passion that demanded a release.

I propped Oonagh up on the counter, my hands tugging that vest top over her head. One hand descended on her left breast while the other held her right as I sucked her nipple until her legs contracted around my waist. My teeth grazed her nipple and her back arched in response, fingers tight in my hair to hold me closer to her.

My dick was on fire, straining against the zip that felt like it was ready to cut me in half. I wanted to bury myself so deeply inside her that she knew exactly who she belonged to.

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