Page 4 of Kick Out of It

You read it? No spoilers!

I couldn’t help myself! Curiosity got the best of me.

That’s off the record, by the way. If you dare publish that, I’ll tell the world it was your book recommendation.

Fair enough.

Go enjoy your smutty book until the sun comes up. Let me know when you finish the second one so I can tell you who my favourite was.

Fuck that, I’m not waiting. It’s the hold out. They are always my favourite.

That’s both endearing and disturbing, Mr. O’Leary.

I have to admit, that’s hotter than you calling me Ronan.

If I had to guess, you like the sweet ones in your books. What do you call them?

Don’t make me say it.

I’ll say it for you! Cinnamon rolls. Is it because they remind you of me?

You’re incorrigible. I’m logging off now.

Sweet dreams, night owl.

Have a great day, early bird.

CHAPTER 2

NORA

Landing in Heathrow for our layover, Leo is resting his head and I gently stir him. “We’re here, little peanut.”

“I’m not little,” he grumbles, sitting up and adjusting his O’Leary kit he insisted on travelling in. “Are we here?”

“Nearly. The captain gave his announcement.”

Leo says something under his breath, but I choose to ignore it. He’s only turning eleven, but you’d think he was already a teenager. I've learned to pick my battles with my moody child; no use in making the pre-pubescent attitude worse. Thankfully, he doesn’t fight me and we catch our flight to Cork without issue.

When I took the position here in Ireland, I wasn’t promised fame and glory. Beggars can’t be choosers. When it became available, I jumped at the chance to cover a team I’ve been following since birth. I’m sure mine is one of the only English families who are Cork fans, and I'm genuinely surprised we were not asked to relinquish our citizenship over it. With Leo as obsessed with the team as my parents and me, I hope it lessens the blow of leaving his mates back in America for this adventure.

We catch our next flight, and once we’ve arrived in Cork, Leo and I make our way to baggage claim.

“Mom! You’ll never believe?—”

“Yes, our luggage is here sooner than expected,” I groan, but an all too familiar scent of unwashed kits and synthetic leather wafts our way.

Bloody hell, if there are footballers…

A quick glance to my left confirms my suspicion. I recognise several of the Cork players, so with our luggage secure, I usher us to the exit with haste. The last thing I want is to run into Ronan or Keith with Leo in tow.

Except we’re not fast enough, as my worst nightmare comes to fruition. “Nora? Is that you?” Quickened footsteps behind us have me moving faster. “Nora!”

Leo grips my hand and stops us. “You’re famous, Mom. Let them take a pic?—”

“I’m not famous. whoever it is doesn’t want a picture of me, peanut. I’m sure they’d rather take a photo with…” My foolish heart allows me to glance back. “Him,” I finish, swallowing hard at the sight before me.

Ronan is rushing towards us, donning a crisp, dark grey suit with no tie—dress shirt unbuttoned one too many. “Nora!”

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