Page 5 of Forever Flames: Padraig & Stevie
She laughs. “Four years ago? We were twelve.”
“Well, I’m a slow burner.” I kiss her again. Then I step back. “The faster I check on them, the faster I get back.”
“Okay.” I feel her watching me as I dash up the steps to my house.
Our kiss is buzzing on my lips when I push through the front door. The smell of Ma’s beef and barley stew wafts through the air. Shocking. It’s been weeks since she’s cooked. I didn’t expect her to be home. My stomach growls.
Connor’s on the couch with the remote, one ankle balanced on his knee, eyes flicking between the match on screen. My oldest brother nods when he sees me.
“You good here for a bit?” I keep my voice low. “I was thinking I’d head to Stevie’s. I’ll keep my phone on me. If you need—”
Connor shakes his head, quick. “Nah. Go ahead, take the night off. Ma wanted to cook for the wee ones. Da’s obviously at the hospital.”
“You sure? I’m happy to stay and help out.”
“Aye.” His tired eyes find mine. “Check in later.”
I nod, then head into the kitchen.
Ma’s stew is cooling on the stove, dark and rich. Not able to resist, I ladle out a full bowl, tear off a thick slice of soda bread and wolf it down standing by the sink. It’s perfect. Filling. Familiar.
I rinse the bowl, set it in the drying rack, and grab my hoodie from the back of the chair. When I pass through the living room again, Connor’s fast asleep so I slip out the door to my destination.
The Hayes’ porch light glows soft as a candle against the dark. Stevie opens the door before I can knock. Like she was waiting.
She’s changed into pajama shorts and an oversized navy sweatshirt I’m almost sure used to be mine. Her hair’s up in a messy floof of blonde. Bare feet. No makeup.
The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
“Hey.” She steps aside to let me in.
I walk through like I’ve done a hundred times, pretending my entire world didn’t tilt sideways the second I kissed her.
Her house smells like laundry and brownies and whatever candle her mom always lights after dinner. The TV is on in the living room. I recognize the voices from some British teen show she makes me and Liam watch with her.
We sit close on the couch. Stevie tucks her legs under her, arms looped around her knees. The hem of my sweatshirt falls low on her thighs. I shift beside her. Try not to stare.
Fail.
I know every inch of this room from the crooked family photos to the chipped corner of the coffee table. How her dad’s slippers always end up under the recliner. I know every inch of Stevie too. She bites the inside of her cheek when she’s nervous, like now. Always hums along with the credits, even when she doesn’t realize it.
What I don’t know is how to pretend tonight is the same as any other night.
How can I when the air crackles between us?
“The brothers good?” She leans against me.
“Aye.” My eyes are fixed on the screen. I have no idea what to do next. “Seamus was reading in his bed. Cillian and Brennan were fighting over the Xbox. Nothing new.”
Her hand finds mine. “They’re lucky. Having you.”
“Bollocks. They need my ma. I’m the stand-in until Da gets home from the hospital.” I squeeze her fingers.
“You’re more than that.” Her head tilts up to mine. “You take care of everyone.”
I shift to face her. “I haven’t stopped thinking about earlier.”
“Me either.” She leans forward as her fingers curl into the hem of my shirt.
