“A debate team.”
Kane laughed at me, then bent his head and kissed my belly. “I love you already.”
My heart!
“I can’t wait to meet her,” I murmured.
Kane looked at me and smiled. “Me too, babydoll. Me too.”
I simpered, “You look like a new person right now. I love it.”
He blinked his eyes then lowered them. “You mean because I’m smiling? I know—it changes my face. I’ve heard that before.”
I frowned. “No. I meant you as a person, not your looks.”
Kane swallowed. “Oh.”
I tilted my head to the side. “I love your body the way it is; I just want to make that clear.”
“You love my body?” he asked, moving back to my side now that our little one settled into a peaceful slumber.
I nodded my head. “What’s not to love?”
“My scars,” Kane instantly replied.
“Your scars are beautiful. You are beautiful,” I said as I tenderly traced the many scars on his arm with my fingertips.
He looked into my eyes. “Beautiful?” he repeated, his voice low.
“Beautiful.” I nodded and placed my hands flat on his marred but stunning skin. “Your wounds are closed, and your pain is over. What’s left behind is a design; a picture that shows you were stronger than your hurt. That’s what I see when I look at them. I see how strong you were. How strong you are.”
Kane fully turned to me and stared at me with a gaze that caused my breathing to quicken.
“The scars... they physically healed a long time ago, but I’ve relived receiving them a million times in my head, and then... then you happened and made everything better. You’ve kept my demons at bay by just being you.” Kane reached and placed his trembling hands on my thighs. “You healed me, babydoll.”
Oh.
“Kane,” I whispered breathlessly.
He licked his lips. “Yes?”
“Kiss me,” I panted, “now.”
I didn’t need to ask him twice.
He covered my mouth with his and pressed me back down against his mattress. I tried my best to kiss him back with the same intensity he gave to me, but I was exhausted.
“You’re tired.” He smiled.
I hated that my stamina was fucking up our moment.
“I’m sorry,” I panted.
Kane kissed my head. “Don’t be sorry, just rest.”
“Let me feel you. All of you.”
Kane swallowed. “O-Okay.”
I sat up and traced my fingers over all of his scars. I paused a couple of times to kiss them too. I wanted to shower Kane’s body with love so he never doubted my thoughts towards it again. I was about to lie back down on the bed when I brushed my fingers over the hair that covered his neck and felt really thick lumps.
I tilted my head to the side and I pushed Kane’s hair out of the way. When I did so, I froze.
“Kane,” I whispered, “it says ‘Marco’.”
He moved away from me. He stood up from the bed and pulled on a pair of tracksuit trousers. “I know what it says.”
“That’s not a tattoo,” I continued. “It’s a scar.”
Kane wouldn’t look at me as I stated the obvious.
“Yes. It’s a scar, Aideen.”
I shook my head. He said it like it wasn’t a big deal when it was.
It really was.
“Was it carved into you? Who done it? Why-”
“Aideen!”
I jumped with fright when Kane bellowed my name. I shrunk back against the pillows behind me and tightly closed my lips together.
“Leave it alone.”
I couldn’t.
“Marco made you do your jobs, right? They were the cause of the scars, weren’t they?”
“Aideen.”
Oh, fuck.
He was infuriated.
“Okay,” I whispered and looked away from him.
Kane was silent for a few moments before he said, “I’m going for a run. I’ll be back later.”
I looked at his bedroom door when he exited through it and I thought, I won’t be here when you get back.
“What’s wrong with you?”
I was sitting in my new apartment with my girlfriends surrounding me, but I didn’t feel present in the room with them. My mind was elsewhere.
I looked at Bronagh when she spoke to me.
“What?”
Bronagh deadpanned, “Don’t play dumb, somethin’ is botherin’ you. You ask us round for some tea and a chat, but you have barely spoken and we got here hours ago. Spill.”
I didn’t want to spill. I didn’t want to do anything.
“Did you and Kane have a fight?” This came from Branna when I remained silent.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Kind of.”
“You can’t kind of have a fight with a Slater brother,” Keela interjected. “You either did or you didn’t.”
I rolled my eyes. “I did then.”
“Why?” Bronagh asked, her voice soft.
I exhaled. “I asked him about his scars.”
“Oh, fuck,” Branna mumbled.
Yeah. Oh, fuck.
“My sentiments exactly,” I grunted.
Keela whistled. “A shitstorm happened?”