“Only you,” I breathe in response.
Our lips, mere centimeters away from each other, before he pulls away from me.
“I’ll be right back,” Finn says.
He turns around and runs into a nearby store across the street, dodging cars in the lively nightlife of Quay Street. I turned around and a wind chill strikes straight to my bones. July in Galway was spectacular, but the night was far more chilling than I expected. Suddenly a leather jacket is placed around my shoulders. His broad arms wrap around me and nuzzles his thin beard into my neck. I tilt my head back and rest it against his shoulder.
“I was sixteen. I wasn’t an easy kid. I lost my anger one night and I punched him so many times that I couldn’t stop. I served my time and got a job at the pub. Worked there ever since,” Finn confesses.
His gentle breath against my neck gives me goosebumps. This man has an effect me that I can’t explain.
“Your anger is a part of you still,” I say softly.
“He was an arsehole and he touched you. I saw red,” he replied.
“Where did you go?” I ask.
He unwraps his arms from me and takes my hand in his. He places a gold ring on my right-hand ring finger. It’s a perfect fit. The gold Claddagh was adorned with an emerald inside the crown.
“To remind you of our time together, Goddess,” he says.
I reach up and touch his cheek, pulling him into a soft and gentle kiss against my cold lips.
“Come back to Dublin. After you do what you need to do, I want you to come back to Dublin.”
“Have you ever been to Belfast?” I asked, a smirking smile gracing my lips.
“When do we leave?” He asks.
I have no idea what I am doing or why, but I can’t stop myself. I want to be with him. I want him to be with me.