Hi beautiful readers,

If you’ve read Fearless, you already know Connor. If you’ve devoured the Charming Irish series, you’ve met the rest of the McGloughlin brothers, Cillian, Brennan and Seamus.

You’ve felt the chaos. The loyalty. The heartbreak.

But what about the twins?

Padraig and Liam have always been the mysterious ones. Musicians. Rockstars. Brothers with secrets that no one talks about. Not even at Sunday dinner.

Well, Forever Flames is where everything changes.

This is Padraig’s story. A second-chance, slow-burn, friends-to-lovers romance that stretches across twenty years. It’s messy. Beautiful. Raw. Full of grief, healing, and the kind of love that never dies.

Stevie was his first kiss. First time. First heartbreak. His forever flame.

This book means everything to me. I finally got to show you what shaped these men into who they are while planting the seeds for Hushed Harmony (Liam’s story, coming soon).

Balancing both books nearly broke me, but it also brought the entire McGloughlin family full circle.

Stevie and Padraig’s journey will hopefully punch you in the heart and leave you breathless. They’re soulmates, no question. The only thing in their way is everything.

Are you ready to dive in! For my newsletter readers, here is the first chapter of Forever Flames. It’s emotional, immersive, and sets the tone for the entire book.

Ready to burn?

Kaylene

Chapter 1 – Padraig
Fifteen years prior

Sunlight cuts across the scarred lockers in long strips, exposing scratches and old tape marks like battle wounds.

Down by the library, somebody blasts Lil’ Wayne from their phone. A pack of pimply freshmen argue over some bullshit at the stairwell. A couple of cheerleaders giggle conspiratorially when they emerge from the restroom.

Everything is familiar. It should feel like every other Friday. Except it isn’t and never will be again.

As I contemplate how the hell my life has been completely upended, I lean against Stevie Hayes’ locker with my arms crossed. I tap my toe to a rhythm I don’t recognize at first until I realize it’s one of our songs.

One Connor, Liam, and I wrote a few months ago before the accident.

My phone pings. Liam.

Dar, move your arse.

Fuck it. He can wait a goddamn minute.

Stevie’s late again. Always late. Probably rescuing a freshman who’s lost. Or charming the debate teacher into thinking it’s his idea to let her drop the class.

She’s the kind of girl people sense when she walks into a room. Striking without trying to be. Honey-blonde hair touches her shoulders in messy waves. Her expressive brown eyes always seem like they’re holding something back. Her beauty’s effortless, grounded in raw creativity and emotional depth.

Without her, I’d never have survived these past couple months. I’ll admit it, my longtime crush has turned into something…more.

My phone buzzes again. I don’t bother looking because the doors at the end of the hallway bang open and Stevie barrels toward me. A tiny tornado of torn jeans and stubborn light. Her t-shirt’s knotted at the waist. She sees me and smiles like I’m the only person in the hallway.

Something knocks sideways inside my chest.

She slips between the couples making out next to me and stops in front of her open locker, breathless and grinning. “Seriously, McGloughlin?”

I push off the metal. “Apparently, you need a lesson in security clearance.”

“Security clearance?” She jabs me in the ribs with her books. “You suddenly running some underground locker mafia?”

“Might be a good way to earn a few bucks.” I grab her stuff before she drops it, flipping open her notebook. Her notes are chaos but organized in some random highlighted way. “You crack me up with your color-coding.”

“Fuck you. It helps me think.” Stevie shrugs as she reaches around me to grab her jacket. “Don’t mock the process.”

I hand the notebook back together with my sketchbook she safeguards for me. Her fingers brush mine.

Static. Electricity. Something.

No. Everything.

She’s been my—our—best friend since we were all seven years old. I haven’t told her my feelings have changed but I’m pretty sure she feels the same way.

Liam knows, of course. I don’t need to say a word. We’re telepathic in a way.

I’m not sure he’s happy about this turn of events, though.

“Dar. Let’s fuckin’ go.” Liam’s hoodie is half-zipped. His backpack is slung over one shoulder. His hair’s a mess. Dark mood on full display.

People always say we look exactly alike. We’re twins, so it’s true, but also not so much.

Liam’s a storm. I’m the calm before.

“Nice of you to show up,” Liam mutters, kicking his heel off the bottom of her locker.

Stevie flashes him a too-bright smile. Swings the door shut with her hip like she owns the place. “Aww, you missed me grump-a-lumps.”

“We were supposed to peace out last period,” he directs his comment toward me.

I glance up at him. “I had chemistry.”

“You were going to ditch me?” Stevie rolls her eyes, reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a crinkled letter. “Oh, and by the way. I applied to Wazzu. You’re not getting rid of me yet, Liam.”

His face doesn’t change. Other than the tiniest twitch at the edge of his mouth. He’s not mad at her. He’s mad at the world and how fucked up everything is.

“Congrats,” he sneers.

Undaunted, she turns to me and tugs on my sleeve, eyes shining. “Well?”

“Fuck yeah.” Unlike Liam, my heart fills to the brim. Full of a thousand possibilities I can’t name. “Let’s keep the party going.”

“Can we get outta here?” Liam growls.

Stevie flips him off, loops her arm through mine and drags me toward the doors. He follows, slowly. A shadow trailing at the edge.

Outside, Da’s original McGloughlin Construction truck with the dented fender sits crooked across the white line. This morning, we were pathetically late so it was more of an abandonment than a parking job.

Stevie yanks open the passenger door and climbs in without hesitation. Middle seat. Liam slides into the driver’s seat, slamming the door hard enough to shake the frame. I take my place on the passenger side.

Stevie wiggles to get comfortable, settling back against the seat with my sketchbook jammed between her knees, causing her leg to press against mine. I don’t move. Don’t breathe. When we turn on to our street, she leans forward to adjust the vent. Her vanilla scent surrounds me.

“Mom made spaghetti.” Stevie glances between us. “And brownies. You should come over. Bring the boys.”

“Nah, I’ve got a thing,” Liam scoffs as the truck creaks to a stop in front of our house which is next door to Stevie’s. “Get the fuck out, kids. I’m taking the truck.”

He doesn’t wait for approval. The second our feet hit the ground, Liam peels out, gravel pinging the curb.

Stevie stands beside me, arms around my sketchbook like a shield. She’s not looking at her house. She’s looking at me.

“Dinner?” Her voice tilts. Hopes. “You can draw a bit in peace.”

I’m not letting an opportunity to hang out with her slip by. “Aye. First, I should eat with the lads. I’ll come over after they’re settled.”

“Makes sense.” Stevie abruptly turns toward the steps to her house.

Shit. Three steps and I’m beside her again. “Wait.”

She freezes. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t run, either.

I catch her wrist. Light. Careful.

She turns halfway and her brown eyes peer up at me. Before I can stop myself, my lips graze hers. Not soft. Or gentle. Every ounce of pent-up sexual frustration I’ve kept at bay is unleashed.

Screw the friend-zone. I want Stevie in the fuck-zone.

My tongue twines with hers. My sketchbook hits the porch with a slap when she wraps her arms around my neck. My hands find her waist, then her back, then up into her hair. Every part of her burns into me.

After a moment, I pull away, barely enough to check in on her. “You good with this?”

“Wow. Padraig. Are you sure?” she pants, pink-cheeked, eyes wide.

“Fuck, yeah I’m sure, Stevie. I’ve been waiting to kiss you forever.” I press my forehead against hers. “Since the day you wore the American flag bikini at the Fourth of July barbecue.”

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.

It starts slow. A kiss meant to ease us into this new skin we’re trying on. Then her hands are in my hair, and my arms are around her waist, pulling her into my lap like she belongs there.

“You kiss like you drum.” She presses her cheek to mine. “Sexy. Fast, loud, a little chaotic.”

Jesus God. My dick fills to capacity.

“I can slow down.” I hover my lips against hers.

Her pussy presses against the hard line of my cock through my jeans, and I have to squeeze my eyes shut not to lose it. Her hands slide under my shirt, fingertips gliding up my ribs. My skin tightens, every nerve lit. “I don’t want you to. Joni’s in her room. Ziggy’s playing video games. My parents are already in bed. They won’t bother to check on us.”

Stevie yanks the sweatshirt over her head, tossing it to the floor without a second thought. Holy fucking shit. I can see the outline of her dusky nipples through her sheer bra.

Good God, man. Do. Not. Come. In. Your. Pants.

“Padraig.” She unhooks her bra behind her back, letting the straps fall from her shoulders. When it drops to the couch, I forget how to breathe.

Her tits are full and high and perfect with those pink buds puckered tightly into little bullets. Unable to stop myself, I cup her breast and drag my thumb across the peak, then duck my head and close my mouth around it. She gasps and grinds her hips against mine, fisting in my hair.

“I’ve wanted this forever,” she mewls. “Haven’t you?”

“Aye.” I crash my mouth to hers.

We’re a mess after that, fumbling with zippers and buttons. Quietly laughing through our clumsiness until things turn desperate again. She shoves her pajama bottoms down, catching her panties halfway around her thighs, then kicks them off completely.

“Holy fuck.” My eyes lock in on her glistening pussy covered by only a wisp of blonde hair.

With only porn to guide me, I kneel between Stevie’s legs and drag my tongue through her folds. She’s delicious. Sweet. Tangy. My tongue explores everywhere, slow and deep until I find her little clit. Experimenting, I suck on it then flick it with the tip of my tongue until she’s panting and shaking. Her thighs clamp around my ears and she moans into the cushion.

“Shhhh—” Her parents might be cool but I don’t want to risk them interrupting the single greatest night of my life.

I manage to shove my jeans and boxers down, grabbing the condom I’ve carried for years. My cock springs free, thick and already leaking. She watches as I tear the wrapper open with shaking fingers and roll it over my length.

Settling between her legs, I guide the tip of my cock to her entrance, pressing in slow and steady.

Her breath catches sharp and I freeze. ”Stevie, are you okay? We can stop…”

“No. Go slow. You know it’s my first time.” She grips my shoulders and urges me on.

“Shit. I’m sorry. It’s mine too.” I hesitate for a second before I push in again.

Gradually. Inch by inch. Her body takes me, tight and trembling. I have to grit my teeth against the need to rut into her. When I’m buried to the hilt, I cage her upper body with my forearms. “You feel…fuck. Stevie, you feel unbelievable.”

“I’m so full. Should you move?” Her nails rake down my back as she shifts her hips, testing the stretch.

Yes. Yes, I should. Careful at first until her quiet moans turn needy. Then faster as her legs hook around me. Her pussy grips my cock on every thrust, wet and hot and fucking perfect.

She comes first, mouth falling open, body arching hard. She says my name like it’s the only word that matters. I follow a second later, hips jerking, cock pulsing deep inside the condom.

We stay tangled together, skin slick, hearts thudding.

No fear.

No holding back anymore.

No pretending we were ever meant for anyone else.

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