Binding 13 (Boys of Tommen, #1)

by Chloe Walsh

I found myself beginning to look forward to going to school. It was the strangest turnabout of my life, considering for the majority of my life I had loathed school, but Tommen had become almost like a safe place to be.

In my world, invisibility equaled safety. I was happy to be wallpaper and blend in. And Johnny Kavanagh was about as opposite of invisible as I could think of.

Thing was, whenever his eyes locked with mine, I never saw any of that fabricated machoism or his notorious glower. It was hard to describe the look I received because usually when our eyes locked, it was because Johnny had caught me staring at him, be it in the lunch hall or outside classrooms, and I always turned away quickly, mortified.

"I'm Gerard Gibson," he introduced himself. "But everyone calls me Gibsie." "I don’t," Claire tossed out airily. Gibsie chuckled. "Okay, everyone except for this one calls me Gibsie."

"Come on, Claire-Bear," he teased. "Is that any way to talk about the guy who gave you your first kiss?" "That was the result of an unfortunate game of spin the bottle," she shot back, cheeks turning pink, as she glared up at him. "And I've told you a million times to stop calling me that." "It's all a show," Gibsie informed me with a huge grin. "She loves me really." "I really don’t," Claire shot back, flustered now. "I tolerate him because he brings cookies to my house." She turned to me and said, "Gerard's mother owns a bakery in the city. Her cakes are insanely delicious."

"Boys with pretty eyes and big muscles mess everything up for girls," Claire huffed.

Shannon Lynch had eyes the color of midnight blue that wouldn’t stay the fuck out of my head.

Call it being overly protective of a vulnerable girl or call it something else, but I kept my ears open when it came to Shannon Lynch and shut down any shite that may be an issue, making sure she had a smooth transition into Tommen. However, after a couple of days, it quickly became clear that she didn’t need anyone's help. Shannon was liked at Tommen. Teachers liked her. Students liked her. I fucking liked her.

And if Bella was looking to provoke a reaction out of me by screwing my teammate, she would be sorely disappointed because I would never give her the satisfaction. Did it hurt? Yes. Did I feel betrayed? Of course. Did that mean I wanted her back? Hell fucking no. Because I couldn’t handle liars, and that's what she was. I also didn’t cope well with mind games, which was exactly what she was trying to do to me. Breaking up with me, going off with my teammate, and then turning right around and flooding my inbox and telling me she wanted me back was a prime example of the games this girl liked to play with me.

He, along with the rest of them, needed to get it together because we had the School Boys Shield to play for next week and I had no intention of running myself into

"And I love you, too," he laughed, before turning his attention to me and stifling a groan. "Jesus Christ," he groaned so that only I could hear him. "I swear to god, lad, that girl drives me crazy." "You're already crazy," I reminded him. "You don’t need anyone's help with that." "Look at her, Johnny," he groaned, ignoring my jab. "Look at how beautiful that girl is. Christ, it might be that sunshine hair, but I swear she glows."

"Providing we both make it out of our youth without any accidental babies," he added thoughtfully. "And her brother doesn’t cut my dick off first, of course."

Glaring, I shoved his chest and hissed, "Go fuck yourself!" "I do!" Gibsie hissed, eyes wide. "Three times a day. Can you?"

No girl wanted her first time to happen in the backseat of a car.

Lizzie smirked. "She went running to her shadow." I arched a brow. "Who?" "Gibsie," Lizzie filled in. "Oh my god." My eyes lit up. "What did he do?" "What do you think he did?" Lizzie shot back. "He jumped in to defend her honor."

"There's no time," he replied. "I need your help, babe." "I'm not your babe," Claire grumbled and tossed another pillow at him. "What if I had been naked in here?" "Then I would die a happy man," he retorted as the second pillow smacked against his chest. "It's the cat."

"Why me?" I groaned. "Because we're your babies," Hughie announced, leaning his weight on me. "My babies?" I slurred. "How the fuck are you three anyone's babies?" "You're our captain," Hughie slurred. "We're kind of your responsibility."

"Your future wife saved me from a bad fucking pussy today," he slurred. "Buy a ring, lad." Slinging an arm over my shoulder, he added, "Pussy whisperer's a keeper."

"Did you ever talk to Shannon Lynch after that day on the pitch?" I turned my bleary gaze on him, too drunk to mask my curiosity. "My Shannon?" Hughie laughed. "She's your Shannon now?"

"Keep looking out for her, Cap," he said, squeezing my shoulder. "God knows someone needs to."

"About why that boy down there is looking at you like he wants to eat you up," she replied, and then pointed a blatantly obvious finger right at Johnny – who was staring right at me again.

Either Claire was clueless, Gibsie was clueless, or they were both as blind as each other because I could feel, see, and taste the chemistry wafting off them.

Not when he terrified me worse than any of the bullies at school ever had…

She was in my space. Which meant both my attention and my thoughts were fixated solely on her. And I fucking hated it. I wanted her, I realized, and it was entirely inappropriate and horrendous bad luck on my account, but I did. I wanted Shannon Lynch. And worse than wanting her, I really fucking liked her. She had this sweet something about her, and I liked how it felt when I was around her. I liked the way she looked, the way she spoke, the way she carried herself. I liked a whole heap of things about her, and oddly enough, my liking her had nothing to do with what was under her clothes.

"It comes with cock, Claire-Bear," Gibsie announced – and not quietly. "An unlimited supply of five-star cock." "Say it louder," she hissed, slapping his shoulder. "I don’t think everyone heard you." "It comes with cock, Claire!" he taunted, accepting her challenge without an ounce of shame. "My cock." "Fuck your cock," Claire growled, looking mortified. "Of course, you can," he nodded with a grin. "But here's not really the place."

"I’m ready for a repeat performance," he told her. "Say the word, Claire-Bear, tell me you're ready for us, and I'm all yours –"

He smiled down at me. "Hi, Shannon." "Hi, Johnny," I whispered, staring back at him, feeling like my heart was two seconds away from bursting out of my chest.

I was pissed off actually. Who the hell did Ronan McGarry think he was? More, who did he think I was? Inviting me into the bathrooms with him. God, he looked like he actually expected me to say yes.

I hated humans. They were such a disappointment. And to think, god switched dinosaurs for man. He must be raging.

"Autobiographies. Fiction. Crime. Thrillers. Romance." I sighed, thinking of the pile of books in my room. "I'm not picky about genres. I just have to like the blurb. If the back of the book can suck me in, then I'm sold."

There was something about the way a dog looked at you; they didn’t care if you were a famous rugby player or a homeless person on the streets. They only cared about how you treated them, and once they chose you as their human, you had a faithful friend for the rest of their lives.

Bolting over to him, I collapsed down on the bed and wrapped my arms around my brother's neck, clinging to him like he was the only thing holding my world together. Sometimes I thought that might be true.

"You are so concerned with fighting the bullies at school, Mam," I sobbed, tears streaming down my cheeks. "When the biggest bully of them all lives under this roof."

For once in my life, I wanted a safe place to run to instead of from. I felt like I was slowly dying in that house. In my home. Where I was supposed to lay my head. Where I was supposed to feel safe.

"What happened?" he demanded, glaring down at me. "Who the fuck made you cry?"

"Give me a name," Johnny growled, dropping his hands to his hips. "And I'll take care of it." "What– no! I'm grand," I quickly replied. "I have allergies." "Me, too. I’m allergic to assholes and bullshit," Johnny snarled. "Now, tell me who made you cry and I'll fix it."

There was nothing forgettable about the girl, and I found myself gravitating towards her, wanting to find her looking at me, and then growing frustrated when she didn’t.

"Come on," he said in a coaxing tone as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, tucked me into his side, and led me out of school. "I'll take care of you."

"You want me to?" Shannon asked in a small voice. "Come with you?" I nodded uncertainly. "Yeah, Shannon." My voice was thick. "I want you to come with me."

"You're safe," he whispered, cupping my cheek in his hand, eyes boring holes straight through my soul. "I promise." That word. God. That one word broke me. It was all too much. My life. Those girls. My father. And in the middle of it all, I could only see him. This boy.

Her body was shaking. Shaking. Which was why she was currently tucked into my side with my arm wrapped tightly around her frail shoulders.

I could ruin these people. I wanted to. Every cell in my brain was projecting nothing but rage and vengeance, demanding I take back what they took from Shannon. Take their pride like they took hers. Scare them like they scared her. Inflict pain on them like they tortured her. I could taste my anger. It was fucking potent.

"Now," I sneered, glaring down at their faces. "Who wants to call my girlfriend a whore to my face?"

"You sure as shit did something to her," I snarled. "And when you fuck with her, you fuck with me."

I left her out here in a freezing cold car for half an hour. It wasn’t good enough. Not for her.

Her eyes burned holes in me so deep that I had to look away before completely losing myself in the girl. It was too much. She was too fucking much.

Shannon blushed. "Well, I just – I thought you might–" "I trust you," I told her. "I'm not counting anything. It never even crossed my mind, okay?"

"And she's worse than him," my brother shot back. "Leaving those kids here on their own." He ran a hand through his blond hair and growled. "She could pick up the phone and talk to the boys, but no, like always, she runs and buries her head in the sand."

"And I love you for that, but I'm not taking handouts from my girlfriend."

"I'm prettier to look at," he announced with a wink and then proceeded to toss back shots like it was going out of fashion.