“Gibsie,” I confirmed quietly, thinking about how those two were joined at the hip at school. “That’s the one.” Joey nodded, then released a low chuckle. “Bloody eejit threw himself on top of the car, demanding I give him back his center.” Laughing, he added, “He looked serious, too. Like he genuinely thought I was kidnapping Kavanagh.” My brows furrowed. “Why did Gibsie call Johnny his center?” “Johnny’s position is outside center in rugby,” he explained. “He’s number thirteen.” Oh, yeah, I knew that. I remembered his jersey. “So, you dropped them both home?” I asked, feeling warm. “To
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