Binding 13 (Boys of Tommen, #1)

by Chloe Walsh

“You’ll fix it?” I questioned. “You make it sound like you’re in the Mafia or something.” Johnny barked out a laugh and held the door open, gesturing with his hand. “Come on, Shannon like the river. Get in my car.”

I usually wasn’t much of a talker. Not around strangers at least. It didn’t feel that way around him, though. Not tonight, at least.

“I play,” he finally said. “For Tommen. Yeah, I know,” I quipped. “I saw you, and I still have an egg on the back to my head to prove it.” Johnny grimaced. “No,” he pressed, tone oddly serious. “I mean I play.” I stared blankly back at him. “That’s…good?” He released an impatient laugh. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” “Nope.” I shook my head. “I honestly don’t.” He considered this for a long moment before nodding. “I like that.” “You like what?” “That you don’t know what I’m talking about,” he replied without hesitation. “It’s a little insulting and a lot refreshing.” “Uh, well, you’re welcome?” I offered, not knowing what to say to that. “So, rugby’s your thing, huh?” Johnny smirked. “You could say that.” I felt like I was missing something here. “And you’re good?” I thought he was good. I thought he was the best out there last Friday, but I didn’t have a clue about the sport. His smile widened, eyes crinkling slightly, as he repeated his earlier words, “You could say that.” Okay, I was definitely missing something. “Am I going to be embarrassed by this?” I asked, racking my brain for information that might help me. I didn’t have any. Sure, I knew he was the captain of the school team, and those photographers and reporters were snapping at his heels, but I figured that had to do with him being captain and the best player on the field that day. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something. “If I do an internet search on you, am I go...

“I was raging, Shannon.” “You were?” I asked, ignoring the way my insides shivered when he said my name. In fact, I was desperately trying to ignore the electric current of heat pulsing through my veins.

“I just witnessed you threaten to cut off Ronan’s penis.” “That little eejit doesn’t count,” was his grunted response. “I can’t fucking stand that kid, but his uncle’s the school trainer so I have no choice than to tolerate him. He’s always pushing my buttons and acting out on the pitch, pulling reckless stunts and causing unnecessary drama. It’s like babysitting a fucking toddler during matches. I swear, it’s a daily test to my self-restraint not to throttle the little bollox.”

“You come across as a lot older.” “That’s because I’m a ninety-year-old woman disguised as a teenager,” I quipped. “That’s”—Johnny scrunched his nose up—“A disturbing concept.” “Yep,” I mumbled, embarrassed at my crappy banter. “It is.”

“I was only small. It was one of those read-it-yourself books with the pictures in place for words and all that shite. They should have rated it PG because I swear to god, I genuinely believed the whole fucking sky was going to cave in on me.” He shook his head at the memory. “I slept under—rather than on—my bed for three fucking weeks until my da finally caved and moved me into one of the bedrooms downstairs.” “Why?” I laughed loudly. “What good was moving downstairs going to do if the sky was falling?” Johnny grinned and his dimples deepened in his cheeks. “Ah, see…” He chuckled, tapping his head with his forefinger. “In my naive six-year-old mind, I was thinking that if the sky did in fact fall, it might break the roof, but it couldn’t possibly break the downstairs ceiling, too. I’d have a better chance of surviving on the ground level.” “You were a clever little fella, weren’t you?” “I was something alright,” Johnny replied, laughing along with me. “A bleeding eejit.”

The awareness that I liked his touch was unsettling, but not nearly as unsettling as the urge I had to flip my hand over and entwine my fingers with his. “Shite.” Yanking his hand away, Johnny shifted back to lean against the door, grimacing in what looked like discomfort at the move. His hand automatically shot to his thigh again. “Sorry,” he grunted and it was a noticeably pained sound. Clearing his throat, he added, “I shouldn’t have done that.” “It’s okay,” I whispered, chewing nervously on my bottom lip. “I don’t mind.” He exhaled a hard breath and then ran a hand through his hair with his free hand. “No, it’s not okay.” His gaze drifted to my mouth and he expelled another hard breath. “It’s not fucking okay at all.” “It is okay,” I tried to comfort him by saying. “Don’t be mad over it.” “I’m not mad,” Johnny bit out, jaw clenched. “I’m just… Fuck!” He so was mad.

“What’s wrong with you?” Johnny’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” “You had an ice pack on your leg at school earlier,” I stated, gesturing with my hand to where he was still digging his fist into his thigh. “Are you hurt?” His gaze followed mine to his thigh and he quickly yanked his hand away. “Jesus,” he grunted, looking appalled. “I didn’t realize I was doing that.” “You’ve been touching yourself since we got in the car,” I announced. “Jesus Christ!” Johnny hissed, gaping at me in horror. I immediately regretted my choice of words and began to backpedal. “I mean, not touching yourself. Obviously, you weren’t touching yourself touching yourself—” “Please stop talking,” Johnny begged, holding up a hand. I closed my mouth and nodded. Shifting his body gingerly, he sank back down in his seat, flinching ever so slightly at the movement. I watched in silence as he fastened his seat belt and inhaled a deep breath, expelling it slowly. “Just to be clear,” he stated after a long pause of silence. “I really wasn’t feeling myself up or anything like that. I’m just…” “Sore?” I offered, remembering his words from that day. His gaze locked on mine, wary now. “Yeah,” he admitted with a pained sigh. I nodded in understanding. “You have an injury?” Johnny looked from my face to his leg, a frustrated expression crossing his features. “I have something, alright,” he muttered under his breath, and then released another agitated sigh before blurting out, “I fucked my adduct...

Leaning back in my seat, I raised a hand and grabbed the Jesus handle and focused on counting the cars passing us in a bid to distract myself from obsessing over the speedometer on his dashboard. I could feel the tension emanating from him, his earlier friendliness replaced with stony silence, our conversation obviously the catalyst behind the shift in his mood. The silence enveloping us right now was thick and uncomfortable, and I was irrationally disappointed by this. I was more than disappointed. I was reeling. For the first time in forever, I had been enjoying myself. I had loosened up, bantering back and forth without the fear of, well, backlash. And then he dragged the rug right out from beneath me. I hadn’t seen it coming and I was regretting ever coming out of that bathroom stall.

He obviously wasn’t keen on the CD Aoife had made him because I had swiped it from his bedroom last month during a random sister snoop-fest/spot-check and Joey had yet to discover it was missing.

“What’s the matter?” Reaching over, he turned down the volume on the stereo. “Shannon?” His attention flickered between the road and my face. “Are you okay?” “You’re going too fast,” I strangled out. “Relax, we’re going the limit,” he replied, but he slowed the car. “And I’m a good driver. You’re safe with me.” “Okay,” I muttered, still feeling like we were going way faster than a hundred kilometers an hour. “But I’d feel better if you slowed down.” Exhaling heavily, Johnny slowed even further. “Happy now?” he asked, tapping the dashboard. Leaning over, I checked the speedometer. Eighty kilometers. “Yes,” I breathed, my coiled-up muscles relaxing ever so slightly. “Thanks.” Sagging back in my seat, I allowed my gaze to drift over him. He was staring at the road ahead, one hand resting on the gear stick, the other elbow leaning against the door. As if he sensed me watching him, Johnny glanced sideways and caught me red-handed. I smiled weakly. He stared heatedly back at me, unsmiling. My smile faded. With a low, frustrated growl, he turned his attention back to the road. Shaking his head, he muttered something unintelligible under his breath, hand tightening around the wheel.

“Listen,” Johnny announced, breaking the silence when the lights of Ballylaggin town came into view. “What I told you back there? About my surgery?” His tone was level, polite even, as he stared straight ahead, maneuvering through the narrow streets and laneways. “I would appreciate your discretion.” Appreciate my discretion? He was embarrassed about having an injured groin? He should try having a useless father whose only talents were gambling his dole money and impregnating his mother, while whoring himself around to anyone stupid enough to have him. Frustrated, I turned to him and said, “Who would I tell, Johnny?” “Your friends,” he countered and then in a much quieter voice muttered, “My friends.” “Well, I’m not going to tell anyone,” I bit out, annoyed and insulted. “I’m not a motormouth.” He tightened his hand on the wheel but made no response. Irritated by the sudden formality in his voice, not to mention the fact that he had spent the past fifteen minutes ignoring me, I glared at the side of his face and growled, “Why would I bother telling anyone anyway?” “Because,” he bit out, keeping his attention to the road. “I know what most girls are like.” Most girls? If he considered me to be like most girls, then why spend all that time talking to me? Why ask me all those questions and make me feel comfortable enough to answer him if he considered me to be just like most girls? Why bother with me at all? “You’re being ridiculous,” I muttered. “I’m being careful,” Johnny c...

I didn’t respond because I couldn’t. I was concentrating too hard on not crying. “Shannon, I didn’t—” Johnny started to say but stopped short. He rubbed his jaw and then dropped his hand back on the wheel. “I don’t—” He stalled again, this time shaking his head. “Forget it.” I didn’t probe or push him to finish whatever he had been trying to say. I didn’t want to hear it. Retracting from the current source of my confusion and frustration—which was my designated driver—I focused all my efforts on ignoring him and keeping my emotions at bay. If I could jump out of the car right now, I would, but he was a fast driver and I didn’t fancy my chances of surviving the postjump impact. “What are you thinking?” Johnny finally said, making a left turn onto my estate. It was a deep hilly ascent to my house with several hundred attached houses running side by side on either side of the road, mine at the very top. Many of the houses were boarded up, others were dilapidated with untended gardens—my own included—but right now, I was too annoyed to care what he thought. I swung my gaze to glare at him. “You want to know what I’m thinking?” Johnny glanced sideways, eyes full of heat and barely contained frustration, and gave me a clipped nod before turning his attention back to the road. “Fine,” I snapped, blinking back the familiar sting of tears as I proceeded to tell him exactly what I was thinking. “I think you’re paranoid about people finding out you’re injured because you know you sho...

“I think this was a terrible mistake. I should have never accepted a lift from you. I think you overreacted tonight. I think you handled yourself terribly. And I think it would be best if you and I didn’t talk anymore.”

“Shannon, wait, don’t go—” “Bye, Johnny,”

I didn’t turn back when he rolled his window down and called my name three times. And I didn’t turn around when he pulled up at the footpath, choosing to slip through the alleyway instead, with my head down and the sting of bitter regret weighing heavily on my shoulders.

She walked away from me. I called her and she walked the fuck away. I wasn’t used to being dismissed or ignored, and that wasn’t me being a cocky shit. It was the truth. Touching her was a mistake. Doing it again was one I couldn’t afford to make. She was fifteen years old. The fuck was wrong with me?

I had learned a valuable lesson tonight though, and that was to never ask a girl what she was thinking if you weren’t prepared to take a huge fucking knock to the ego. “I think you’re in denial about your healing process and I know you’re hurt… I think you’re playing a dangerous game with your body… And I think if your doctors knew how much pain you are actually in, there’s no way they would have signed off and released you to play.” Her words were haunting me. Probably because she made a valid point. I fucking hated that she was right about my body. I was stubborn like that, which was why I got so defensive when she called me out on my bullshit.

Moments later, I felt a hand on my back as someone knelt down beside me and pulled my hair back from my face. “It’s okay.” Johnny’s voice filled my ears as he rubbed soothing circles over my spine with his big hand. “Shh, you’re okay.” Oh god, no. Why did he do that? Why did he follow me? He wasn’t supposed to talk to me. That was the plan. I dry heaved for a solid two minutes longer before my stomach finally settled, and all the while he knelt beside me, holding my hair out of my vomit and rubbing my back. “Are you okay?” Johnny asked when I was breathing again and not gawking. I nodded weakly and then felt his hand still on my back. I coiled tight on instinct. “What’s this?” I heard him ask moments before his fingertips grazed my neck, right above the collar of my school shirt. “Your neck is bruised.” Panic seized my heart as I felt him shift more of my hair aside and touch my neck again. “Shannon?” Johnny repeated. “How’d you get this?” “It’s old,” I croaked out, still gasping for air. “Doesn’t look old,” he replied, touching my neck. “Well, it is,” I strangled out, shaking off his touch. Thankfully, he complied and shifted away from me. Weak and mortified, I remained exactly where I was on my hands and knees, just staring at the floor as a wave of utter humiliation washed through me. “Shannon?” he said in a soft tone, hand on my back once more. “Are you okay?” Nodding weakly, I pulled back to a kneeling position, hands on my lap, gaze cast downward. “Wait here, okay?” ...

I needed to get out of here before I did something really stupid, like put her back in my car and take her home with me. Because a fucked-up glitch in my brain told me to do just that. Leaving her felt all wrong. Drive away, Johnny. Turn the car around and leave. She’s fine. She’s perfectly fine. Concentrate on the game, Kav. You have training. You do not need to be losing your head over a girl.

“Wait!” Shannon spun around and stared at me with wide eyes. “Huh?” What are you doing, Kav? What the fuck are you doing? “Come with me.” The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop myself or take them back. “Come where with you?” Shannon whispered, gaze flicking from me to the house down the street. I don’t know, Shannon. I don’t fucking know. I have no bleeding clue what’s happening to me. I just know that my gut is telling me not to leave you right now. “Anywhere?” I offered, and then cleared my throat before adding, “We could go for a drive? Or get something to eat?” Jesus, what was wrong with me? I saw something flash across her eyes then, something that looked an awful lot like relief. “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.”

If I could, I would climb on his lap and bury my face in his chest in this moment, but he was a virtual stranger to me and that would be socially frowned upon, so I settled for sidling up to him.

“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.

The blond in the BCS uniform across the lounge caught my eye again and smiled. I met her smile with a cold hard glare and reveled in a sick sort of pleasure when her smile slipped away and fear filled her eyes. Be fucking frightened, I thought to myself. You have no idea of who you’re messing with. 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. Dammit, I needed to get a handle on myself, but every time I tried, I just kept thinking about her file. Were these bitches the ones that cut off her ponytail? I had a bad feeling about the blond.

No wonder the blond was pissed, I thought to myself. The dark-haired git was clearly going out with her, and yet he was staring at Shannon like she was dinner. My dinner, prick, I wanted to roar.

“Can you settle up with the barmaid and go wait in the car for me?” Her face paled. “Why?” “I need to talk to one of my friends,” I lied, smiling down at her. “I’ll be right out.” She eyed me warily for a long moment before blowing out a breath. “Sure,” she finally said, sounding relieved. “I can do that.” “Thanks,” I replied.

“Now,” I sneered, glaring down at their faces. “Who wants to call my girlfriend a whore to my face?” I threw in the word girlfriend for maximum effect to align with the maximum damage I was about to cause.

“Is this your fella?” I asked, inclining my head to the dark-haired prick who was ogling Shannon less than five minutes ago, yet had turned conveniently quiet now. “Is he?” The blond’s face reddened and she nodded. “That’s good to know,” I mused, and then I reached over the table, fisted his school jumper, and slammed my fist into his face. “What the fuck are you doing?” the lad snarled, doubling over. “I’m playing by the rules, asshole,” I spat out as I dragged him out over the table and hit him again. Both girls started screaming and flailing around. One of his friends made to move toward me. “I fucking dare ya,” I snarled, as I continued to smack the shit out of his buddy. He took a safe step back and held his hands up. I rolled my eyes. Fucking coward. I’d lost count of the number of brawls Gibs had jumped into on my behalf down through the years, and vice versa. This prick needed to get better friends. “Stop!” the blond cried when I continued to slam my fist into her boyfriend’s face. “You’re hurting him!” “Oh, you realize that, do you?” I spat out. “So you are capable of knowing right from wrong?” “What’s your problem?” she cried. “We didn’t do anything to you!” “You sure as shit did something to her,” I snarled. “And when you fuck with her, you fuck with me.” The blond paled and I released her boyfriend. He sank down on the floor, cupping his face and groaning like a pussy. She moved straight to him. “Did you like that?” I asked, glaring at the prick whose face I ha...

I nodded and resisted the urge to lean across and kiss the shite out of those swollen lips.

I had to look away. I couldn’t risk another glance at her. Not tonight. Get your ass away from this girl before you do something stupid like lose your heart as well as your head, my brain hissed as I tore out of the car park, nerves shot to hell. Too late, asshole, my heart taunted.

“But I want to,” she added, smiling shyly at me. “I’d love to, actually—if you want to, that is?” Well, shit. Balls. What the hell was I supposed to do now? My mother was at home so that was out.

I tried not to think too much about Johnny’s actions, or the fact that he kept his hand on my back until we reached the counter. I mean, he was just being kind. After all, this boy seemed to be the pinnacle of good manners. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t. Not to him, at least. Still, I had a feeling that the memory of his hand on my back would be scored on my soul for eternity. His touch was different because it wasn’t unwelcome. The opposite.

“I’ll protect you, Shannon like the river.” He held my hand. Johnny Kavanagh actually put my hand in his. I didn’t know what to make of it. I begged my poor fickle heart to not read too much into his actions. To not get my hopes up. Hope was dangerous to a person like me. I couldn’t afford it.

“I’m a fair bit oversized.” No, he was perfect. God hadn’t made a single mistake with this particular boy. “It’s okay,” I hurried to say, folding my legs under myself to give him more space to stretch out. “I usually sit like this,” I added, my voice a small whisper as I gestured to my kneeling position. “My own personal booster seat.” “That’s hardly comfortable, Shannon.” “It’s okay.” His blue eyes locked on mine, and he shook his head. “Give me your legs.” “My wh-what?” I spluttered, breathing erratic. “Your legs,” he coaxed, patting his lap. “Seems only fair since I’m taking up all the legroom.” “You want me to put my legs on you?” “I want you to be comfortable.” “But what about your sore—” “I’m fine,” he replied, giving me an expectant look. “Uh, okay?” Blowing out a shaky breath, I gingerly shifted my legs onto his lap. “Is that good for you?” “Yeah, Shan.” Offering me a small smile, he reached for his bottle of water and took a swig. “You’re good for me.” “Huh?” “It,” he correctly gruffly, and then roughly cleared his throat. “It’s good for me.”

I was fairly sure I heard Johnny mutter the words dear god, no under his breath moments before several of his teammates came barreling toward us, disrupting everyone in their seats as they pushed through the crowds and settled in the seats in front of ours. “Well, if it isn’t I’m Too Busy to Go to the Cinema,” one of them scoffed, tossing a piece of popcorn at Johnny’s head. “You lying bastard. You weren’t too busy. You had other plans.” “Yeah,” another one snorted. “Other plans to get his dick—” “Finish that sentence and I’ll wring your bleeding neck, Pierce,” Johnny growled, tossing a handful of popcorn right back at them. “Now, turn around and fuck right off.” “Ah, don’t be cranky, Cap,” another one chuckled. “You could’ve told us you had a date with your little girlfriend.” “We would’ve understood.” “Jesus, we wouldn’t have blamed ya.” My face burned with heat, and I had to clasp my hands together to stop them from trembling at the thought. Date. Girlfriend. He didn’t deny it, Shannon. He’s not denying it. “Would ye mind yer own bleeding business,” Johnny snapped. “Jaysus, I can’t take a piss in this town without making headlines.” Oh god. “We can leave if you want to,” I gingerly leaned in close to whisper. If you’re embarrassed to be seen with me. “I won’t mind.” “What? No!” Turning to face me, Johnny shook his head. “No, Shannon, we’re not going anywhere.” Clearing his throat, he added, “I want to be here with you. It’s these other spanners I’m having a problem with...

Fucked. That was the only word in my vocabulary to define the way I was feeling right now. If I was to add another word to the sentiment, then it would be royally. Yeah, I was royally fucked. At one point, I made the near-fatal mistake of holding her hand. Why? Only God knew the answer to that particular conundrum. Apparently, I had issues. A lot of them. Issues that seemed to begin with the first name Shannon and end with the last name Lynch. Jesus. She was too close for comfort, sitting in the back row of the cinema with her face buried in the crook of my arm. Keeping my distance wasn’t exactly an option when she was all skittish and frightened. Yeah, it was safe to say that I screwed up with the choice of film. My pint-sized companion was not a fan of horror. At one point, I half expected Shannon to climb onto my lap. She certainly looked like she wanted to. If she did, I wouldn’t stop her. In fact, it was taking everything in me to keep my hands to myself and not pull her onto my lap. I didn’t care if it would hurt me. I didn’t care, period. Because I was vulnerable around this girl. Shannon Lynch utterly disarmed me. “Are you okay?” I whispered during a particularly gory scene, while Shannon did a fantastic job of burrowing a hole in my shirt with her nails. “Shan?” “All good,” she strangled out, fingers knotted in my clothes. “I’m totally fine.” She wasn’t. Far from it. But I was too selfish to push because I didn’t want to leave. No, I didn’t want her to leave.

“We should do it again sometime.” Fuck. My. Life. “I mean…” “It’s okay,” Shannon was quick to say, tone soothing, as she unfastened her seat belt and reached for the door. “I understand what you meant.” I seriously doubted it. I was having a hard time understanding my own thoughts lately. “You’ll, uh, you’ll be okay, yeah?” I called after her, feeling a dull ache in my chest as I watched her leave my car. Leave me. “You’ll be safe?” “Safe?” she whispered, blinking rapidly. “Safe,” I confirmed, unwilling to break eye contact or take back my words. I watched her watch me for the longest time, and I swear the pressure in my chest intensified to the point of pain. “I’ll be safe,” Shannon finally replied, chewing on her swollen lip. “I promise.”

Sean, who had spent the best part of the day screaming for Mam. It was a disaster.

“Jaysus, the hypocrite in you is ripe today, lad.”

“I’m probably just going to pass out in front of the telly for the night.” “You’re a fucking robot is what you are,” Gibsie retorted. “Well, not tonight.”

“You must be fucking amazing in bed,” Gibsie mused. “If she’s hunting you down like this.” “Not the point, Gibs,” I growled. “No means no, lad.” “You can change your number,” he offered. “What’s the point?” I grumbled. “She’ll just find a way to get my new one.” “I know I’m always saying it, but I really have to say it one more time, lad.” Slathering two slices of bread with butter, Gibsie layered on cheese, dumped half a dozen slices of meat on top, and then proceeded to fold his sandwich in half and stuff it in his mouth before continuing. “I do not know how you ever put your dick inside that girl.” “I lost my bleeding mind,” I bit out, focusing way too hard on spreading the butter evenly on my slice. “That’s how.” “You can say that again,” Gibsie shot back, making himself another sandwich. “You were blinded by big tits,” he added between huge mouthfuls of ham and cheese. “And posh pussy.”

“You need to get yourself a girlfriend, lad,” Gibsie declared. “It’s the only way you’re going to shake Bella off.” “I don’t want to get a girlfriend,” I bit out. “I am too fucking busy for a girlfriend, Gibsie. You know this.” “Even little Shannon?” he tossed out with a grin. My heart leaped in my chest at the sound of her name. Christ… “What did I tell you about her?” I snapped, tossing the remainder of my sandwich on my plate, appetite gone. “What in the bleeding hell have I been saying to you for the last two months?” “It’s not what you’re saying,” he replied with a snicker. “It’s how you’re acting.” “I am not going there,” I growled. “I’ve said it a hundred fucking times.” “And you can say it a hundred more,” Gibsie shot back with a laugh. “And I still won’t believe you.” Jesus Christ. “You like the girl,” he continued to taunt. “Maybe you even loooooooovv—” “If I agree to go to Biddies, will you stop talking about it?” I asked, desperate to stop him before he went into full-fledged Gibsie mode and drove me insane. “Will you let this drop?” My best friend nodded eagerly. “Absolutely.” “Fine.” I sighed in defeat and moved for the door. “I’ll grab a shower.” “Good man,” Gibsie called after me. “I’ll phone for a taxi for us.” I swung back to face him. “I can drive us—” “No, you can’t,” Gibsie interrupted, holding his phone to his ear. “We’re going on the lash. Both of us.” Shoulders sagging, I turned and made my way to my room. Fucking Gibsie.

Unsurprisingly—but still completely messed up—it was Shannon’s face that flittered through my mind as the lyrics forced their way into my sluggish brain. Shannon with the lonesome eyes. A lifetime of striving to be the best. The fear of not being good enough. And the constant, sinking feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach.

With my phone in my hands, I pondered what I would do if I had Shannon’s phone number. It was good that I didn’t have it. Never in my life had I been partial to drunk dialing, but right now I had a burning urge to dial her absent number. Would she pick up the phone? If she did, what would I say? Would she talk to me? Fuck, I wanted to hear her voice on the other side of that line. This girl is different, my stupid fucking brain chanted. This one is for keeps. I wanted to be back in my room, with my phone pressed to my ear, listening to her stumble over her words as she told me every one of her thoughts. I wanted to be back here with her, watching her blush and smile and peek up at me through those long thick lashes. I wanted to be sitting in that dark cinema with her, not paying an ounce of attention to the film showing, while I stole secret glances at her and burned in heat when I found her eyes on me. I just wanted her

You could love this girl your whole life, the crazy thought persisted inside my brain over and over, if you just let yourself.

Gibsie was looking at him, a murderous expression replacing his usual lopsided grin.

“I’m talking about you,” I shot back with a sneer. “And I’m wondering what the hell possessed me to ever put my dick inside something so fucking poisonous.” A chorus of snickering erupted around the table next to us. Gibsie laughed loudly. So did Hughie and Katie. I would have felt bad for the comment, but the alcohol flushing through my veins was like truth potion. “Yeah, well, you were total shit,” Bella screamed at me. “And I will never touch you again.” “Praise fucking Jesus,” I shot back sarcastically. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all year.” “Hey, don’t be like that!” Cormac warned, taking a protective stance in front of her. “Bella’s my girlfriend now, and I won’t have you talking to her like that.” I arched a brow. “Your girlfriend?” “That’s right,” Bella hissed, smirking. “I’m his girlfriend.” “Ah, Christ.” I rubbed a hand over my face and groaned. “I almost feel sorry for you, Ryan, because you clearly have no idea of who you’re dealing with.” “I know exactly who you are, Kavanagh,” he snarled. “I know all about you.” “Not me, asshole,” I growled. “Her!” Cormac glared at me, face turning bright red. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means keep an eye on your teammates, lad,” I shot back. “Because that one’s not girlfriend material.”

“I have no fucking problem stepping in on Kav’s behalf and kicking the ever-loving shit out of your turncoat ass.”

“You’re my best friend and this prick has been disrespecting you for months.” “Let him,” I replied calmly, catching Hughie’s eye and gesturing for him to get his arse over here pronto. “I don’t care, and neither do you.” “Oh, I care,” Gibsie snarled, eyes locked on Cormac. “Get this mental case away from me or I’ll kill him,” Cormac seethed, wiping a trail of blood from his mouth. “You’re a fucking lunatic, Gerard Gibson.” “You’ll do nothing,” I snarled, glaring at Cormac as I took a protective stance in front of Gibsie. Bella, who had been screaming her head off to the side, decided this was the perfect time to slip around me and get in Gibsie’s face. “You prick,” she screamed, slapping him across the face. “Don’t you dare touch him.” “Get out of his face,” I warned her, shoving my best friend behind me. “Now.” “Or what?” she hissed, slapping me across the face. “You’ll set your guard dog on me, too?” “Did you enjoy that?” I seethed, not even flinching. “Because that’s the only way you’ll put your hands on me again.” She reared back and slapped me again. I laughed into her face. “Go on. Go right ahead. Hit me all fucking night. It won’t change a thing.” “Stop,” Cormac commanded, pushing her behind his back. “Don’t hit him.” “He deserves it,” she screamed. “Because I don’t want you?” I tossed back and laughed. “Oh yeah, because that’s how life works.” “Don’t make me call the Gardaí on ye!” the older woman behind the bar screeched. “Pack of little gobshites.”