Binding 13 (Boys of Tommen, #1)

by Chloe Walsh

Turning back to Ronan, I hissed, “I’m going to give you a five-second head start, prickface, and then I’m going to cut your cock off and feed it to you.” “Fuck you, Kavanagh,” McGarry spat out. “You can’t touch me.”

“I’m sorry,” he roared over his shoulder as he pounded through the courtyard. “Stop—I’m sorry! I won’t go near her again.” “Too little too late, asshole,”

“Come here, ya little shit,”

“Even if I hadn’t, your accent is a dead giveaway.”

“Christ, I’m six foot three.” He shook his head. “You’re so small.”

“Hell fucking yes, I’m being serious,”

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.”

was something alright,” Johnny replied, laughing along with me. “A bleeding eejit.”

He gave me a wolfish grin. “Original Boy Scout right here.” “Were you in the Boy Scouts?” “Like fuck I was,” Johnny shot back, laughing harder now. “I was messing.” His eyes danced with amusement. “Why? Were you in the Brownies?”

“Jaysus, you’ve grown another foot.” I cocked a brow. “In three weeks?” Mam returned my sarcasm with a scowl. “Don’t be smart.” “I’m always smart.” I pressed

“You should have snapped a pic,” he added thoughtfully. “Oh, wait—you did. What’s the story with you being in the papers with him? The old man practically rammed it in my face.”

“So?” My tone was defensive. “Why would I care? I don’t even like rugby!” “Calm your tits, Shannon,” Joey huffed. “I was only trying to give you some brotherly advice.” “Well, it’s not necessary,” I grumbled, face burning. “And for your information, he’s actually not that great,” I decided to throw out there in a disdainful tone.

“What—like in the groin?” “Yeah.” I nodded. “What happens?” “Depends on the severity of the tear,” Joey replied without hesitation. “But he’d be sore as fuck for a while. If it was bad, he’d probably need physio and rehab.”

“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.”

“What happened?” he demanded, glaring down at me. “Who the fuck made you cry?” “What?” I breathed, shaking my head. “I’m not crying.” “Your eyes are red and swollen,” he deadpanned. “You’ve been crying.” His eyes moved to my cheek. “The fuck happened to your face?” “What?”

“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. To assholes and bullshit,” Johnny snarled. “Now, tell me who made you cry and I’ll fix it.”

“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...

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

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

“You’re King Clit?” “Oh, yeah,” Gibsie snickered.

“Ginger Pubes,” he replied like it was the most obvious thing ever. It wasn’t. “He’s blond,” I growled. “His girlfriend isn’t.” “Jesus Christ,”

“Someone touched you,” Johnny whispered in my ear, placing his fingers on the marks. “I want to know who.”

Releasing an unsteady breath, I reached up, grabbed Johnny’s neck, and pulled his face down to mine. And then I kissed him.

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny groaned, dropping his head in his hands. “Of course, I like you.” He tugged on his hair and sighed. “I think it’s pretty fucking clear that I’m mad about you.” Exhaling a pained groan, he added, “But I’ll be eighteen in May, Shannon.”

Oh God. Oh, sweet baby Jesus.

was kissing Johnny Kavanagh. Johnny Kavanagh was kissing me back. He had his tongue in my mouth, his hand in my hair, and my heart in his pocket.

love you. I am so in love with you. Please be okay.

“Coach can kiss my lily-white ass,”

“Hi, Johnny.” “Boom, boom, fucking boom, Da,” I groaned, slapping a hand against my chest. “I’m done for.”