Binding 13 (Boys of Tommen, #1)

by Chloe Walsh

I once read somewhere that we mature with damage, not with age. If that’s the case, I was an old-age pensioner in the emotional stakes.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Shan,” Joey said in a voice that was thick with emotion. “You don’t even realize how brave you are.”

“I’m Johnny,” I told her, biting back a smirk. “Who are you?” “Shannon,” she whispered.

“Like the river,” she added with a small sigh.

Gibsie grinned widely, clearly goading me, when he teased, “Keep that talk up and I’m going to start thinking you’re going soft for the girl.”

A girl, a fucking female I’d known for no longer than two hours, had managed to do what no one else ever had: knock me off-kilter. Shannon like the river was on my mind, and I didn’t fucking like it.

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

“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?”

“What the hell is that?” Claire hissed excitedly, gripping my hand. “Johnny Kavanagh is staring at you, Shan. Like seriously, girl, that boy is staring at you!”

I hated humans. They were such a disappointment. And to think God switched dinosaurs for man.

“Don’t you ever get tired of it, Mam?” I asked, voice breaking. Blinking back my tears, I choked out, “Don’t you ever get sick to death of pretending?”

I needed to get my head in the game. Problem was, I left it with Shannon Lynch.

“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.”

God, he was just so beautiful, it was painful. Everything about Johnny Kavanagh was pure perfection. He was big and strong, and his face? Oh god, his face was the best face I had ever laid eyes on.

“I’ll protect you, Shannon like the river.” He held my hand. Johnny Kavanagh actually put my hand in his.

Shannon Lynch utterly disarmed me.

This girl is different, my stupid fucking brain chanted. This one is for keeps.

“Johnny here has a fierce soft spot for your sister.” “Is that right?” Joey replied tightly. Oh fuck.

“How’s my food coming along, chef?” “Faster than a whore at a brothel, good sir,” Gibsie called back over his shoulder. “Egg?”

“Listen, Kavanagh,” he finally said. “If you want to know what goes on inside of that head of hers, then be worth it.” “Be worth it?” I frowned at his words. “Be worth what?” “You’re a smart guy,” he shot back. “You’ll figure it out.”

His mother was a fashion designer, for god’s sake. Mine was a cleaner. His father was a barrister. Mine spent plenty of time in court, too—on the other side of the law. His house reeked of money and luxury. Mine reeked of whiskey and pain.

He kept it. In his room. Under his bed. My heart leaped against my chest. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s a nice picture. That’s all. Don’t read into this.

“It’s okay or you’re okay?” I chewed on my lip and thought about it for a moment before saying, “It’s okay and I will be okay.”

“What do you want me to do, Shannon?” Johnny strangled out. “Tell me what to do here.” “Hold me,” I sobbed, burying my face in his neck. “Don’t let go.”

“Don’t forget about me when you’re a rich and famous rugby player.” “You never know,” he said with a smirk. “I might take you with me so you can cheer me on in the stands.”

She was lovely. Fucking lovely.

I was completely fucking clueless, armed and ready to go to war for a girl I didn’t know, against an enemy no one would tell me about.

“I like her.” “Okaaay,” he drawled. “Tell me what the problem is.” “That’s my problem,” I bit out. “I like her, Gibs. I think I really like her, man. Like really as in a lot. A lot more than fucking like. Christ!” He shrugged a shoulder. “Still not seeing the problem here, lad.”

“So, what are you asking me to do here, Johnny?” he asked, smirking. “Are you saying you want me to cockblock you?” “I’m saying that if you see me bulldozing over any lines, pull me back,” I bit out.

“Fine, lad, I’ll help you,” Gibsie replied with a sigh. “Even though it’ll never work, you’re doomed to fail, and I’ll more than likely end up giving the best man speech at your wedding at some ridiculously young age because you’ll have bulldozed the shit out of things, for now, I will absolutely help you bury your head in the sand.”

“We’re just—” “Friends?” Mrs. Kavanagh quipped, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “So I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, we’re just friends.” “Ah, that’s a shame,” she replied after a long pause. “For a moment there, I thought you had managed to do the impossible.” “The impossible?” “Distract him from rugby.”

“I love my son with all my heart, but sometimes, I wish he would remember to be seventeen and let go a little. Have fun. Fall in love. Break the rules. Be a teenager instead of a—” “Machine?” I offered quietly.

Worse again was the fact my meddling mother had fucked me over and brought Shannon to the house. Left her purse at home, my arse. The woman had a credit card in her back pocket at all times. She did this on purpose.

“That girl is fragile, Johnny.” Mam nibbled on her lip, brows furrowed in concern. “There is something about her that makes me want to wrap my arms around her and cuddle the sadness out of her eyes.”

“Sex is a beautiful thing, love,” Mam said in that motherly tone that currently made me want to stab pencils in my ears. “When it’s between two people who love and are committed to each other.” I held up a hand. “We are just friends.” “Uh-huh,” Mam quipped with a disbelieving smile. “That’s what they all say.”

“Because I’m not blind, Jonathan,” Mam replied, full-naming me to let me know how serious she was about this. “I see the way you look at Shannon and the way she looks at you.” “We are just friends,” I bit out. “You’re in love.”

“You meddler,” I accused. “You sexer,” Mam shot back in a tone as equally accusing.

For a long time, I just stood there in the middle of his bathroom, listening to absolutely nothing. No screaming voices. No stomping footsteps. No rattling door handles. No feelings of impending doom. Just peace.

“Or maybe it was those Legos again.” My heart sank. “Was it?” Johnny demanded.

“I can help you,” he pleaded. “Let me help you.”

Because my being here was temporary and that girl reeked of permanence.

“So, we’re really not going to hate him?” “No,” I replied. “We’re really not.”

“You should,” Shannon continued to say. “Listen to it, I mean.” Her cheeks turned pink when she said, “It reminds me of you.”

“Here—” Reaching into the glove compartment, I pulled out a leather case and quickly flicked through a bunch of mix CDs, stopping when I found the one I wanted, “Listen to track nine.” I practically shoved the CD into her hand and shrugged. “Reminds me of you.”

I needed to be really fucking careful with my next move, because once I decided that she was the girl for me, that would be that. Once I committed myself, once my heart laid claim on her, I might as well slap a label on my forehead stating, I’m yours. Please be gentle with me because I’m here to stay.

“You bulldozed again.” I turned to glare at him. “I did not.” “Yeah, lad, you did,” he chuckled. “I tried to stop you, after your ‘Save me, Gibsie, please save me from myself’ spiel the other week, and you went right ahead and bulldozed in like a freight train.”

“But just so you know?” he added. “She’s always been your Shannon.”

“Well,” Lizzie piped up. “You just earned some major brownie points in my eyes.” She patted my arm. “And trust me, I don’t give those out often.”

“What am I going to do, Gibs?” “About Shannon?” I nodded glumly. “Give in,” he answered without hesitation. “I can’t,” I croaked out. “You can,” he assured me. “You’re just scared.”