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I frowned. “Bother with what?” “Liking him,” she replied. “Johnny doesn’t even look sideways at the girls in his own year, let alone girls in lowly third year.” “Actually, that’s not true,” Claire tossed back cattily. “He gave her a spin home from school.” She cast me a mischievous grin. “Twice.” Blushing, I made a mental note to never tell Claire a goddamn thing again. Both girls swung their gazes toward me. “You lucky bitch,” Shelly breathed, wide-eyed. “You were in his car?” Helen demanded.
“And she was in the papers with him,” Claire added. “Hughie showed me. All the lads were talking about it because Johnny never stands in pictures with girls.”
“Oh my fucking god!” Both girls gasped at the same time.
“Ah, because he’s Johnny Kavanagh.” Shelly rolled her eyes sarcastically. “And you were in his house. Any girl in her right mind would want to ride him.”
“Did you see his bedroom? What’s it like? Does he have a huge bed? I bet it’s huge. Is he driving you home from school again? Is that why he’s here? Oh my god, are you two a couple?”
“Actually,” Shelly chimed in, holding a finger up. “I heard some of the sixth-year girls in the bathroom the other day talking about Bella being with Cormac Ryan now.” Arching a brow, she added, “Apparently, she’s been shagging him for ages.” “While she was with Johnny?” Helen gasped. “Mm-hmm,” Shelly said. “Stupid girl, huh?” “Well, Cormac’s a good-looking guy,” Helen replied with a frown. “But he’s no Johnny Kavanagh.”
“Binding Thirteen,” Helen repeated, staring at me like I was clueless. In this instance, I was. “What does that even mean?” “The fifth- and sixth-year girls had this stupid competition going last year to see who could get with Johnny,” Claire grumbled. “They called it Operation Binding Thirteen because they’re completely sad and unoriginal.” She pulled a face before adding, “Apparently, Bella won.”
“Bella won’t be happy with competition,” Helen offered with a grimace. “Shan, you should stay away from him, because she’ll scratch your eyes right out.” “She’s a bitch,” Shelly agreed. “It doesn’t matter if they’re taking a break right now or not. She’ll go batshit on you.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Helen piped up, looking worried. “Bella can be a right bitch when she wants to be.” “Oh yeah?” Claire shot back, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Well, so can I.” “Wh-what?” I whispered, feeling like my stomach was about to fall out of my butt. “But I wasn’t… I’m not… I didn’t do anything—”
Jesus. Were Helen and Shelly right? Was Bella going to come after me? Because Johnny gave me a spin home? Oh god, my heart, my poor, frazzled heart was battering my rib cage. My stomach was rolling. I felt like I was going to be sick. No, rephrase that to I was going to be sick.
Don’t overreact and run, I silently commanded as my feet twitched beneath me. Just say hi.
It wasn’t an easy feat, what with my heart trying to burst its way out of my chest. That was another thing I needed to work on: controlling my body’s reaction around this boy.
He had gorgeous hair. He had a gorgeous smell, too. One I couldn’t stop myself from inhaling as he stood far too close to me for comfort. Lynx deodorant, freshly cut grass, and boy all rolled into one. Who was I kidding; he had a gorgeous everything.
Because your on-again, off-again girlfriend may or may not want to cause grievous bodily harm to me. Because the first time I got in a car with you, it ended badly. Because the second time I got in a car with you, I almost told you secrets. And mostly because the way you make me feel scares me.
“I’m not,” I lied. “I just… I just…”
When I failed to assist him—quite frankly I was too stunned to do anything other than gape at him—Johnny grabbed both ends of the jacket and zipped it up to my chin, leaving my hands trapped at my sides, the empty sleeves swaying beside me.
With one hand fisted in the front of the jacket I was wearing, Johnny quite literally held me hovering off the ground like my body was something obscenely miniscule and weightless. It wasn’t. I weighed six stone three pounds, but you wouldn’t have guessed it by the way he dangled me from one arm.
Red-faced and blushing, I latched onto his forearms, balancing on my one sheathed foot, and blurted out the only thing I could think of in this moment, “I don’t want to get beaten up.”
“You think I’d let anyone hurt you?” Johnny finally asked, his eyes dark and intense and focused solely on my face. “You think I’d let anything bad happen to you, Shannon like the river?”
“Ma, this is my, ah… This is Shannon,” he acknowledged, looking clearly uncomfortable. He cast a nervous glance at me and then turned back to his mother, clearing his throat twice before adding, “She’s my, uh… She’s new.” He shoved me further into the back seat of his mother’s SUV and then tossed both bags in alongside me. “I told her we’d drop her home.”
“Shannon, this is my ma,” he announced gruffly. “I’ll, ah, go and find your shoe.”
Well, this wasn’t awkward. This wasn’t awkward at all. Trying not to hyperventilate with burning discomfort was surprisingly difficult considering I was sure full-blown hypothermia was setting in.
was perished. I was beyond perished. My body was jolting violently as the dampness of my clothes continued to assault my skin.
Whoa, Johnny’s mother was beautiful. And extremely well dressed. Seriously, her clothes were like wow. Everything matched, from her earrings to her belt. Fashion designer, remember, my brain hissed. Of course she’s going to look good. With blond hair and brown eyes, Mrs. Kavanagh didn’t look much like her son, but he
Were we friends? I wasn’t sure. Maybe he was still trying to make amends.
When Mrs. Kavanagh spoke again, her brow was knit in concern. “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. “Yes,” his mother agreed, nodding eagerly. “His food intake, the training, the traveling, the sponsors, all of it…it’s scary.” She sighed again, brows creasing. “I just want him to let loose every once in a while. I know how that sounds coming from a mother, but he’s so controlled. Every part of his life is completely
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“Oh my god, no!” I squealed.
I sighed heavily. “With his balls.”
“Yeah, well, thank me by learning how to walk in them,” Johnny shot back in a teasing tone.
He sounded agitated—no, it was more than that. He sounded like he was in pain. Which he more than likely was. My memories of our conversation in his car floated into my mind in glorious colored detail. It’s not healing fast enough. It’s a fucking mess. My leg’s not the problem. Just forget I told you any of that.
Say no, Shannon. Tell her that you do mind. If he finds out, he’ll kill you. You know this is wrong. This boy is not safe for you…
Oh god. Oh lord. Oh sweet merciful baby Jesus… Breathe, Shannon, just breathe… I remained quiet, watching Johnny and his mother interact and speaking only when I was asked a direct question. It was awkward, uncomfortable, and I was achingly aware of his presence the entire time, my body on high alert. For what, I had no clue. But every time I was in close proximity with him, I found it hard to breathe.
Concentrating on my breathing, I tried not to focus on how beautiful his home was and how inferior I felt to be, once again, about to enter it.
“I am so fucking sorry about this,” Johnny announced, distracting me from my inner turmoil. He twisted around in his seat to face me. “I have no bleeding clue what she was thinking.”
Inhaling a deep, steadying breath, I climbed out of the car and stared up at his face, feeling very small and very lost. I needed him to take the lead here. This was unfamiliar territory for me. I didn’t know how to approach this.
There was no Joey or Gibsie to distract me. It was just Johnny and me. And his mother. Oh god…
There was something very wrong with me. Running around for twenty minutes in the pouring rain for a shoe was a good indication that this girl was making me lose my mind.
Thank Christ she came back to school today, because I had plans on driving over there this evening if she hadn’t. Every minute of every day since the day her brother took her away from me had been plagued with concern.
I only knew that something inside of me demanded I protect her. I had no goddamn clue what that something was or why I was feeling it, but it was so strong I could practically taste it.
I physically put her into the back of my mother’s Range Rover, too aggravated and flustered by my feelings to take a step back and listen.
The worst part was knowing that if my mother hadn’t shown up when she had, there was a very big chance I would’ve kissed her. I wanted to. Badly. And that was beyond terrifying.
She was mine and I didn’t want to share.
How was I supposed to handle this? How was I supposed to handle her?
Johnny Kavanagh was holding my hand. He was holding my hand and taking me upstairs. Again. To his bedroom. Again. Where he slept. On his bed. Probably with very little clothes on. Oh god…
This entire house and the boy holding my hand reeked of money. Lots and lots of money.
Johnny pushed the door inward and walked us into his room, still holding my hand, still making my heart leap around violently.
Pussy Pleasure XXX. “Fuck,” Johnny muttered when he noticed where I was looking. He hurried over and tossed the porno behind the TV. “That’s, ah…” Breaking off, he exhaled a heavy sigh and scrubbed his face with his hand. “Sorry about that. I don’t bring girls up here.” He frowned for a moment before adding, “Except you.”
Being here delayed going home to another night of drama. And being here with Johnny was a good kind of terrifying. I wanted to be here with him. I wanted him, period.
“Whoa, you’ve met a lot of famous people,” I whispered, my gaze flicking from photo to photo of Johnny with a range of different celebrities and athletes. “Which one of these guys is your hero?”
Breathe, Shannon, just breathe…
