Binding 13 (Boys of Tommen, #1)

by Chloe Walsh

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

A shouter was much better than a crier.

Debatable

I should have learned by now that being a pushover didn’t do me any favors, and not fighting back wasn’t an option, either.

the problem was, every time I was faced with a confrontation or crisis, my body—and my mind—always reacted with the same broken instinct: freeze.

I closed the space between us, grabbed his head, and buried my head in the bridge of his nose. An extremely satisfying crunching noise filled my ears.

The minute my eyes landed on her, I knew I was in trouble.

She walked away from me. I called her and she walked the fuck away.

I was a dog lover. I trusted them. There was something about the way a dog looked at you; they didn’t care if you were a famous rugby player or a homeless person on the streets.

She just always made it a point to let me know that she cared about the rest of me first and most.

Awwww

“What happened?” he demanded, glaring down at me. “Who the fuck made you cry?”

“Give me a name,” Johnny growled, dropping his hands to his hips. “And I’ll take care of it.”

That’s right; I was actually fucking dreaming about the girl now.

“Is it normal to be mad at a person because they love you?” my brother asked, eyeing the envelopes with confusion. He turned his green eyes on me and asked, “Is this normal?”

“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.”

“Johnny’s jersey number is thirteen,”

“Your mam thought I was your…that we were…that you got me…with your pregnant balls… Ugh—”

Lololol

“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.”

No, Ma, my dick led me astray when puberty kicked in…

“If I had a penis or liked girls, I would want you.” “Thanks,” I half sobbed, half laughed. “If I had a penis or liked girls, I’d want you, too.”

“You drive her home multiple times, you take her out to the pub, to the cinema, you bring her home to your house—twice—and then she kisses you, and you reject her,” he shot back. “What did you expect her to do? Sit there and listen to it?”

“You want to keep her, period,” Gibsie countered. “Because you are ass over tit in love with that girl.”

I wanted to make her better. I wanted to make it right. In whatever way she needed me to do it. I just didn’t know how. Whatever she needed from me, I was more than willing to provide.

Problem was, every time she ran, I found myself chasing right after her, desperate to just be with her.

“Well, thanks for saving me,” she whispered. Her eyes darted from my eyes to my mouth several times before she leaned over and pressed her lips to my cheek. “Again.”

“I love to read but I’m not academically smart.”

Learning more about her fed the beast—and distracted the other beast.

“Can I get you something?” she quickly asked. “What would you like to eat?” You. I would like to eat you, Shannon.

Having him in my space like that, even just for a little while, was wonderful. It was personal. And I felt safe. Like nothing could touch me when he was close.

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 are a Jackeen,” he argued. I rolled my eyes. “And you are a smelly fucking culchie from the back ass of nowhere.” “Fuck you, city boy.” “Fuck you right back, country boy.” “Capital Dick.” “Rebel Wankstain.”

“You’re a lost cause to that girl.” Grinning, he added, “Better get your cock and balls in working order, lad. No girl wants a broken dick.”

“I’m going to kill that bitch,” Lizzie hissed later that day during lunch.

Lol

Johnny had a pinched expression when he said, “A Maroon 5 song.” “Oh?” I looked up at him. “Which one?” He shifted in discomfort. “‘She Will Be Loved.’”

“Binding is when your front row connects with the opposition’s front row,” Johnny explained. “Like smashing together?” I asked. “Connecting by force?” “It’s a little more complicated and technical than that, but yeah,”

“Why do you do it?” “I love it,” he replied simply. “Everything about it. The shape of the ball. The physicality of the game. The adrenaline rush. The pressure. The rewards. Pushing myself. I fucking love the game.”

“Whatever you’re used to,” he continued to say, eyes locked on mine. “Or whoever you’re used to. Whatever’s responsible for that sad look in your eyes—” He paused to brush his thumb over my cheekbone. “That’s not me, I’m not like that, and I won’t do that to you.”

“But I’m going to find out,” he whispered. “Whether you tell me or not.” He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “I’ll find out and I’ll make them suffer.”

“Words, Shannon,” he pushed, tone gruff. “I need the words.” “What do you want me to say?” I croaked out. “Tell me why you trust me.” “Because when I’m with you, I feel…” “You feel?” “Safe, okay?” I strangled out. “When you’re around, I feel safe.”

“You. Are. Safe,” he stated,

These were love songs. These were all love songs. Saved to a playlist with my name on it.

I wanted to fight all her battles. I wanted to give her all her smiles and make her laugh and snatch her away from the rest of the world and keep her all to myself.

“You’re weak. Your body’s not healing. And you almost dick-capitated yourself!”

“You’re fucking perfect,” he assured me, filling my mouth with his hot tongue.

“Is my dick still there?” “It’s still there.” Dad chuckled softly. “And my balls?” “Also there,” he mused. “All in working order.”

“You’re sure my dick’s still there?” I kicked my feet, but they weren’t being cooperative. “I really like my dick, Da. I’ll cry if it’s gone.”

“I can pull my dick again?” “Yes, Johnny.” he laughed. “In a few weeks, you can pull it to your heart’s content.”

“She makes my heart go, like, whoa.”

“I’m gonna sail my boat down her river,” I snickered. “My dick boat.”

“It’s okay, Ma,” I coaxed. “I’m gonna keep her, too. Make all my babies with her because my balls work—and Da says I can pull on my dick again. Woo!”

“And I’m gonna buy her a ring…and a dog…and sail a boat…