Binding 13 (Boys of Tommen, #1)

by Chloe Walsh

“Relax,” Johnny whispered in my ear, distracting me from my memories. “You’re safe with me.” His words threw me and I turned my face to look at him. 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. “Why wouldn’t I be safe?” It was a defensive question asked out of desperation because this boy was throwing me like no one had before. I couldn’t figure any of this out, and my poor heart was working in overdrive to keep up with the feelings bombarding my body because of his close proximity. Fear, uncertainty, lust, and panic were all kicking my ass. “I’m just letting you know that you are,” he replied, blue eyes locked on mine. “Okay?” Exhaling a ragged breath, I nodded and shifted closer to him. 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.

“Can we go now?” I whispered, heart beating rapidly as I resisted the urge to burrow into his side. “Please?” “We’ll go when we’re ready to go,” he said in a voice so low and soft that it was barely audible. “Put your head up, Shannon like the river.” Moments later, he draped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me in to his side. “No one’s going to hurt you.” Relieved, I moved closer, too close for strangers to sit, but I didn’t care. He was big and strong and I got the distinct feeling that he was telling me the truth. I believed him when he told me I was safe with him. “Those girls?” he asked, tilting his face down to look at me as he spoke. “What’s the story?” “There’s no story,” I croaked out, clutching my bottle with a death grip. “Why do I find that hard to believe?” I shrugged and ducked my chin, letting my hair fall forward, wishing I had Harry Potter’s invisibility cloak draped around my body so I could escape this situation without more pain. I couldn’t take anymore. “Look at me.” I didn’t. “Look at me,” he repeated, tone calm and coaxing. I couldn’t. I felt him shift beside me and then his fingers were on my chin, tipping my face up to his. “You’re safe,” he whispered, cupping my cheek in his hand, eyes boring holes straight through my soul. “I promise.” That word. God.

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.

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. Another issue I was having that was going to make me lose my fucking mind was the way these pricks were eyeing her up. Longingly. They needed to avert their bleeding eyes from this girl because I couldn’t handle it. They didn’t need to be looking in her direction. Ever. I had my arm around her, for Christ’s sake. Take a bleeding hint. 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.

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

“If she or any of her whore friends even look at my girlfriend again, I’m coming for you.”

“Uh, here’s your stuff,” she said, gently placing my keys and wallet on my left thigh. My good thigh, I realized. Shit, this girl was too much. “You can count it here if you want,” Shannon added. “Your wallet, I mean.” She tucked another strand of hair behind her ear. “I won’t be insulted.” The fuck? I stared at her. “What?” Shannon blushed. “Well, I just… I thought you might—” “I trust you,” I told her. “I’m not counting anything. It never even crossed my mind, okay?” “Are you sure?” she whispered, killing me with those big eyes. I nodded and resisted the urge to lean across and kiss the shite out of those swollen lips. “I am absolutely sure.” The smile that lit up her face then was so striking that it made my heart race recklessly. I just stared at her for the longest moment, wondering how the hell I got here, and how the hell I was going to get out.

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.

of protective.” Understandable. If I was in their shoes, I would be protective of her, too, given what Shannon had been through at her old school. Hell, I was protective now. “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. Forcing myself to concentrate on the road in front of me and not the girl sitting beside me, I flicked on my indicator and pulled onto the slip road for the city. “Cinema, it is,” I replied in as breezy a tone as I could muster while on the inside I was burning the hell up.

years. “All we have left is Boogeyman.” “Fine. We’ll take it.” “So, you want two tickets to see Boogeyman, and the couple’s combo,” the girl stated, gaze flicking from him to me, expression incredulous. “With her.” Heat flooded my cheeks and I had to force myself not to shy away. I wasn’t unaccustomed to cruel jibes at the hands of other females. I just didn’t want this particular boy to witness it. “Yeah.” Looking entirely unimpressed, Johnny withdrew a fifty euro note from his wallet and tossed it down on the counter. “With her.” “We only have a couples double seat left.” “That’s fine.” “Together.” “Yeah, I know what it means.” “In the back row.” “Again, that’s fine.” “And what am I supposed to tell my friend?” “You can tell your friend whatever the bleeding hell you want.” “Does she need a booster seat?” “Keep pushing, Kelly,” came Johnny’s hot response. “I fucking dare ya.”

“I’m, ah…” Shrugging sheepishly, he shook his head and grinned. “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.”

“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.” I want to be here with you. Whoa. It was at that exact second the lights dimmed out, cloaking us in darkness for a brief moment before the screen lit up. “Okay,” I breathed, exhaling slowly. “If you’re sure.” Johnny kicked the back of his friend’s chair before turning his attention back to me. “I’m sure.”

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.

taken. If he thought I was going to throw my career away for a punch-up over Bella, he was seriously mistaken. Shannon—absolutely, but Bella? Not a chance. “Put your fists away, ya bleeding

“Keep your girlfriend away from mine and we’ll be rosy.” “You don’t have a girlfriend,” he replied slowly, expression laced with confusion. “Me,” I corrected, flustered at the word spill. “Keep her away from me and we won’t have a problem.”

“And Bella?” Cormac asked after a long pause. “Are you going to cause problems with her?” “Because you’re with her? No,” I told him. “If she fucks with Shannon? Absolutely.” “Shannon?” “Yes, Shannon,” I bit out, tone harsh now. Cormac stared blankly. “Who’s Shannon?” “Shannon is the reason you’re going to end up with a broken jaw.” “The hell?” “Bella was threatening to go after her,” I snarled. “If that happens, I will fuck you up.” He blanched. “Why me?” “Can’t hit a girl, which means I’ll be coming for the next best thing,” I explained. “So, bear in mind that every single time your Bella decides to make a threat, spread a nasty rumor, or fuck with my Shannon, I’ll return the favor on your face. Every single goddamn time.”

“Thanks again for the lift.” “No bother,” Joey replied. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to his girlfriend’s lips before fastening his seat belt. “Where are we heading?” Straight to your house because I wanna fuck your sister, I thought to myself. I smirked at the fabulous notion, and then hunted the crazy thought away with a shake of my head. Probably love her, too, I mused to myself, a fucking lot, before pushing that madness out as well. Cop yourself on, asshole!

That was the scary thing about this situation. Sitting in his car, drunk off my ass, knowing that I was more than capable of beating the shite out of him, but knowing I wouldn’t. Because of her. Because he was important to her. Because if I hit him, I would hurt her. And hurting her was bad. Hurting her made me want to hurt something harder.

“Ciara Maloney’s boyfriend,” Joey filled in, giving me an odd look. “Some fella from Tommen beat the shit out of him in town yesterday.” “Oh?” I arched a brow and folded my arms across my chest. “Is that so?” Joey smirked. “Yeah, it is.” “Well, I hope he fucked him up,” I slurred, feeling my body thrum with anger at the memory of those nasty fucking girls. “Heard his girlfriend’s a bitch.” “I heard he was in a bad way,” Joey replied. “Broken nose. A few stitches.” “How awful,” I drawled.

“It smells like a brewery in here.” “I know,” Joey replied as he started the engine and pulled away from the curb. “You can blame your friends from Tommen for that.” “My friends?” I shook my head and stared at his side profile. “What are you talking about?” “Johnny Kavanagh,” Joey stated. “We ended up dropping him home from the pub last night.” “Oh.” Wait. What? “You dropped Johnny home?” I hated the way my voice was all loud and pitchy. “When…? How…? Why?” “Last night when we were picking up our takeaway,” Joey explained as he pulled out of the estate and onto the main road. “He was thrown down against a wall outside the chipper in town. He was in a bad way.” “He was?” Oh god. Concern filled my chest. “What was wrong with him?” “He was drunk off his tits,” Joey grumbled. “His friend was worse.” “His friend?” I asked, careful to mask the emotion in my voice. “His…girlfriend?” “Nah, some big blond fucker,” Joey corrected and I mentally sagged in relief. “I think his name was Gussie or Gillie or something like that.” “Gibsie,” I confirmed quietly, thinking about how those two were joined at the hip at school. “That’s the one.” Joey nodded, then released a low chuckle. “Bloody eejit threw himself on top of the car, demanding I give him back his center.” Laughing, he added, “He looked serious, too. Like he genuinely thought I was kidnapping Kavanagh.” My brows furrowed. “Why did Gibsie call Johnny his center?” “Johnny’s position is outside center in rugby,” he explained. “He’s...

“Did I ever tell you about the time your girl saved me from Brian?” Gibsie asked while he cracked an egg over the pan, distracting me from my thoughts. “Brian?” I questioned, thinking about Mrs. Gibson’s evil bastard of a cat. “Shannon saved you from Brian?” “She sure did,” he mused. Grabbing a spatula off the rack, he swung it around in his hand as he spoke. “I love how you don’t even deny she’s yours anymore, lad.”

Frowning, Johnny reached over and cupped—yes, literally cupped—my chin in his hand. “What the fuck is that?” he demanded, voice deathly quiet, as his blue eyes blazed with fire.

“You stink,” both Gibsie and Joey said in unison. “Fuck off the pair of you and leave her alone,” Johnny piped up, sounding aggravated. “She doesn’t smell bad at all.”

“If she’s being bullied or some shit like that, then I can help. I can fix this if you tell me.” His brows rose. “You can fix this?” “For her?” I nodded determinedly. “Absolutely.” “You like her.” He arched another brow at me and tilted his head to one side. “Maybe even more than like her.” I didn’t bother denying it. Not to him. This wasn’t Gibsie, or one of the lads at school trying to get a rise out of me. This was her brother. I knew better than to spew bullshit in this moment.

I couldn’t stop crying and I wasn’t sure if it was the fear of facing my father pushing me over the edge, or my mother’s miscarriage, or the emotions building up inside of me because of this boy whose arms I was currently in. Unable to get a handle on myself, and desperately seeking the comfort and safety that oozed from him in waves, I did something incredibly reckless. I crawled onto his lap. Johnny’s entire frame tensed, and his hands fell away from my body, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. With my knees on either side of his thighs, I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his neck. “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.” “Okay.” One of his large hands cupped the back of my head and the other moved to my back as he held me to his chest, slowly rocking me on his lap. “I won’t,” he whispered, folding me up in his arms. Trembling, I clung to his body and prayed for him to be my strength in this moment because I couldn’t do this anymore.

“I’m going to be there one day,” Johnny stated, tilting his head in the direction of the telly. “One of these days that’s going to be me, Shannon.” “I know,” I replied, believing every word. Biting down on my lip, I turned to face him and said, “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.”

When Johnny stretched his legs out on top of the coffee table, I waited for a good ten minutes before attempting to do the same, only to fail epically when my toes barely touched the corner before clattering to the floor. Chuckling softly, Johnny reached forward and dragged the table closer to the couch. Embarrassed, I kept my feet firmly on the floor. Less than a minute later, Johnny reached over, lifted my legs, and placed them on the table. I turned to look at him, but his attention was back on the screen. Every once in a while, Johnny would pause the match to put some coal or blocks in the fire before settling back down on the couch. After the third time he did it, I pulled the cushion out of his way when he sat back down and held it to my chest. By the end of the match, our shoulders were touching. I didn’t move away. He was big and solid and warm and I liked the feel of him beside me. A little while later, when my eyes began to droop, he lifted his arm, and I didn’t even flinch when it came down around my shoulder. Instead, I nestled my cheek against his side and closed my eyes, allowing myself to drift off to sleep without an ounce of fear in my heart because it couldn’t exist inside of me, not when this boy had his arm around me.

“Shh,” I whispered when she whimpered in her sleep. I didn’t even try to stop myself from stroking her hair. I was beyond help when it came to her. I was beyond fucking stopping. Everything inside of me was shifting, honing in on this tiny girl. Nuzzling her cheek against my thigh, Shannon nestled closer, curling up in the smallest ball I’d ever seen a person her age contort their body into. Like the obsessive freak I was, I allowed my gaze to land on her bruised cheekbone for the millionth time tonight. I knew I shouldn’t look at it. It made my body thrum with rage. And still, I couldn’t stop myself. I stared at the mark on her face until I was sufficiently filled with enough anger to take down an entire village, and then I turned my attention to the bruises on her thighs.

She looked right through all the bullshit. Seeing me. Seeing only me. And that made me want to move some shit around and place her slap-bang in the middle of my world. I knew I needed to get a fucking handle on myself. Except I couldn’t. Because she was addictive. And I was obsessed.

“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!”

“It would never work,” I finally said, tone weary. “I would end up leaving, they would write a ton of shit in the papers and online like they always do while I’m gone, she would get paranoid, I would get pissed, she would end up getting hurt, and we would both end up completely fucking miserable.” “Whoa,” Gibsie breathed. “You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?” Every minute of the day since I first laid eyes on her. I nodded glumly.

“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.”

When I was with him, I forgot about lying and hiding. I forgot about everything.

Mr. Mulcahy was tapping the clipboard in his hand, deep in conversation with Johnny—whose attention was flickering between whatever was on that clipboard and, well, me. I was exactly opposite him, with the court between us, but I swear I could feel the heat of his stare right down to my toes. Every time he switched his attention from the clipboard to me, I was hit with a gaze so heated and full of intensity that I couldn’t figure out what I was seeing.

He was, by far, the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen in the flesh.

“Look, don’t even bother, Shan.” 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. I shrugged, feeling very exposed in this moment, but didn’t reply. “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.” “He’s never in the papers with girls,” Helen accused. “When did this happen?” “Before she went out to dinner with him at Biddies,” Claire offered with a huge grin. “And the cinema. Oh, and after she spent her birthday at his house.” “Oh my fucking god!” Both girls gasped at the same time.

If I had a safe place to fall, I would hurl myself toward it. That’s what Aoife was to my brother.

Johnny glanced down at my feet and then behind me. Releasing a heavy sigh, he hooked an arm around my waist, pulled me to his side, hoisted me clean off the ground, and walked us over to the SUV. He yanked the back door open with one hand and deposited me in the back seat with the other before jogging back to the footpath to retrieve our discarded bags. “I’m soaking wet,” I warned, feeling embarrassed at the thought of ruining the expensive upholstery of the car. “Seriously, Johnny,” I added with a shiver when he returned to the door with our bags. “I’m soaked right through my clothes.” His lips twitched for the briefest moment, and then he shook his head as if waving off an unwelcome thought that had come to him. “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.” “Hello, Shannon,” his mother said, turning in her seat to flash me a megawatt smile. “Shannon, this is my ma,” he announced gruffly. “I’ll, ah, go and find your shoe.”

“I’d say it’s time to batten down the hatches and get the rubber dinghies out, girls. The weather’s gone to shite.” “Says the genius running around in a storm for the last half a bleeding hour,” his mother quipped. “We’re on the orange alert for flooding, you know. Fourth one in a month.” “You know I’m no quitter, Ma,” Johnny shot back, holding up my shoe in triumph. Twisting in his seat to face me, he arched a brow and said, “Tip for next time we do this?” His tone was serious but his eyes danced with mischief as water dripped from his rain-flattened hair onto his forehead. “Keep your shoes on your feet.” Winking, he tossed my shoe onto my lap before turning back around and reaching for his safety belt. “Sorry,” I mumbled, red-faced. Picking the slimy shoe off my lap, I reluctantly slipped my foot inside, shuddering at the squelching sensation. “Thanks for saving my shoe.” “Yeah, well, thank me by learning how to walk in them,” Johnny shot back in a teasing tone. I blushed beet red. “Um, yeah, okay.”

“I’m sorry,” I squeezed out, clasping my hands together anxiously. “Your mam thought I was your…that we were…that you got me…with your pregnant balls… Ugh—” Clearing my throat, I whispered, “I’m sorry.” Johnny turned back to face me and smirked. “My pregnant balls?” “No, my pregnant and your balls,” I spluttered and then cringed at my words. “Never mind.”

She had her arms wrapped protectively around herself, with her long brown hair drenched from the rain and sticking in wet clumps to her face, and in my whole life, I’d never seen anything so beautiful. Jesus. How was I supposed to handle this? How was I supposed to handle her?

“Give me that fucking controller,” Johnny growled and then pounced on me. “The power’s going to your head.” “No!” I scream-laughed, twisting onto my side to protect the controller. “I’m not finished… Ahhhh!” “Give it to me,” Johnny said, laughing as he tried to slip his hand under my arm. “Never,” I declared through fits of laughter. “It’s mine… Stop, please… Ahhhh, I’m ticklish—” “Now, Shannon, love, I’m so sorry about that. My work call took longer than expected.” Mrs. Kavanagh announced as she pottered into Johnny’s room without knocking, causing me to spring out of the beanbag and Johnny to groan in despair.

“Ma, can you just go?” Johnny bit out. “Now? We were in the middle of something here.” She gave him a hard stare. “In the middle of what?” I waved the controller at her. “I beat him at PlayStation.” “No,” Johnny corrected. “She didn’t beat me at anything…” He paused to glare at me. “You haven’t won yet.” And then he turned back to his mother and added, “She just pushed the bar out.” “To space,” I mumbled under my breath. “I heard that,” he shot back, smirking. Mrs. Kavanagh looked between us and then beamed. “He’s a terrible loser, isn’t he?” “I am fucking not!” “I know.” I giggled.

“Why are you meddling in my life?” “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.”

“Tell me who put their hands on you,” he coaxed as he stood behind me, my face in his hand and his fingers on my throat. “And I’ll make it better.”

“I can’t be alone with you like this,” he whispered, eyes locked on mine. “I…” He exhaled a ragged breath. “Not here…not when you look like that.” His eyes were heated and full of uncertainty and roaming wildly over my body. His chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace, mirroring my own. I looked into his eyes, feeling my heart squeeze so tight it was hard to breathe. In one stare, I felt like I had collided with him. It was instant and shocking. My feelings exploded inside of me, absorbing the boy and all he was like a sponge that was desperate for water. I was desperate for him. All of him. Every piece and part.

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

“You need to know that I’m not going to be here for much longer.” “I know,” I whispered, feeling the burning ache in my chest. “And I know I shouldn’t have kissed you,” I choked out, voice torn. “Okay? I know that. It was wrong. I understand. I just…I just…” “You just what, Shannon?” he coaxed. “I thought you liked me,” I strangled out. “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.” “I’m sixteen,” I whispered. “I know, Shannon, fuck I know,” he groaned, voice torn. “But I’m trying to do the right thing here.” My heart fluttered uncertainly. I didn’t know what to think or how to feel. He was rejecting me and telling me he liked me at the same time, and it was too much for my heart to take. “For who?” I croaked out. “For the both of us,” Johnny strangled out. “My career is taking off and I need to stay focused. And you deserve someone who can put you first.” He ran a hand through his hair again, looking both stressed and tired. “I can’t do that.” He looked me right in the eyes and said, “I want to—I really fucking want to. But I’m not in the position to do that for you.”

“So, have you figured out how you’re going to manage forty-eight hours in close quarters with Gerard?” I asked with a teasing lilt to my tone, thankful for the distraction from my life. Claire groaned loudly. “He drives me crazy, Shan.” “He likes you,” I told her. “And before you shut me down and tell me he likes everyone, I mean he really likes you, Claire. It’s obvious when you guys are together that he’s into you.” It really was. At school, they watched each other’s moves constantly. He was always coming over to her, cracking jokes and making pointless conversation. They behaved like an old married couple when they were together, with witty banter and quick retorts, and I couldn’t figure out why they weren’t a couple already. It seemed so inevitable. “Having him carry on like that toward me is not a compliment,” Claire grumbled when I called her out on it. Huffing, she added, “Any girl who walks past that boy turns his head.” “Yeah, but you haven’t just turned his head, Claire,” I told her. “I think you’ve turned his heart.”