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“Completely fucking accurate assessment.”
I wanted Shannon Lynch. And worse than wanting her, I really fucking liked her.
And promises like that to girls like me were worth everything.
“According to my father, I’m nothing but a dirty whore.”
“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.”
I felt like I was slowly dying in that house. In my home. Where I was supposed to lay my head. Where I was supposed to feel safe.
“Fuck my life!”
“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?”
“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.”
“No, not really.” I chewed on my lip before adding, “But I understand fear, which makes it easier for me to understand why you would feel the need to play through the pain.”
A busted lip I knew in my heart had been provided by Johnny.
The goal was always the same. Play for my country. And be the best.
My problem was simple. I couldn’t move right. My body was falling apart. And my head was stuck on a girl.
My body I could do nothing about, but my head? I needed to get my head in the game. Problem was, I left it with Shannon Lynch.
so fucking bowled over, I could do nothing but stand there, gaping like an eejit at the pint-sized girl pulling on every single one of my strings.
But then I was hit with the stinging pang of bitter regret in my chest when she brushed past me in the hallway without a second glance, her coconut-scented shampoo hitting my senses like a wrecking ball, and I knew that wasn’t going to work for me. There was nothing forgettable about the girl,
I couldn’t concentrate on a damn thing, and it was all her fault.
immediately regretted texting him that four-page rant about mind-fucking girls last night.
“Yeah, lad,” I replied with a nod. “I really fucking do.”
Especially when the person ignoring me was the very same one who was tormenting my every waking thought—my dreams, too.
was freaking the fuck out inside, worrying myself half to death over the summer campaign, and it was a girl I barely knew, with soul-deep eyes, that I wanted to confide in. Because something told me I could. Because somewhere deep down inside of me, I felt like she knew me. Like she could save me? Jesus, I was losing my bleeding mind…
She was absolutely right. I was showing emotion. Because I cared. I cared a great deal more about a girl I barely knew than I ever did Bella.
Because I made the call. Because I was afraid he would hurt her.
I didn’t need him touching me. I was already too affected by him.
“It’s okay.” Johnny’s voice filled my ears as he rubbed soothing circles over my spine with his big hand. “Shh, you’re okay.” Oh god, no. Why did he do that? Why did he follow me? He wasn’t supposed to talk to me. That was the plan.
“I’m taking you home now,” he said as he slid my schoolbag off my shoulders and slung it over his left shoulder. My eyes widened. “No, no, you don’t have—” “I’m taking you home,” he repeated, blue eyes locked on mine. “Let’s go.”
With wide eyes, I watched as Johnny unzipped the black coat he was wearing and draped it over my shoulders. “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.”
“What are you scared of, Shannon?” I surprised myself by how calm I sounded when I was two seconds away from losing my shit right here in this car. “Did something happen?” “Happen?” she whispered, biting on her bottom lip. “At school?” I nodded slowly. “Was someone giving you hassle?” She closed her eyes and bit down even harder on her lip, so hard that I reached over and pulled it free from her teeth. “Don’t,” I coaxed. Her eyes popped open. “Huh?” “You’ll hurt yourself,” I told her, retracting my hand even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You don’t
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“Come with me.” The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop myself or take them back.
I don’t know, Shannon. I don’t fucking know. I have no bleeding clue what’s happening to me. I just know that my gut is telling me not to leave you right now.
When he opened that passenger door of his car and offered me a temporary escape from the hell that was my home, I took it.
“What?” Panic flashed across his face. “Fuck, no! It was a joke.” He leaned forward in his seat. “I didn’t mean… I wasn’t calling you fat… You’re the tiniest thing I’ve ever… Shite, you’re so small I could—”
Everything about Johnny Kavanagh was pure perfection.
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.
I was upset, too, trying to mask my fury but close to killing someone. Genuinely. Truly. Abso-fucking-lutely. Shannon was petrified of these girls. Her body was shaking. Shaking.
thought shit through. Not when it comes to this girl…
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?”
“That’s good to know,” I mused, and then I reached over the table, fisted his school jumper, and slammed my fist into his face.
“I’m playing by the rules, asshole,” I spat out as I dragged him out over the table and hit him again. Both girls started screaming and flailing around. One of his friends made to move toward me. “I fucking dare ya,” I snarled, as I continued to smack the shit out of his buddy.
“You sure as shit did something to her,” I snarled. “And when you fuck with her, you fuck with me.”
“No,” I seethed. “And my girl”—I pointed to the lounge door—“didn’t do anything to your girl but that didn’t stop her from terrorizing her.” I glared at the blond. “From cutting her hair and beating the shit out her!”
Call it childish, but I couldn’t stop myself from stalking back to their table and tossing it on its side. Feeling ridiculously satisfied when their drinks all spilled and smashed to the floor, I spun on my heels and stalked out.
Her eyes burned holes in me so deep that I had to look away before completely losing myself in the girl. It was too much. She was too fucking much.
I nodded and resisted the urge to lean across and kiss the shite out of those swollen lips. “I am absolutely sure.”
He held my hand. Johnny Kavanagh actually put my hand in his.
“Yeah, Shan.” Offering me a small smile, he reached for his bottle of water and took a swig. “You’re good for me.” “Huh?” “It,” he correctly gruffly, and then roughly cleared his throat. “It’s good for me.”
“I want to be here with you. It’s these other spanners I’m having a problem with.”
Fucked. That was the only word in my vocabulary to define the way I was feeling right now.
Yeah, I was royally fucked.

