Binding 13 (Boys of Tommen, #1)

by Chloe Walsh

I once read somewhere that we mature with damage, not with age.

I would promise all the fucking promises in the world just to make this girl feel better.

Shannon Lynch had eyes the color of midnight blue that wouldn’t stay the fuck out of my head.

“Keep looking out for her, Cap,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “God knows someone needs to.”

The move was so primal, so decidedly male, that it hit me straight in the chest.

“Jaysus, I bench twice what you weigh in the gym.”

Nodding, I turned to leave, feeling thoroughly deflated, only to have a warm hand wrap around my wrist and pull me back to his side.

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

No, he was perfect. God hadn’t made a single mistake with this particular boy.

My body froze. The weighted pain and fearful anticipation settled down on my shoulders like an old friend’s hand. That’s how familiar I was with the feeling of fear.

“I’m going to hug you,” Johnny whispered in my ear. “Tell me if that’s not okay.”

“You never know,” he said with a smirk. “I might take you with me so you can cheer me on in the stands.”

“Someone touched you,” Johnny whispered in my ear, placing his fingers on the marks. “I want to know who.”

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

“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.”

He smirked. “No, baby, I don’t mind.”

“Hi, Johnny.” “Boom, boom, fucking boom, Da,” I groaned, slapping a hand against my chest. “I’m done for.”