Saving 6 (Boys of Tommen, #3)

by Chloe Walsh

never knew devastation until he walked into my world and gave me a glimpse into his. I never knew demons until I stood beside him and watched him battle monsters more frightening than my imagination could ever concoct. I never knew heartbreak until he decimated my heart by decimating his body. I never knew hurt until he walked away from me. I never knew. I never…

“I don’t want fifty more girls,” I replied, twisting back to find her still watching me. “I just want that girl.”

“Hmm.” Her lips tipped up. “So, do you have a name, boy-who-can-think-for-himself?” “Does it matter?” I countered, needing to regain some ground I had lost to this powerhouse of a girl. “We both know that you’ll be calling me ‘baby’ by the end of the day.” She licked her lips to bury her smile. “Is that so?” I stepped closer. “You tell me, blondie.” Now she did smile, and it was a glorious sight. “Okay, that was seriously smooth.” I smirked. “Thanks.” “I’m Aoife.”

“Is that your way of telling me that you don’t have a boyfriend?” “No, it’s my way of telling you that I will have a boyfriend once you ask me.” “Jesus.” My heart rate sped up. “You’re not backwards about anything, are you?” She winked and slid her schoolbag off her shoulder. “Where’s the fun in that?” Thrown off-kilter by this girl, I took the bag she held out for me and slung it over my free shoulder. “There,” she said with an approving nod, admiring her bright-pink bag on my shoulder. “That should do it.” “Should do what?” “Warn the other girls away.” My brows rose up. “Did you just mark me with your bag?” “I sure did,”

“Dad,” she snapped, dutifully ignoring me now. “Can I have a spin or not?” “Not.” “What? Dad, I need to get home. I told you, I have a ton of homework.” “Sorry, love, but I have a Corolla that needs a full servicing before I close up. I’ll be here another few hours at least.” “Dad.” “Daughter.” “Father!” “Fruit of my loins.”

To say that I felt drawn to him would be a major understatement. I felt it that very first day of first year—that epic wave of familiarity, lust, and camaraderie—when our eyes locked, and I felt it now.

“We’re friends, Joe. I’m allowed to have friends over anytime I want.” “We’re not friends, Molloy. And stop snuggling me.” “Friends snuggle.” “Friends do not fucking snuggle.” “I snuggle with Casey all the time.” “Well, I can assure you that I have never snuggled with Podge.” “Then you can practice with me.”

“Listen here, Joey Lynch.” Sitting upright, she grabbed my chin and turned my face to look straight at her. “I saw you first. You’re my friend, not his. So stop worrying about my dad and start focusing on me.” “Technically, your dad saw me first—” “You’re mine, okay?” “I’m not yours, but whatever.” Huffing out a breath, I attempted to fold my arms across my chest, only for Molloy to loudly clear her throat expectantly. “I’m here like you want, I’m staying for the fucking film like you want, but I draw the line at snuggling.” “Snuggle me.” “No.” “Do it.” “It’s not happening, Molloy.” “Snuggle me, Joey.” “I said no.” “Snuggle me or I’ll scream.” “For fuck’s sake, fine,”

“But I’m your favorite, right?” With a teasing lilt to her voice, she said, “Your favorite friend?” “Yes, fine! Whatever. Christ,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes. “You’re my favorite friend, with my favorite legs.” “Well now, see, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” She laughed, reaching up to pat my cheek. “And just so you know, Joe…” She leaned in close and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “You’re my favorite friend, with my favorite everything.” Well, shit.

“Like I give a fuck about the minors,” I hissed, backing up toward the door. Raising the hand still clutching my hurley, I pointed it right at Ricey. “Next time you see me, you won’t have a roomful of people to protect you.” “I’m shaking.” “No need to shake, asshole. Just make your peace with God because I’m going to bury you.”

“You sure you don’t want to come?” “Yeah, Molloy, I’m sure.” “I want you to.” I want you, too… “Not interested.”

“You might think that you’re brave enough to take me on, to go toe-to-toe with me, but make no mistake about this.” Leaning in close, he pressed his lips to my ear and whispered, “You’re not the wolf in our story, Molloy.” His breath fanned my cheek, causing my pulse to skyrocket. “You’re the lamb.”

“You’re the sweet, innocent lamb that’s hell-bent on playing with fire,” he said, walking me backwards until my legs hit my bed. “So, you might want to stop hunting me, Molloy.” His hands moved to my hips, and he literally tossed me down on the mattress. “Because if you don’t?” With my wrists pinned to the mattress above my head, he stepped between my legs and leaned in close, so close that his nose brushed mine. “Then one of these days, I’m going to hunt you back.” Oh fuck. “You got that?” Releasing one wrist, he swiftly cupped my chin and forced me to look at him. “Friend?” “I’ve got it.” Breathless and feeling faint, I felt myself nodding. “Friend.” “Good girl.”

“I’m not afraid of loving a boy,” I told her honestly. “I’m afraid of losing myself in one.” “I hate to tell you this, but more often than not, the two go hand in hand.” “I know.” That’s what scares me.

“Why would you even ask that?” “Because you never look happy on the pitch,” I replied, readjusting my hold on my towel. Looking up at his face, I offered him a sad smile. “You never look happy anywhere.” “And you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” he was quick to counter, immediately on the defensive. “Watching everything I do like a fucking stalker.” “Lower the gun, Joe.” Knowing every one of his tricks, I kept my tone even when I said, “I’m not the enemy.” Joey glowered at me for a long moment before the hostility in his eyes eventually gave way to resignation. “I know.” Blinking, he released a harsh breath and shook his head. “I know, Molloy.”