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“No,” he strangled out, shaking from head to toe as he physically strained his body away from me. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Because you’re not him.”
was so much more. This kiss was real, and raw, and gritty, and so full of unspoken emotion that I felt my legs shake from the pressure.
Her scent, so fresh and addictive, invaded my lungs, taking me down harder than a punch from my old man ever could. It’s this scent you remember, my brain quickly recognized, and this hair.
Excitement and fear thrummed through my body as I allowed myself to feel something other than hopelessness. I enjoyed the sensation of being inside of my own body, my own head, for once without needing to self-medicate first. Dangerous fucking lips, I warned myself. Don’t get your hopes up.
“I’m not shaking because I’m cold,” she growled, wrapping her legs around my waist. “I’m shaking because you’re making me horny, so stop talking and keep kissing me.” “Jesus,” I muttered, finding her blunt-to-the-point-of-outspoken nature even more of a turn-on than usual. “Maybe you’re the dangerous one.”
“Like what you see?” “What?” She grinned shamelessly. “I always check the product before I make any purchases.” “And?” She blew out a shaky breath and nodded. “Oh, I’ve been sold on you for a long time now, Joey Lynch.”
Tread carefully, the beating muscle in my chest commanded, because if you let her in, if you let yourself fall for this girl, you’ll never recover.
Forget that shit, she’s already in. Keep her.
once Joey Lynch is done ruining you, not even the nuns will have you.”
“I see you, Joey Lynch,” she continued, stroking her nose against mine. “Yeah,” I replied in a gruff tone. “I see you too, Molloy.” “No.” Shaking her head, she shifted closer, pressing her body flush against mine. “I mean that I see you.”
“If you really saw me, the real me, you’d be running by now.”
I could feel how much Molloy cared. It was emanating from her lips, and that made me want to do better, be better, straighten my shit out and be the fella she deserved.
“The quintessential lost boy.” Her lips grazed mine as she spoke. “Don’t worry, Peter Pan, I’ll be your Wendy.”
I let her control me, gave her the power to hurt me worse than my family ever could.
she clung to me like I hung the goddamn moon.
“I’m just thinking.” His gaze flicked to mine. “Sounds dangerous.” You’re dangerous.
“Yeah,” I squeezed out as the image of Joey’s head between my legs filled my mind. “My honor’s restored.”
“D-don’t, Joe,” Shannon cried out, chasing after me. “I’m n-not w-worth getting h-hurt over.” “You are worth it,” I roared back, shoving the front door open. “Of course you’re fucking worth it, Shannon. You’re worth a thousand of that piece of shit, and don’t you ever let him make you feel anything less!”
“That’s yer man, isn’t it? The lad from that fancy rugby academy,” Podge offered, inclining his head to where a tall, dark-haired lad about our age was leaning against the bar, deep in conversation with the owner of Biddies. “What’s his name again?”
“Johnny Kavanagh,”
“I’m thinking of finding myself a bad boy to walk me home later. I hear they hit the spot just right.” “He’ll hit more than just the right spot if he gets you alone in the dark,” I told her in a low warninsg tone. “It’s a dangerous move. You should have your daddy come get you.” “Dangerous sounds like just what I’m looking for,”
“I’m broken in the head. I don’t work right. I get hooked. I get so fucking addicted, and if we keep this up I won’t let go. I won’t be able to.”
When we were together, it wasn’t because I was out of my mind and trying to float away in the moment. Being with her made me want to keep a clear head because I wanted to remember her.
I wanted to be in the moment with her and not just float through it. Because she was Molloy. My friend. Maybe even my best friend.
“The door’s always open.” “Yeah, I know.” That’s the problem.
“I would never regret you, Joe,” I said, sitting up so that our chests were touching. “I couldn’t. Not ever. I care too much.” “I know.” His eyes burned with heat. “And I know that I’m not good with the words you need to hear from me.” “I know,” I whispered, understanding. “It’s okay.” “But don’t ever think that I don’t have feelings,” he said, and then pressed a kiss to my mouth. “Because the only time that
I allow myself to feel anything is when I’m with you.”
So I guess it’s true what they say about the boys from my terrace.” Casey blew out an impressed breath. “They fuck like they fight: all in and with one hundred percent effort.”
“Enjoy becoming his mam, Aoife. I doubt you’ll make it to sixth-year graduation without a baby Joey in your belly.”
“You can either come or you can kill me,” he warned, prying my thighs open. “You can’t do both.” “The first one,” I quickly replied, breathless. “I can do the second one later.” Joey chuckled. “That’s my girl.” Jesus.
“O-wee,” Sean recited slowly, frowning up at me for a long moment. “O-wee dada.” “No,” Ollie corrected, growing irritated. “Stop saying that, Sean.” “Dada.” “No, Sean, stop!”
“Calm down, Ols.” I sighed wearily, sliding my phone back in my pocket. “It doesn’t matter.” “But it’s weird, Joe.” Tell me about it.
“Hold up.” Springing up in the bed, I gaped down at the five-letter word inked on his chest. “What the hell is that?” “What?” “That.” I poked at the skin covering his heart. Aoife was written in italic script across the left side of his chest.
“You dragged me in there last night, demanding to be tramp stamped.” “I did?” “Yeah, you did.” “Well, it looks like you’re the one with the tramp stamp, bitch,” I cackled, slapping my palm down on his tender chest. “Hard luck.” “That’s what you think,” he grunted, shrugging me off and then draping an arm over his face. “Check your ass.”
“You’re mine now,” he mimicked my voice. “Hard luck.”
“Oh my god,” I screamed, eyes glued to the red inked heart on the right cheek of my ass with the name Joey in black ink inside it. “Your name is on my ass!” “Like I said,” he shot back with a yawn. “Looks like you’re my bitch.”
“I’m not your boyfriend, Molloy.” “Oh yeah, I forgot,” she shot back with a grin. “You’re my bitch.”
I slipped my hand into his back pocket, my favorite place to touch him.
“I’m not your boyfriend, Molloy,” he was quick to deny. “I’m just your—” “Yes, you are, ya big eejit,” I snapped, irritated now. “It’s been seven months. You’re my boyfriend, I’m your girlfriend, and we love each other a lot.”
but I was the one with everything on the line here. My ability to provide for my family. My ability to procreate with a functional pair of balls. Yeah, I had a feeling both were at stake today.
“Joey!” Tony barked, and I quickly clamped my mouth shut. “I only have two questions for you.”
“First.” He eyed me carefully and asked, “Do you love my daughter?”
“Entirely.” And then I heard myself say, “For about five years now.”
“Second,” he said slowly. “Do you see a future with her?” “No,” I replied, hating my admission but needing to give him the truth, because if anyone deserved my honesty it was this man. “I don’t see a future for us, but that’s not because I don’t want one with her. It’s because I don’t see a future for myself, period.”
“You’re a grand lad, Joey,” Tony added, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “A lad I would be happy to see look after my Aoife.”
“I remember looking at this small scrap of a lad standing in the garage, down on his luck and with the weight of the world on his shoulders. That small boy asked me for a chance that day,” he added, voice thick with emotion. “I took a chance on that boy, and I’m glad that I did because the man that small boy turned into is a man who I am damn proud of.”
I loathed the fact that he had been thrust into playing the role of both mother and father to his siblings because his shitty parents wouldn’t do their job.
I didn’t know what to do, how to help him, or how to exist in his complicated world. His parents made me feel homicidal. His siblings made me feel helpless. His friends at school made me feel uncomfortable. And his friends from the terrace made me feel entirely unwelcome.
