Keeping 13 (Boys of Tommen, #2)

by Chloe Walsh

“You’re a brain box,” I teased. “Do you know that?” “I am,” he agreed. “It’s like whoa in my head all the time.” “That’s because you’re so smart,” I reassured him. “You’re always thinking.” “Hmm.” “What’s the hmm about?” “I’m not smart with you,” he slurred. “It goes away when I’m with you.” “Is that bad?” “It’s so fucking good,” he groaned. “I just… Fuck, I need to stop talking.” “No, keep talking,” I coaxed, curious. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“I’ll call you every day,” I vowed as I stood in the middle of Dublin airport with my flight number being called over the intercom. “And I’ll send you a million texts.” “But it won’t be the same.” “I know, but we’ll make it work,” I promised. “How?” “We’ll figure it out, okay? But I need you to stop crying,” I begged. “Please.” “I can’t help it. My heart is breaking here.” “I’ll be home soon,” I coaxed. “It won’t be forever.” “No—no! Just no. You can’t leave me, Johnny!” “I have to go,” I groaned. “Come on, don’t make this harder than it has to be.” “You promise this isn’t a forever goodbye?” “I promise,” I urged, patting his back. “Now, come on, Gibs. You’re cutting off my air supply here.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually crying.” I laughed, and then quickly sobered my features when that only made him cry harder. “It’s six weeks, lad.” “They’re going to snap you up,” he sniffled, wiping his eyes. “And I’ll lose my best friend.” “You couldn’t lose me if you wanted to, ya big eejit,” I grumbled, pulling him back in for a hug.

“I love you,” she whispered, fingers digging into my neck as she pulled my face down to hers and kissed my lips. “A crazy fucking amount.” “I love you, too—” My voice cracked and I exhaled a strangled breath before adding, “Most in the world.” Cupping her face in my hands, I just stared at her, locking away the image of her face in my mind and then coming close to losing it when I thought about how long it would be until I saw her again. “I’m coming home,” I told her.

“Now, I’m keeping 13,” she told me. “So come home to me when you’re done, okay?” “I will.”

enough of my bullshit, how’s your summer going? Is Gibsie okay? Has Joey been in touch yet? Is Sean saying any new words? What about Aoife? Any sign of her? How’s my Sook? Those boys better not be drawing on her. Do you have a tan? Are you smiling? Christ, I miss you…

I know you kicked ass. Fuck, I love you. Did I write that down yet? Fuck it, if I haven’t then here it is again. I love you Shannon Lynch. All of you. Every part.

“Aw, man, he sends you presents every day.” “Not every day, Ollie,” I mumbled, blushing. “You’ve had two packages a week since he left.” Ollie groaned. “It’s been six weeks. That makes twelve packages. I’ve had one.” “Because he’s my boyfriend,” I defended, even though I was grinning in delight. “Now back up so I can open it.”

“God, get over this fascination with John, will ya?” Tadhg muttered. “You’re like a stalker.” “Like you and Dellie?” Ollie countered. “You love her.” “Yeah, I do,” Tadhg shot back, unblinking. “A lot.” “Yeah, me too.” Ollie sighed happily. “She’s the best.” “That food,” Tadhg added wistfully. “So much food.”

“I missed you, too, lad.” I chuckled, delighted to be back in his Focus, gripping the oh-Jesus bar and silently praying for him not to kill us both with his deranged driving. “And your Toblerone is in my suitcase.” “Toblerones,” he corrected, narrowly avoiding an old lady crossing the road. “Plural. Don’t even think about giving Hughie and Feely my stash.” Swerving back on to his side of the road, Gibsie glanced in the rearview mirror and sighed. “Oh, thank god, she’s still standing. For a minute there, I thought I clipped her with my wing mirror.” “Maybe you should pull over and let me drive,”

“Ah, Jaysus, Shan, you really need to stop saying these words to me.” He groaned, hips flexing beneath me. “If you don’t, we’re never going to make it to dinner.” “And my baby’s on a feeding schedule,” I cooed teasingly, pressing one last kiss to his lips before pulling back to grin at his flushed expression. “Don’t worry, Mister Rugby, I would never keep you from dinner.” Grinning, I added, “After all, your stomach has been complaining since we left the house.” He offered me a wolfish grin in response. “They do serve a fucking fantastic chicken, Shan.” “Uh-huh.” Rolling my eyes, I climbed off his lap and laughed. “You and your chicken.”

Memories of yesterday filled my mind and I smiled to myself, thinking about Johnny and Gibsie as they jumped around like a pair of lunatics to the Saw Doctors “N17.” With their arms wrapped around each other, they had chanted the words back to the band and leaped around like two crazed idiots. It was hilarious. They had both been extremely drunk and enjoying each other’s company, uncaring of what they looked like in the moment, as they belly bashed one another and tried to outjump the other. “N17” had rolled into “Joyce Country Céilí Band” and then “I Useta Lover,” and they had danced along together, singing the words to each other like an old married couple.

“Ooh, you have gummy bears?” Claire asked, rummaging around in our bags. “Wow, I thought you didn’t eat junk food, Johnny.” “I don’t,” Johnny yawned. Rolling onto his side, he draped an arm around me. “They’re for Shan.” “Aww,” she swooned. “You’re so considerate.” “Could you be—and leave?” Johnny muttered under his breath. “Don’t be cranky,” I scolded, pinching his nipple. “Do it again,” he purred. “Lower.”

Feeling incredibly free, I threw my arms up in the air and laughed. “Shannon!” Claire laugh-screamed my name and I reached out to grab her hand, laughing as all four of us screamed out the words of the song. Cameras were flashing all around us, but for once I didn’t care. We were young and free and together.