Taming 7 (Boys of Tommen, #5)

by Chloe Walsh

“Definitely,” she agreed. “And then it gets deeper because you start to crave their words as much as their kisses.”

“We can be queens.” “Or presidents.” “Rulers.” “Yes, joint rulers of all things autumn.”

Johnny’s family had taken Shannon and her brothers in when their parents died in a house fire earlier this year. A fire that had been purposefully set by their abusive, alcoholic father.

Crazy how the entire plot og keeping 13 can be put into 1 sentence when it was actually 800 paged

“With Lizzie,” I pushed. “Was she mean to you?” “When isn’t she mean, Claire?” he replied flatly. Oh god, she was mean. “You know she doesn’t mean it, right?” I tried to sway. “It’s her coping mechanism.” “I don’t need anyone to explain Lizzie Young’s coping mechanisms to me,” came his hard response. “I’m well versed in them.”

Ih god

“Don’t you dare,” I squealed, as I scampered to the side and narrowly avoided his playful onslaught. “Gerard Gibson, I’m warning you—ahhh!” “What’s that, lover? You fancy a moonlight stroll on the beach?” Throwing me over his shoulder, Gerard proceeded to run down the beach. “Anything for you, my sweetheart.”

“Why can’t you take being touched there?” “Because I have the worst tickles known to mankind on my hole.” “Tickles.” I arched a brow. “On your ass?” “Yep. So bad.” He nodded eagerly. “I lose total control of my limbs. Seriously. Try it and I’m like a ninja with a black belt.” “And how do you know you have a tickly ass?” “Do you really want to know the answer to that question.”

In the Summertime’ by Mungo Jerry.”

“Please don’t let go.” “Never,” he vowed. “Not in a million years.”

Shits, Giggles, and Shaking Tents

Nothing ljke a Chloe Walsh chapter title

“What’s that saying for the word ‘fine,’ babe?” “Fucked up, insecure, neurotic and emotional.”

“That’s the one,” Gerard replied, grinning. “You, my friend, are all of that and more.” “We can’t all be poster boys for Prozac, Gibs.” “He doesn’t take Prozac anymore,” I was quick to defend.

Too far

“Yeah,” Katie agreed with a smile. “You two have been joined at the hip this summer.” “This summer?” Hugh snorted. “Try every summer since 1989.” “Damn straight,”

“Ew, don’t even say it like that, Gerard,” I added. “‘Getting his hole.’” I grimaced in disgust. “What a horrible reference to the physical act of love.” “Wow,” Hugh deadpanned. “What a horrible reference to sex.” “What?” I asked. “Physical act of love?” “Ugh.” He shuddered. “That’s so wrong, Claire.” “Why?” Katie laughed. “It’s what they’re doing, isn’t it?” “To be honest, babe, I don’t want to think about what Cap is doing.” “I prefer getting his hole,” Gerard declared. “Me too,” both Hugh and Patrick agreed. “Absolutely not,” Katie argued. “That’s so crude.” “I have it,” Gerard announced, holding a hand up. “They are fucking with feelings!” “Fucking with feelings.”

Thats so funny

“Fucking with feelings,” he said proudly. “It’s centrifugal motion.” “Now, where in the name of Jesus did you hear that word?” Patrick asked. “I know words,” Gerard huffed, tone defensive. “Says the fella who tried to convince the whole of fourth class that tyrant was a breed of dinosaur.”

“Could have happened to anyone.” “Funny how the things that could happen to anyone usually only happen to you, Gibs.”

Sometimes, I wished he wasn’t the one my heart had attached its flag to because he felt so far away, so unattainable, but then when we were together, everything fell into place, and all of my doubts evaporated. It was a dangerous thing to love a boy the way I loved Gerard. But I couldn’t go back in time and pinpoint the moment it happened; therefore, I was resigned to loving him. They say it’s hard to get over your first love. Well, if I knew it to be true, like my heart was so insistent, I would never be getting over Gerard Gibson.

We had so much fun when we were together, but when we were with our friends, he was Gibsie. When he was with me, he was Gerard. I liked to think of them as two different people. Two very different boys. I loved them both with every fiber of my being. Sometimes I wished I didn’t feel the way I did, but you can’t change the heart’s direction once it sets sight on its destination. And my heart’s destination was hell-bent toward melding with his. Toward entwining with his and never breaking free again.

I just wanted to be with him, follow him everywhere, and never let go of the feelings he evoked inside of me. In fact, if I could bottle them up and take a little sniff...

I laughed, climbing in beside him, while desperately trying to avert my eyes from his impressive biceps. Because Gerard had the best arms. They were delicious.

I took the time to study every inch of him, securing this moment in time to memory because I didn’t want to ever forget this summer. Or this boy. He was big and broad and strong, with the most beautiful sun-kissed skin. Seriously, it was as if the sun came down from the sky and illuminated this boy in the most wondrous hue of bronze. His already blond hair was bleached from the sun, making him look almost surfer dude-ish—like the boys I watched on Home and Away every evening on RTÉ2.

His brown nipples were pierced and adorned with itty-bitty silver hoops, and he had a tattoo on his left rib cage with the word Resilience in italic font that was decorated with a feather in black, and then a tiny Care Bear on his right hipbone.

“I love you, Gerard.” “I love you, too.”

Johnny might be taller and ripped to within an inch of his life, and Hugh and Patrick might resemble Josh Hartnett and Ryan Phillippe with finely cut, washboard abs, but I swear I’d never seen anything quite like Gerard Gibson.

Aye

Honestly, I knew I might be biased, but Johnny Kavanagh’s impressive eight-pack or Patrick Feely’s adorable smile didn’t hold a flame to this boy. Not in my eyes, at least. Because this boy had always been my favorite boy. My favorite friend, person, human, everything.

Crying

He always made me feel like I was his first priority. His number one friend. From Gerard Gibson, I had been given the friendship of a lifetime that consisted of humor, loyalty, comfort, and affection.

I wanted him to want me, dammit. The way I wanted him…

“Alright.” Using one hand to steer the car, Gerard reached behind him with his free hand and held his thumb up in challenge. “Fight me for it.” Johnny laughed. “By thumb wrestling you?” “Are you scared you’ll lose?” “Get ready to be a back-seat bitch, Gibs.” Assuming position, Johnny linked hands with Gerard and smirked. “One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war.” “Five, six, seven, eight, I use this hand to masturbate.” “Gerard,” I yelped at the same time Shannon choked out, “Gibsie!”

“Who’s the back-seat bitch now?” Gerard laughed, cranking up the volume of the stereo. The Offspring’s “Original Prankster” blasted from the speakers, causing Gerard to bop his head like a madman, while Johnny and Shan clung to their seats in terror. I wasn’t scared, though. I trusted this boy with my life. Gerard wouldn’t kill me. After all, he’d promised to marry me before we both died.

Shannon Lynch was his endgame, and Johnny Kavanagh was hers.

“Will do, Fa.” Mam beamed at me, thinking the word Fa was a term of endearment for the man she’d thrust into my life when I was six. In her mind, Fa was short for father. In mine, it was short for fucking asshole

Johnny Kavanagh was, at eighteen years old, one of the best rugby players in the country, and I had no doubt that given a few years, he would raise those stakes to be among the best in the world. He was that talented.

Kav’s playlist was always set in beast mode. It didn’t matter what day of the week it was or what the occasion was, the music he played was ferocious, aggressive, and highly motivating. Seriously, after spending too long in his car or listening to his iPod, I felt like running laps and swinging fists.

“Jesus.” I blew out a breath and repressed a shudder. “I still can’t believe Joey’s a daddy.” “He’s always been one of those, lad,” Johnny said. “True that, Kav.” “Another Lynch boy.” “He’s not a Lynch, he’s a Joey.” “News flash, Joey’s a Lynch, Gibs.” “Nah, he’s a Joey. Like Bono. He doesn’t need a last name. Iconic.”

“You know you love me.” Yeah, and I had a feeling the whole world knew it.

“Oh great,” Tadhg deadpanned “Fatty’s here.” “What did I tell you about calling me fat,” Gerard shot back, not missing a beat. “I’m big-boned, you little shit.”

“And what did I tell you about using the talcum powder? The medicated one I had after the surgery. Use generously. Before and after training, Gibs. Every session.” “It makes me sneeze, Cap.” “You’re not supposed to smell it, Gibs. You’re supposed to pour it on your groin and thighs.” “You don’t smell it?” “No, lad, I don’t smell my balls,”

“Thanks,” I replied with a smile, falling into step beside him, all while trying my best not to be weird. God only knew why but I had the strongest urge to make farm animal noises in this moment.

Right yeah

“She’ll have to think about it.” Appearing out of thin air, Shannon slipped under Jamie’s arm and caught ahold of my hand. “Thank you so much for the offer,” she added, pulling both Lizzie and me away. “It was very thoughtful. Claire will get back to you in the next five working days.”

Amazing interference Sahnnon

“Jamie asked me out.” Yeah, I got that. “Claire.” Training my attention on her small hand covering mine, I let out a sigh. “It’s okay. You don’t need to explain anything to…” “I didn’t give him an answer!” My heart bucked wildly. “You didn’t?” “No, Gerard.” She shook her head slowly. “I didn’t.” “Why?” “You know why.”

My life consisted of this girl. Of the perfume she wore. Of the smiles she offered. The clothes she chose on a particular day. The colors she painted her nails. She was tattooed inside of me, and I was hooked. Claire was my safe place.

Feeling mischievous, I leaned in close and trailed the tip of my tongue from the curve of her jawline, not stopping until I reached her cheek. “My germs,” I teased before pressing a kiss to the adorable apple of her cheek. “Mine.”

Define platonic?

“Claire,” I whispered, cupping her face with my hand, while trying to regain some composure. “What are you doing?” Instead of responding with words, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to the inside of my wrist. “I don’t want Jamie Kelleher,” she whispered, shifting closer so that our chests were flush together. “I don’t want anyone else.”

“Who are we fighting?” “No one. We’re not fighting anyone,” Johnny was quick to rebuff. “Because I am in contract. You are on a warning,” he added, pointing at me before turning his attention to Joey. “And you are on probation.” Ignoring Johnny’s words of warning, Joey looked to me and repeated, “Who are we fighting, Gussie?”

“Since when have I ever given you the impression that I’m the little spoon in this relationship?” “And I am?” “Well, it isn’t bleeding me!” “I can’t help it, okay,” I huffed, flopping onto my back. “I’m used to cuddling Claire at night.” “And I’m used to cuddling Shannon.” Reaching behind his back, he retrieved a pillow and smacked me upside the head with it. “Not my fucking flanker.”

“Right, come on. It’s only half six. We can get a run in before school.” “Are you mental?” “The only thing I plan on doing before school is sleeping—and maybe having a few of your mam’s pancakes if they’re on offer.” “Get up.” “Hard pass.” “Come on, Gibs, we have a match today.” “Exactly. I need all the rest I can get.” “Gibs!” “Night, Cap. Love you.”

“Me?” “Yes!” “You’re afraid of me?” “Yes!” “Why?” “Because I fucking love you, Claire!” “I love you, too.” “I know,” he agreed. “That’s what makes it even worse!”

I didn’t want to be in love with him, and I was. It sucked. Big time. I wanted requited love. The proper kind. Like Shannon had with Johnny. And Aoife with Joey. Well, minus the drugs and the teen pregnancy. I just wanted a real relationship. With him.

Hehh

“I don’t need any more words, Gerard,” I clapped back. “I don’t need you putting anymore words into the atmosphere that you don’t mean.” “That I don’t mean?” he demanded. “What have I ever not meant?” “How about all of those lies you’ve fed me for the past sixteen years about loving me and wanting us to be together,” I strangled out. “Only to turn right around and do the opposite every chance you get!”

“It’s not about me finding excuses to not be with you, Claire,” he roared. “It’s about me knowing that you’re the perfect person for me.” Clearly furious, he slapped the heel of his hand against his forehand and hissed, “All the while knowing that I’m not!”

“Oh my god,” I cried out, beyond confused. “I never know where I stand with you.” “In front,” came his quick response. “On top. Number one. Fucking always, Claire.”