Taming 7 (Boys of Tommen, #5)

by Chloe Walsh

Moments before the pain in my lungs exploded and everything went dark, I saw it. A halo of light. An orb of pure sunshine. Her.

“You’re my favorite person in the whole wide world, and I would swap everyone for you. Even Hugh.”

Claire Biggs had a lot of things. My back. My attention. My heart. My soul.

Yeah, she had all of me and that wasn’t an exaggeration.

Why be fucked-up Gerard when I could be Gibsie the fuckup? It couldn’t hurt when I was Gibsie, because Gibsie was my armor, and humor was my sword.

If I could sew this girl to my skin without causing her an ounce of harm, then I would do it in a heartbeat. That’s how vital she was to my life. How essential she was to my existence. If drugs were to Joey Lynch what Claire Biggs was to me, then there was no amount of rehab that could sway me to kick the habit. Because she was the habit of my lifetime.

From as far back as I could remember, my mind had always been very clear about three things. One: Hugh was my brother. Two: Bethany was my sister. Three: Claire was mine.

“It’s okay to not be okay.”

listening to his input on the world. “You’re good with words,” I offered. “When you use them.” “I use them,” he replied. “Not everyone listens.” “Ooh, deep… Okay, pee break!” Pushing my chair back, I sprang up and moved for the door. “I’ll be right back.” “Take your time.” He laughed after me. “And too much information.” Smiling to myself, I skipped down the corridor in the direction of the girls’ bathroom, stopping to call out, “Get a room,” to the ridiculously attractive couple eating the faces off each other in the stairwell on my way. “Mind your business,” Aoife called back, not bothering to release her hold on Joey. “As you were, Stud.” Aw…I hope they had condoms in the annex. Pushing the bathroom door inward, I stepped inside and then, because I was a sucker for a good echo, I tap-danced across the floor, enjoying the clickety noise the heels of my shoes made against the tiles. “Hey, girls,” I acknowledged, offering Helen and Shelly a wave before disappearing inside one of the cubicles to take care of business. When I reappeared a few minutes later, they were both still there, leaning against the sinks with one of their camera phones in hand. “What’s up?” I asked, joining them at the sinks to wash my hands. “Do you want to ask her?” “Oh my god, hells, no! I’m not asking her.” “Well, one of us has to.” “What’s up, girls?” I smiled. “Ask me what?” Stepping behind Helen, Shelley pushed her forward and said, “Helen wants to know if it’s true about you and Gibsie.” “What ...