Chapter 31: Binding 13: Chapter 31

The minute I stepped foot inside Biddies, I knew I had made a terrible mistake.

Scratch that: the minute I let Gibsie open that bottle of my Da’s whiskey, I knew I had made a terrible mistake.

After my shower, I tried to persuade him to have a few drinks at home with me instead of going out, but whiskey made me compliant.

It turned me into an agreeable, bleeding eejit.

Which was exactly how Gibsie had managed to coax me out of my bad mood, into what he called my ‘shifting jacket’, and into the passenger seat of his car.

I should’ve known better when he wasn’t drinking with me.

Fucker.

Drip-feeding me Jameson was the reason I was currently standing in the doorway of Biddies Bar, three drinks past tipsy, and wishing I was anywhere but this goddamn pub.

Not only were half the girls from sixth year inside.

But so was Bella.

The minute Bella noticed us, she caught ahold of a nervous looking Cormac and welded her face to his.

Whatever semblance of enthusiasm I had churned up for tonight being a bit of craic had flown out the window at the sight of her.

Not so much because she was scoring with Cormac in front of me, though that didn’t help, but because I was still peppering with anger over the way she carried on at school yesterday.

All I wanted her to do was go away.

Just go away and leave me alone.

In all honesty, I didn’t think that was too much to ask for.

“Ignore them,” Gibsie muttered in my ear.

“Kinda hard all things considered,” I shot back, gesturing to where my former whatever-the-hell-she-was mauled the face off my winger less than ten feet from me.

I instantly felt my brain kick to life and start the sobering-up process because I knew exactly how dangerous this girl was, and dammit, I needed to be in my full senses to defend myself.

“Understandable,” Gibs said in agreement. “At least you know the show’s for your benefit.”

“I don’t want it to be for my benefit. I want her to fuck off,” I growled, repressing a shudder at the sight. “Please tell me that I never carried on like that with her.”

“Well, I don’t know how you carried on behind closed car doors,” Gibs replied. “But you never let yourself down like that in public.”

“Thank Christ,” I muttered.

“Come on, Johnny.” Clamping a hand on my shoulder, Gibsie steered me towards the table we usually sat at. “Sit down. I’ll get a round of pints in.”

“Vodka, Gibs,” I corrected, knowing I was going to need something a hell of a lot stronger than the beer that what was on tap to get through tonight. “A double vodka and red bull– and a shit load of shots.”

Fuck getting sober.

I was going all out.

Gibsie could take care of me for once.

“I’m on it, buddy,” Gibsie chuckled before disappearing into the crowd.

Ignoring the table of girls from school who had conveniently positioned themselves at the table next to ours, a table that included Bella and Cormac, I slumped down beside Hughie and his girlfriend, Katie Wilmot.

“Hughie,” I muttered by way of acknowledgement.

I eyed the bottle of 7up with a straw sticking out the rim that Hughie’s girlfriend was clutching and my lips twitched.

“Alright, Cap?” Hughie acknowledged with a loose smile. “How was training?”

I grunted my response, too sore and uncomfortable to make an effort and lie.

It was shite.

Everything was shite.

My world was going to shite.

And tonight’s spectacle was the cherry to top it all off.

“Feely coming out tonight?”

Hughie shook his head. “Nah, lad. Something came up.”

“No surprises there,” I replied knowingly.

“You’re telling me,” Hughie replied with a weary sigh.

Patrick was a quiet fish, and even though we’d been friends for the bones of seven years, I didn’t know a great deal about him aside from the fact that he was evasive, quiet, and had a tendency to back out of plans at the last minute.

After catching up with Hughie, I inclined my head to the pretty, little redhead tucked into his side. “Katie.”

“Hi, Johnny,” Katie said with a shy smile as she huddled under Hughie’s arm.

No fucking wonder you’re huddling, I thought to myself.

I’d huddle, too, if I was a shy, sixteen-year-old girl being subjected to the horrendous mouthfucking at the other table.

Katie was too young to be in a bar, we all were, but kudos to my friend for having the decency to not fill her up with booze.

Not that I thought for one minute that he would.

For some unknown reason, Hughie was obsessed with the tiny redhead under his arm.

Had been since she walked through the doors of Tommen as a fresh faced first year.

We had been in second year when Hughie threw his cards in with Katie Wilmot.

At the time, I – along with every other one of our friends and teammates – had thought Hughie was a lunatic and had voiced my thoughts aloud regularly.

But now that I had age and experience on my side, I had to admit that his situation seemed a hell of a lot more appealing than mine.

Devotion had to feel better than being used did.

“You’re looking well tonight, Katie,” I told her, because it was the truth and she was insecure.

I knew this tidbit of information because her boyfriend often confided in me about their relationship.

I probably knew far more about their relationship

Katie smiled shyly and snuggled closer into Hughie’s side. “Thanks.”

Hughie shot me a grateful look.

He didn’t need to thank me for shit.

His girlfriend was beautiful.

Gibsie rounded the table a few moments later, distracting me with a tray laden down with glasses.

“Bottoms up, Cap,” he announced, slapping the tray down in front of me.

“Cheers.” Not bothering to ask what was on offer tonight, knowing I’d drink petrol with the mood I was in, I grabbed two shot glasses off the tray and tossed them back.

And then, for good measure, I threw back another four shots before settling on my vodka and red bull.

I needed it because watching the floorshow occurring at the table next to ours wasn’t fun.

From where I was sitting, I had a perfect view of Bella straddling Cormac.

He had his hands under her skirt, and her legs were wrapped around his waist.

They might as well be naked and shagging they were being that bleeding obvious.

Propping himself on the stool in front of me, Gibs thankfully blocked my view.

“I’m prettier to look at,” he announced with a wink and then proceeded to toss back shots like it was going out of fashion.

I could always depend on this fucker.

Hail, rain, or snow, Gibsie had my back.

That was a comforting notion.

“Ryan’s a clown,” Hughie, reading my thoughts, stated aloud. “She’s doing this on purpose to get a rise out of you, and he’s letting her use him to do it.”

“You had a lucky escape, Johnny,” Katie agreed with a sympathetic smile.

I shrugged and reached for another shot.

“She can do whatever she wants.” Pressing the glass to my lips, I tossed the drink back and swallowed quickly. “They both can.”

I meant it.

I didn’t want her back.

I would never go back there.

But that didn’t mean that this was easy to watch.

Because it wasn’t.

It was an intentional attack and it stung.

Mostly because Cormac was going along with it.

“Yeah, but rubbing it in your face like this is disgusting,” Katie replied, frowning at the pair. “If the shoe was on the other foot, and you did that with one of Bella’s friends right in front of her, she would lose it.”

“True,” both Gibs and Hughie agreed in unison.

For the next couple of hours, I ignored Bella and Cormac, focusing my attention on my friends and the live band playing in the corner of the bar.

I tried to relax and let loose by joining in on the conversation, while necking back drink after drink, but it wasn’t coming easy to me.

I was too stressed.

When I wasn’t actively trying to avoid Bella and Cormac, my mind wandered back to the niggling concern that I tried so hard not to dwell on.

My health.

Problem was, the alcohol flushing through my veins was making it impossible for me to block out my fears.

What if I couldn’t get my shit together?

What if my body didn’t heal?

What the fuck was I supposed to do with my life?

Every theoretical egg I had ever possessed was firmly nestled in the basket labelled ‘career in rugby’.

Right now, that basket was toppling and I was powerless to stop it.

In other words, I was completely helpless and utterly screwed.

“Okay, folks, this next song is from Reckless Kelly,” the lead singer announced over the microphone, distracting me from my drunken thoughts. He strummed on his guitar and then added, “Wicked Twisted Road”.

Leaning forward, I placed my elbows on the table and strained to hear the lyrics over the noise of the crowd.

One verse in and I was hooked.

Drunk as I was, I knew I needed to remember it.

I needed to hear it again.

The words were shooting straight through me.

I felt them hard and deep, relating something fierce to every line of every verse.

Unsurprising – but still completely messed up – it was Shannon’s face that flittered through my mind as the lyrics forced their way into my sluggish brain.

Shannon with the lonesome eyes.

A lifetime of striving to be the best.

The fear of not being good enough.

And the constant, sinking feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach.

Dragging my phone out of my jeans pocket, I tapped out a quick text, hoping I was typing the name of the song properly before exiting my messages, leaving the text in my drafts.

With my phone in my hands, I pondered about what I would do if I had Shannon’s phone number.

It was good that I didn’t have it.

Never in my life had I been partial to drunk dialing, but right now I had a burning urge to dial her absent number.

Would she pick up the phone?

If she did, what would I say?

Would she talk to me?

Fuck, I wanted to hear her voice on the other side of that line.

This girl is different, my stupid fucking brain chanted. This one is for keeps.

I wanted to be back in my room, with my phone pressed to my ear, listening to her stumble over her words as she told me every one of her thoughts.

I wanted to be back here with her, watching her blush and smile and peek up at me through those long, thick lashes.

I wanted to be sitting in that dark cinema with her, not paying an ounce of attention to the film showing, while I stole secret glances at her and burned in heat when I found her eyes on me.

I just wanted her.

You could love this girl your whole life, the crazy thought persisted inside my brain over and over, if you just let yourself.

A sharp elbow to my ribs had my head snapping up.

“The fuck?” I turned my glare on Hughie, annoyed to be distracted from my happy place. “What was that in aid of?”

“We have company,” he muttered, inclining his head.

“Oh god, here we go,” Katie mumbled under her breath.

Bleary eyed, I followed his move, my gaze landing on Cormac Ryan just as he rounded our table, face flushed and lipstick smeared across his mouth.

Hot on his heels was a smug looking Bella.

“Alright, lads?” Cormac acknowledged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “How’s it going?”

Leaning back in my seat, I gave them both an impassive look.

Hughie gave Cormac a stiff nod but made no move to enter into small talk with him.

Katie didn’t even look at him.

Gibsie was looking at him; a murderous expression replacing his usual lopsided grin.

“Johnny.” Cormac’s wary gaze landed on me. “Can I have a word, lad?”

I took my time looking him up and down before settling on, “If that’s what you want to talk to me about –” I gestured to Bella who was standing behind him with a smirk on her face, “Then there’s no need. Your actions spoke clearly for you tonight.”

“Listen, Johnny, I don’t want any trouble,” Cormac replied, running a frustrated hand through his black hair. “All I wanted to do was clear the air and make sure there’s no hard feelings between us.” Shrugging, he added, “We have to play together and I don’t want any bad blood.”

“The window of time to talk to me about this was months ago,” I replied in a flat tone. “And considering we were playing together when you decided to fuck me over, I find that hard to believe.”

“It wasn’t like that, lad,” Cormac countered, flustered. “I thought you two were off at the time.”

“I honestly don’t care,” I told him. “As far as I’m concerned, she’s your problem now.”

“Johnny, come on –”

“Now off you go,” I interrupted, waving him off. “And good luck with that –” I shot Bella a scathing look. “Because you’re going to need it.”

“That?” Bella spat. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking about, Johnny Kavanagh?”

“I’m talking about you,” I shot back with a sneer. “And I’m wondering what the hell possessed me to ever put my dick inside something so fucking poisonous.”

A chorus of snickering erupted around the table next to us.

Gibsie laughed loudly.

So did Hughie and Katie.

I would have felt bad for the comment, but the alcohol flushing through my veins was like truth potion.

“Yeah, well, you were total shit,” Bella screamed at me. “And I will never touch you again.”

“Praise fucking Jesus,” I shot back sarcastically. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all year.”

“Hey – don’t be like that!” Cormac warned, taking a protective stance in front of her. “Bella’s my girlfriend now, and I won’t have you talking to her like that.”

I arched a brow. “Your girlfriend?”

“That’s right,” Bella hissed, smirking. “I’m his girlfriend.”

“Ah, Christ.” I rubbed a hand over my face and groaned. “I almost feel sorry for you, Ryan, because you clearly have no idea of who you’re dealing with.”

“I know exactly who you are, Kavanagh,” he snarled. “I know all about you.”

“Not me, asshole,” I growled. “Her!”

Cormac glared at me, face turning bright red. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means keep an eye on your teammates, lad,” I shot back. “Because that one’s not girlfriend material.”

His eyes narrowed. “Come outside and say that to my face.”

“I’m saying it right here,” I deadpanned. “To your face.”

“With a table in front of you, and your friends at your side,” he taunted. “Big man you are. Come outside and talk shit about her to my face.”

“Nope,” Gibsie replied for me, reaching for another shot glass. “Not happening. So, you can keep on walking, turncoat, because he’s not biting.”

“Shag off, Gibs.” Cormac glared down at him. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Maybe not,” Gibs replied, tossing his drink back. “But I’m sure as hell talking to you.” Shoving his stool back, he jerked to his feet and squared up to Cormac. “Now turn your ass around and take your little girlfriend back to the hole you both crawled out from.”

“Or what?” Cormac growled, pressing his forehead against Gibsie’s.

Bad fucking move on Ryan’s part.

“There’s no contract hanging over my head like there is his, asshole,” Gibsie seethed, pushing back with his forehead. “I have no fucking probl

At six feet, both lads were evenly matched in height, but Gibsie outweighed Cormac by a good thirty pounds because on the pitch, Cormac was a skilled runner and Gibs was a highly charged battering ram.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Hughie groaned, voicing my thoughts aloud. “He had to push it.”

“Yep,” Katie agreed glumly. “He sure did.”

Gibsie had an easy-going nature, but give him a few drinks and a reason to fight and he went all in.

“I’ve got no problem with you, Gibsie,” Cormac barked. “My issue’s with Kavanagh.”

“Well, that’s too bad, because I have a huge fucking problem with you,” Gibsie snarled. “Who the fuck do you think you are, coming over here with her, trying to cause drama?”

“I was trying to clear the air,” Cormac bit out, jaw clenched.

“No, you were trying to get a rise out of him,” Gibsie corrected, snarling. “You were trying to fuck up his season.” He shoved Cormac in the chest and claimed the space when he staggered backwards. “Because you’re a jealous, little prick and The Academy doesn’t want you.”

“Push me one more time and I’ll break your legs,” Cormac snarled, shoving Gibsie right back.

Unfazed by the threat, Gibsie continued on his rampage. “You and that bitch were trying to get one over on him because he doesn’t want her, and you can’t do it where it counts.” Pressing his forehead to Cormac’s, he hissed, “On the pitch.”

“We don’t want any trouble in here tonight, boys,” the barmaid called out over the crowd. “Pack it in!”

“Trouble?” Gibsie laughed humorlessly, and then he swung his fist, catching Cormac straight in the jaw. “I’m going to rip this fucker’s head off,” he roared, barreling into him.

Several high-pitched screams erupted from the girls around us as both lads landed on a nearby table, sending chairs flying and glasses crashing to the floor.

I was out of my seat and closing in on my friend in seconds.

“Gibs!” I roared, dragging him off of Cormac who was getting a few punches of his own in.

“Walk away, lad,” I commanded in a low tone as I clamped a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back to me. “This isn’t your fight.”

“Like hell it’s not,” he snarled, lunging forward so hard that I had to double my efforts to keep him at bay. “You’re my best friend and this prick has been disrespecting you for months.”

“Let him,” I replied calmly, catching Hughie’s eye and gesturing for him to get his arse over here pronto. “I don’t care, and neither do you.”

“Oh, I care,” Gibsie snarled, eyes locked on Cormac.

“Get this mental case away from me or I’ll kill him,” Cormac seethed, wiping a trail of blood from his mouth. “You’re a fucking lunatic, Gerard Gibson.”

“You’ll do nothing,” I snarled, glaring at Cormac, as I took a protective stance in front of Gibsie.

Bella, who had been screaming her head off to the side, decided this was the perfect time to slip around me and get in Gibsie’s face.

“You prick,” she screamed, slapping him across the face. “Don’t you dare touch him.”

“Get out of his face,” I warned her, shoving my best friend behind me. “Now.”

“Or what?” she hissed, slapping me across the face. “You’ll set your guard dog on me, too?”

“Did you enjoy that?” I seethed, not even flinching. “Because that’s the only way you’ll put your hands on me again.”

She reared back and slapped me again.

I laughed into her face. “Go on. Go right ahead. Hit me all fucking night. It won’t change a thing.”

“Stop,” Cormac commanded, pushing her behind his back. “Don’t hit him.”

“He deserves it,” she screamed.

“Because I don’t want you?” I tossed back and laughed. “Oh yeah, because that’s how life works.”

“Don’t make me call the Gardaí on ye!” the older woman behind the bar screeched. “Pack of little gobshites.”

“No need for that, Mags,” Hughie announced, scrambling to intercept Gibsie’s swinging fist with his hand.

“Get him out of here,” I ordered, dragging Gibsie back once more.

“Your place?” Hughie asked.

“Anywhere.” I ran a hand through my hair in exasperation. “Just keep him safe.”

Hughie nodded and turned his attention to Gibsie.

“Let’s go, Rocky Balboa,” he said brightly. “Before you get us all thrown in the barrack for the night.”

“He asked for it,” Gibsie slurred. “Piece of shit.”

“I know, lad,” Hughie coaxed. “Come on.” Wrapping his body around Gibsie’s, he forcefully walked him backwards out of the bar.

“You coming, Johnny?” Katie asked, glancing nervously between me and Cormac.

“I’ll be grand,” I told her and turned my attention on Cormac.

Are you sure?” Katie persisted. “You should come with us –”

“Go ahead, Katie,” I ordered, swinging around to catch her eye. “I’ll make my own way home.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

I waited until Katie had followed Hughie and Gibsie out of the bar before turning my attention back to Cormac.

“You want to talk to me?” I snarled, gesturing towards the door. “Then let’s go.”

Not waiting for a response, I pushed my way through the crowded bar towards the exit, receiving several claps on the shoulders and ‘Great match, Johnny’ and ‘Looking forward to seeing you in green in June’ spiels as I tried my best to walk a straight line.

Doubtful, I thought to myself. Very fucking doubtful.

When I reached the pub door and stepped outside into the street, I was relieved to not find the lads outside waiting for me.

A few minutes later the door swung open and Cormac walked out.

“Not her,” I barked, pointing a finger at Bella who filed outside after him. “She stays the fuck away from me.”

“It’s a free country,” Bella countered, glaring daggers at me. “I can go wherever the hell I want.”

“Either she goes or I go,” I growled, addressing Cormac. “Your choice.”

Bella opened her mouth to say something else, something spiteful, no doubt, but Cormac spoke first, “Go back inside,” he told her. “I won’t be long.”

“But I –”

“I need to talk to him,” Cormac pressed. “Go inside.”

With what looked like great reluctance, Bella went back inside, leaving me alone on the street with Cormac.

“Right,” he growled, rolling out his shoulders. “Let’s do this, Kavanagh.”

I arched a brow, amused at the fighting stance Ryan had taken.

If he thought I was going to throw my career away for a punch up over Bella, he was seriously mistaken.

Shannon – absolutely, but Bella? Not a chance.

“Put your fists away, ya bleeding eejit,” I barked. “I’m not going to touch you.”

He watched me for several moments, eyes full of mistrust, clearing waiting for me to pounce.

It was almost comical.

Almost.

“Believe it or not, Johnny,” he finally broke the tension by saying. “I was genuinely trying to clear the air between us.”

“When we’re both full of drink?”

“Fair enough,” he conceded. “But I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“You didn’t mean for what to happen exactly?” I asked, leaning my shoulder against the wall of the pub for balance. “You didn’t mean to fuck me over, or you didn’t mean to hit my best friend and your teammate?”

The night air had hit me like a fucking wrecking ball and I knew full well that without the wall for support, I would be swaying like the tower of Pisa.

“Gibs hit me first,” Cormac snapped and then threw his hands up. “He was in my face.”

“Because you were in mine,” I replied calmly. “Because you were told to leave and you wouldn’t, and because I’m his captain and that means something to him.”

Cormac grimaced at my words.

Good.

Fucker needed to feel them.

“And I didn’t mean to fuck you over,” he added, cheeks reddening. “I thought you two were of

“Then all you had to do was pick up the phone,” I countered, words slurring despite my best efforts. “And hear it from the horse’s mouth.”

“I should have,” he finally admitted.

“You know what the messed-up thing is,” I mused, voicing my thoughts aloud. “It’s that if you told me you liked her, I would have stepped back.” Folding my arms across my chest, I glared at him. “I would have respected the shite out of you for being a man about it, and I would have walked away. Bella and I were never serious. I didn’t have a relationship with her. But I had one with you. And you betrayed me.”

“Cap –”

“No, shut up and let me say this.” Exhaling heavily, I said, “It’s not that she went behind my back with my teammate. It’s that my teammate went behind my back with her.”

Cormac groaned loudly. “Johnny, lad, I didn’t mean for it to –”

I held a hand up, warding him off with his bullshit.

“Don’t feed me that you didn’t mean for it to happen line. I’ve had sex, Cormac, many times, and we both know that when you put your dick inside a girl, you always fucking mean it. It doesn’t just slip in unannounced to ya.”

“You’re right,” he admitted after a long pause. “Shit, lad, you’re right.”

“I know I am,” I replied, tone clipped.

“And you’re really done?” He watched me with a wary expression. “You don’t want her back?”

I shook my head and expelled a frustrated breath. “I don’t know how many ways I can say it, Ryan; I don’t want a bleeding thing to do with that girl. So, you go right ahead and do whatever the hell you want with her. Just keep her the fuck away from me, keep your PDA’s out of my face, and we’ll be golden.”

“Are you saying that to save face?” he pushed.

“I would think you knew by now that I’m a straight talker,” I growled. “When I tell you I’m done, I mean it.”

“So, that’s it?”

“Yep.” I nodded. “That’s it.”

“Why aren’t you more pissed at me?” he asked, giving me a mistrusting look.

“Because I feel sorry for you,” I told him and surprisingly it was the truth.

I was feeling sorry for Cormac.

I was also disappointed in him.

I was a lot of things but pissed wasn’t one of them.

Not right now, at least.

He was a pawn in one of Bella’s games and even though I was drunk, I could see that as clear as day.

“Listen to me,” I began, striving not to slur my words as I tried to give him some hard-learned home truths. “I’ve been in this game a long fucking time and I know what’s happening here. Bella’s using you to get to me and you’re letting her make an eejit out of you.”

Only God himself knew why I was giving him advice after stabbing me in the back, but I continued.

“She can’t have me anymore and you’re the next best thing,” I slurred. “It’s money for that one, Ryan. Money and status.” Shaking my head, I added, “Fighting with your teammate over a fucking girl is the beginning of the end. Go down that path and it’s over for you before it has even started.”

Even in my drunken state, I knew I was making a hypocritical fucking statement.

I justified my reasons with the knowledge that Shannon was worth it.

Bella was not.

Cormac glowered at me. “You think you’re better than me.”

Was he serious?

Was that all he took from my effort of helping him?

“I am better than you,” I snapped, frustrated that he wasn’t listening to me. “If you want to be on my level, then step it up on the pitch. Work harder. Train harder. Be fucking better. And open your goddamn eyes to danger. Because that so-called girlfriend of yours will bleed you dry, lad.”

“She is my girlfriend,” he snarled. “So don’t talk about her like that.”

God, give me strength…

“Fine.” I threw my hands up. “Keep your girlfriend away from mine and we’ll be rosy.”

“You don’t have a girlfriend,” he replied slowly, expression laced with confusion.

“Me,” I corrected, flustered at the word spill. “Keep her away from me and we won’t have a problem.”

“So, what happens now?” Cormac asked, face contorted in a pained grimace. “Are we going to have a problem playing together after this?”

“No.”

“No.” His brows shot up. “Why not?”

“Because I’m not thick enough to let a girl like that fuck with my head,” I bit out. “You’re a decent winger and the team needs you. I’d be a selfish bastard if I allowed my personal issues to impact the squad.”

“And Bella?” Cormac asked after a long pause. “Are you going to cause problems with her?”

“Because you’re with her? No,” I told him. “If she fucks with Shannon? Absolutely.”

“Shannon?”

“Yes, Shannon,” I bit out, tone harsh now.

Cormac stared blankly. “Who’s Shannon?”

“Shannon is the reason you’re going to end up with a broken jaw.”

“The hell?”

“Bella was threatening to go after her,” I snarled. “If that happens, I will fuck you up.”

He blanched. “Why me?”

“Can’t hit a girl which means I’ll be coming for the next best thing,” I explained. “So, bear in mind that every single time your Bella decides to make a threat, spread a nasty rumor, or fuck with my Shannon, I’ll return the favor on your face. Every single, goddamn time.”

Cormac visibly paled, and the visual, although slightly hazy, was extremely satisfying.

“Good,” I grunted, pulling my phone out of my pocket to call a taxi. “Glad we understand each other.”

Shaking my head, I blinked a couple of times to clear my vision as I pulled up my phonebook and dialed the number labeled Fat Paddy.

Fucking Gibsie.

I should have known better than to leave my phone alone with him when I went for a shower.

The last time he got ahold of my phone, he renamed my mother Sugar Tits and Bella Devil Pussy.

It was all shits and giggles until Sugar Tits texted me in the middle of the night, demanding I come downstairs and unlock the front door because she was standing outside and wanted to come inside.

Not knowing who the hell was texting me, I had replied with more profanities than I cared to think about before threatening to call the Gardaí – on my own bleeding mother.

Talk about a clusterfuck of a misunderstanding.

“Do you want to shake it out?” Cormac asked, distracting me from my mission to get my drunk ass home, as he extended his hand towards me.

“Get that fucking thing away from me.” I scowled at his hand as I put my phone to my ear. “I know where it’s been.”

His expression darkened, but he had the good sense not to push his luck for the night.

With a stiff nod, Cormac turned around and walked back inside the bar.

When Fat Paddy’s number rang off, I tried five more times before giving up.

Taxi’s around here turned their phones off on Saturday nights when it got busy, and from the sheer volume of people about the streets tonight, I knew I’d be waiting a long fucking time to get home.

Frustrated, I turned my attention back to my phone and scrolled through my contacts, looking for Hughie’s name.

“That little bollox,” I cursed when I realized that Gibsie had once again changed the name of every single contact on my list.

Sugar Tits and Devil Pussy were once against present in my contacts, along with new ones like Big Daddy G, Fanny Flaps, Call if Arrested, Do Not Call if Arrested, and my personal favorite: Judas Iscari-cunt.

Clicking into that particular contact, I recognized the number as being Cormac’s.

He could stay like that.

Devil Pussy, too.

I spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to find Hughie’s number because I couldn’t figure out who was bleeding who in my phone.

After accidentally dialing the contact Casual Sex and hearing Coach Mulcahy’s voice on the other line, I quickly hung up.

Cancelling another incoming call from King Clit, because who in their right mind would answer a number listed as that, I switched off my phone and shoved it back in my pocket.

Morose, I made my way across the road to the chip shop and ordered half a dozen cheeseburgers and two bags of chips.

No need to watch my diet now.

Not when my body was hellbent on giving up on me.

Slumping on a wall outside the chipper, I devoured everything and chugged it down with a bottle of water.

The grease tasted foreign to me, and I knew I would pay for it tomorrow, but for now I didn’t care.

“Johnny Kavanagh?” a vaguely familiar voice called my name. “Is that you?”

I snapped my gaze up to see a tall lad about my age looking expectantly at me.

He had his arm slung over the shoulder of an attractive blonde.

Fan or friend?

Friend or fan?

I tried to place the face and couldn’t, so decided on fan.

“No pictures tonight, kids,” I bit out, tone slurred. “Johnny’s on a time-out.”

The guy laughed but made no move to shove a camera in my face, which was just as well considering my current condition.

Instead he shocked the hell out of me by saying, “I spoke to you on the phone the other week. You know my sister, Shannon. You dropped her home from school.”

My head snapped up and I found myself concentrating a whole heap more on the lad in front of me.

“You’re the hurler–” I paused and racked my brain for his name. “Joey!” I blurted out, proud of myself for managing to retrieve that piece of information in my state. “Joey the hurler and Shannon like the river.”

“Like the river?” the girl chuckled. “God, how much have you had to drink?”

“A river load by the looks of it,” Joey stated wryly, eyeing me with curiosity. “Do you think you should head home, man?” he added. “You look fairly well oiled.”

“Would if I could,” I admitted with a grumble. “No taxi.”

“Sure we can give you a lift, can’t we, babe?” the girl announced, pointing down the street. “We’re only parked down the road.”

I opened my mouth to protest but, “That’d be great, thanks,” came out instead.

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Joey agreed, looking a bit surprised. He shifted uncomfortably for a minute then inclined his head. “Let’s go.”

Slamming my shoulder against the wall, I managed to keep my balance as I followed after them.

Thankfully, the girl who I presumed was Joey’s girlfriend, wasn’t messing when she said they were only parked down the road.

Another few stumbling feet and we reached the red Opal Corsa.

At least that’s what I thought it was.

It was hard to tell because my head was spinning and the car was a bucket of rust.

Fuck it, though, I was in no state to question their methods of traveling.

I was beyond grateful for the lift.

“I’m Aoife Molloy, by the way,” the girl announced, giving me a bright smile before making her way around to the passenger side of the car. “Joey the hurler’s girlfriend.” She snickered at that last bit before climbing into the front seat.

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, keeping my weight against the wall while Joey opened the driver’s side door and then rolled the seat forward.

“Three door,” he said by way of explanation. “You’re going to have to climb into the back.”

“It’s fine, lad.” I pulled away from the wall and braced my weight against the car before wedging myself through the tiny space.

My efforts were about as effective as sailing a paper boat because Joey had to shove on my back to get me inside.

“Christ,” I muttered when I was finally in.

Sinking down in the middle of the seat, I had to twist my body sideways, my legs facing the side window, so Joey could push back his seat.

“You good, Kavanagh?” he called out when he climbed inside and pushed his seat back another five inches.

“All good,” I croaked out, body mashed between the back of his seat and mine. “Thanks again for the lift.”

“No bother,” Joey replied. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to his girlfriend’s lips before fastening his seatbelt. “Where are we heading?”

Straight to your house because I wanna fuck your sister, I thought to myself, smirked at the fabulous notion, and then hunted the crazy thought away with a shake of my head.

Probably love her, too, I mused to myself, a fucking lot, before pushing that madness out as well.

Cop yourself on, asshole!

“About four miles the other side of Tommen College,” I slurred.

I tried to find my seatbelt, but my fumbling hands wouldn’t cooperate.

“Head out the main road for the city.” Giving up on finding my belt, I dropped my head back against the rest and sighed. “I’ll call the turn offs when we get to them.”

“No bother.”

He started the engine and had just pulled onto the road when I felt the car brake suddenly.

“What the fuck?” Joey barked seconds before two hands slammed down on the hood of his car. “Get off my car, asshole!”

“You’re stealing my Center,” Gibsie roared in the window as he leaned over the hood of the car. “Give him back.” His eyes darted from Joey to me, recognition sparking. “Hey, Cap.” He grinned, head lolling to one side. “How’s it going? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“And this clown is?” Joey asked, tone derisive, attention locked on Gibsie who was having a one-way conversation with me through the windscreen of his car.

“He’s my Flanker,” I grumbled before turning my attention back to the man-child hugging the bonnet. “Gibs! What the fuck are you doing, lad!” I barked, glaring out the windscreen. “You’re supposed to be gone home with Hughie?”

“The Gards pulled him over for tax and insurance,” he called back through the windscreen like that answered my question.

I gaped. “So? Hughie’s above board.”

“He looked at me, Johnny – shone his big fucking torch right in my eyes,” he called back. “I panicked and jumped out of the car.” Shrugging, he added, “I’ve been running around town ever since.” He narrowed his eyes. “I tried to call you but you kept cutting me off!”

I glared at him. “You’re King Clit?”

“Oh, yeah,” Gibsie snickered. “I forgot about that.”

“What’s Hughie down as?”

“Ginger Pubes,” he replied like it was the most obvious thing ever.

It wasn’t.

“He’s blond,” I growled.

“His girlfriend isn’t.”

“Jesus Christ,” I groaned, rubbing my forehead.

“What do you want me to do with him?” Joey asked.

I shrugged and contemplated telling him to drive over the annoying fucker, but then I knew I would be terribly lonely without him.

And in all fairness, he had taken a few slaps defending my honor tonight.

“I should probably bring him back to my place,” I begrudgingly admitted. “Or a secured hospital.”

Joey muttered something incoherent under his breath and climbed out.

It sounded something like ‘you two fuckers better not puke in this car.’

I was making no promises.

My buddy was a projector.

Pulling on the seat, Joey dragged it forward and instructed an intoxicated Gibsie to climb in.

He did.

But instead of climbing or crawling inside, the bastard lunged into the backseat.

“Fuck!” I roared, doubling over in pain when his elbow landed in my crotch.

There goes your last shot right there…

“Shit, man, did I get your dick?” Gibsie slurred as he tried and failed to climb over me. “I’ll get ice for your balls when we get home.”

“Get. Off. Me,” I strangled out, fairly sure I was turning purple from the pain, as he climbed over the seat, digging and kneeing me with his elbows and knees.

Finally, he managed to drag his ass over to the other side of the seat.

“Christ,” he mused, settling down alongside me. “That’s the tightest hole I’ve been inside in months.”

Joey climbed back in and started the engine before quickly tearing off down the street.

“I hope there’s not any more of you,” he said. “The car’s weighing down at the back.”

“Sorry,” I began to say but was cut off by Gibsie.

“It’s his fault – the fat bastard,” he announced. Turning to face me, he added, “Hey, is your dick okay, man? I’m really sorry about that. I hope I didn’t squash your balls.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Go fuck yourself, Gerard.”

“I was being sincere, Jonathon,” he shot back, wounded. “For that, you can get your own bloody ice tonight – hold up!”

Grabbing the front of my shirt, he dragged me towards him and sniffed my mouth.

“You traitor!” he choked out, looking comically horrified. “You went to the chipper!”

“Yeah, I did,” I replied, shoving away from him. “And it was fucking delicious, and I have no regrets.”

“What did you have?”

“A few cheeseburgers and a curry-chips.”

“How did it taste?”

“Better than sex.”

“We’re supposed to be on a diet!” Gibsie hissed in an appalled tone before quickly asking, “Did you get me something?”

“Yeah, I got you a burger.”

“Thanks, Johnny.”

“And then I got hungry so I ate it.”

“You’re a monster.”

“You two are so weird,” Aoife laughed. “Aren’t they funny, Joey?”

“They’re something, alright,” Shannon’s brother replied.

“Hey.” Suddenly realizing he was in the company of strangers, Gibsie leaned through the middle of their seats and asked, “Who the fuck are you guys?”

“Johnny’s friends with my boyfriend’s sister,” Aoife explained.

“Sister?” The word seemed to confuse Gibsie, who stared blankly at me for several moments.

Throwing a prayer up to the heavens that he could control himself, I nodded and said, “Shannon.”

Gibsie sank back beside me and frowned. “Shannon?”

“Yes, Shannon.” I glared at him.

Gibsie’s eyes widened then, awareness suddenly dawning on him.

“Oh, Shannon!” he exclaimed. “Ah, yeah, little Shannon from third year.” Grinning, he nudged me in the ribs. “Johnny here has a fierce soft spot for your sister.”

“Is that right?” Joey replied tightly.

Oh fuck.

“Yeah, he’s always looking out for her at school,” Gibsie added with a wink. “Making sure she’s not getting into any hassle.”

I bit back a groan and resisted the urge to wrap my hands around his neck and choke the life out of him.

To be fair, it could have been worse.

Gibsie was capable of saying so much worse.

“That’s lovely,” Aoife chimed in, and I noticed the way she placed a hand on her boyfriend’s knee. “Isn’t it kind of him, Joe?”

“Why?” Joey demanded, tone hard and suspicious. “What’s in it for you?”

I sighed heavily and tried to come up with something believable.

“Because I fucked her –”

“You what?” Joey roared, slamming on the brakes.

The sudden jolt of the car stopping caused Gibsie and me to lunge forwards.

Turning around, Joey glared at me. “You better be messing around right now, Kavanagh, because I swear to Christ I will –”

“Over!” I hurried to explain, dragging myself back onto the seat. “I fucked her over on her first day. Embarrassed her on the pitch when I knocked her out.”

But I want to fuck her…

I want in your sister so bad you wouldn’t believe it…

The things I imagine doing to her would shock you…

I waited for the homicidal look in his eyes to fade before continuing.

“I figured I owed the girl, so I just kept an eye out on things – made sure she was settling in okay. It’s not easy starting a new school.” Shrugging, I added, “Didn’t want her getting any unnecessary shite.”

I was a sitting duck waiting for her brother to make the next move.

If Joey hit me, I wouldn’t hit back.

I wouldn’t retaliate.

That was the scary thing about this situation.

Sitting in his car, drunk off my ass, knowing that I was more than capable of beating the shite out of him, but knowing I wouldn’t.

Because of her.

Because he was important to her.

Because if I hit him, I would hurt her.

And hurting her was bad.

Hurting her made me want to hurt something harder.

That notion was more messed up and complicated than my drunk ass could comprehend.

Joey didn’t reply, but he did turn his attention to the road and start driving again.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

Turning to Gibsie, I mouthed the words keep your mouth shut.

He responded with a theatrical finger to mouth zipper motion.

When we reached the turn off to my house, half an hour later, I mumbled a few short directions.

Joey responded with a clipped nod and turned right, leaving the main road for the rickety secondary road that led to the entrance of the property.

I was feeling more clear-headed now – I guess the near brush with death at the hands of Shannon’s brother had shaken some sense into me and sobered my ass up.

I wished the same could be said for Gibsie, who was passed out beside me, snoring like a grizzly bear.

When Joey pulled up outside the gates of the property, I said, “We can get out here, man.”

“That’s where you live?” Shannon’s brother asked, speaking for the first time since the almost disaster that was our miscommunication.

His attention was riveted to the huge cast iron gates with the ugly ass eagles on either pillar.

“How far is it up that driveway to your house?” he asked.

“About a quarter of a mile.”

“You’ll never manage getting him to walk that far,” he muttered. “I’ll drive you up to the door.”

“310587,” I rolled out the code, which just so happened to be my date of birth. “Just key that into the pad over there and they’ll open for you.”

Joey keyed the code into the pad and waited for the gates to open inwards.

“Again, I appreciate this,” I felt the need to mention. “I know it’s out of your way.”

“Just returning the favor,” he replied, driving up the narrow laneway towards the house.

“This place is amazing,” Aoife said with a dreamy sigh. “Look at all the trees and – oh my god! Look at the size of that house,” she squeaked when the house came into view, lit up like a fucking Christmas tree.

Mam was paranoid as fuck about potential robbers thinking the house was empty so she had automatic sensors and timed lighting installed everywhere.

In the yard.

In the house.

On the lawn.

It was ridiculous but drunk me was grateful for the illumination.

Joey killed the engine and climbed out, adjusting his seat as far forward as it would go.

I was much steadier on my feet when I was getting out than I had been climbing in.

“Thanks again,” I said before reaching into the back and hauling sleeping beauty himself out of the car. “I owe you one.”

Wrapping an arm around Gibsie’s waist who was still half-asleep, I dragged him to the front door, and wrestled to get my keys out.

Failing to get them out of my jeans pocket, I dropped him on his ass, and battled with my jeans for a long moment before finally retrieving my keys.

“Stop, will ya, I’m sensitive,” Gibsie groaned before curling up, snoring resumed.

“Here,” Joey announced when I managed to stab the timber frame with the key, missing the keyhole by a good three inches. “Let me give you a hand.”

Grateful for the intervention, I handed over my keys and turned my attention to my friend.

“Get up,” I growled, nudging him with my foot. “We’re home.”

Fucker didn’t budge.

“Gibsie!” I barked.

Nothing but snores.

Goddammit.

Releasing a frustrated sigh, I reached down and grabbed his shoulders and tried to haul him off the ground.

Joey, who had the door open, came and helped me heave him up.

I was in no position to decline his help, so with each of us taking a side, we hauled his deadweight ass into the house.

“Drop him down in here,” I instructed, gesturing to the living room.

“You sure?” Joey asked, flicking on the light. “That couch is white, man.”

“It’s leather,” I muttered, too tired and sore to worry about my mother’s three-piece suite. Shuffling over to the couch, we tossed Gibsie down “If he pukes, he’ll be hosing it down by himself in the morning.”

“Fair enough,” Joey replied with a shrug before turning around and heading for the door.

I trailed after him, not really knowing what to say.

This night had gone from depressing to infuriating to downright confusing in a matter of hours.

“Listen,” Joey said when he stepped outside onto the gravel. “About Shannon.”

Here we go, I thought to myself.

I’d been waiting for this since I climbed into his piece of shit car.

Behave yourself, Kav, keep your mouth shut.

“What about Shannon?” I asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“She’s fragile,” he came right out and said. “Vulnerable.”

“Yeah.” My voice was gruff, so I cleared my throat and tried again. “I, uh, already guessed that.”

Joey nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets.

I kept my mouth shut, waiting for him to continue.

“What I’m trying to say here is that I appreciate you looking out for my sister,” he finally said. “She’s had a hard few years and Tommen seems like a good fit for her. So, I guess I’m hoping that you continue keeping an eye out for her at school –you know, making sure no one is giving her any hassle.”

My brows shot up. “Ah, yeah, sure. That’s no problem.”

He nodded again, his words coming out faster now. “She seems to be settling in at Tommen, and she keeps telling me the kids are nice to her, but I’m at BCS so I’ve no way to tell if she’s okay or not, and she never tells anyone what’s going on in that head of hers until it’s too late.”

I frowned. “Too late?”

“Bitchy girl shit,” he explained. “My sister has had a target on her back since she was in nappies.”

“That’s pretty messed up,” I muttered, already knowing all of this, but having the good sense to not tell her brother that.

“Kids are cruel,” he agreed.

“They sure are,” I muttered.

He stared at me for a long time before saying, “Are you going to tell me about it?”

Oh, Jesus.

What?

The fuck did he want me to tell him?

I racked my brain and came up with nothing PG so I kept my mouth shut.

“Ciara Maloney’s boyfriend,” Joey filled in, giving me an odd look. “Some fella from Tommen beat the shit out of him in town yesterday.”

“Oh?” I arched a brow and folded my arms across my chest. “Is that so?”

Joey smirked. “Yeah, it is.”

“Well, I hope he fucked him up,” I slurred, feeling my body thrum with anger at the memory of those nasty fucking girls. “Heard his girlfriend’s a bitch.”

“I heard he was in a bad way,” Joey replied. “Broken nose. A few stiches.”

“How awful,” I drawled.

Joey stared at me for another long pause before shaking his head. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I appreciate that my sister has someone looking out for her. When I can’t.”

He turned to leave only to spin back around.

“Friend.” His word held a bite to it. “My sister needs a friend, Kavanagh,” he clarified. “She doesn’t need to be getting her hopes up on a guy who’ll be gone come the summer.”

I heard his warning loud and clear.

My fucked-up brain might not heed the warning, but I definitely heard it.

Without another word, Joey turned around and walked away, leaving me standing in the doorway, staring after him with only two things on my mind.

The first: finding an icepack for my balls.

The second: fantasizing about all the terribly inappropriate things I longed to do with his sister.