Keeping 13

by Chloe Walsh

  "Really?" I breathed, sliding my hands under the hem of his t-shirt and shivering when I was greeted with hot, toned flesh. I had to stifle a moan when I felt his abdominal muscles tighten and contract beneath my touch. "I, uh…I guess…" Distracted and overheated, I shook my head, desperately trying to clear my lust-filled thoughts. "Are you sure?"

  "No," he groaned, sounding pained and conflicted. "I just think that maybe we should?" He continued to rock against me as he spoke, angling those magic hips to cause maximum damage to my nerves. "Talk, that is." He stared hard at me for a long, strained beat before exhaling heavily. "About us." A huge tremor rolled through his powerful body. "Ah, fuck it –" and then he was back; kissing me, moving against me, making me shiver and tremble.

  We stayed like that for what felt like hours, fully clothed, just kissing and grinding, touching and whispering, until I honestly didn't have an ounce of energy left in my body.

  "You okay?" he whispered, nuzzling my cheek with his nose.

  Nodding, I sighed in contentment and flexed my fingertips against his waist, wanting nothing more than to keep him here with me forever. "Just tired."

  Burying his face in my neck, Johnny inhaled a deep breath before pulling back to kneel between my legs. A cold shiver swept through me at the sudden lack of contact. The fire was almost out now, only the rogue orange ember remained, and the night air was seeping into my bones.

  Leaning sideways, he grabbed his phone off the coffee table, knocking the empty pizza box over in the process. "Shite," he muttered, and turned the screen to face me. "It's half three in the morning." He flicked on the torch on his phone so we could see in the darkness before setting it back down on the table and climbing stiffly off the couch. "I didn't realize the time."

  I felt achingly shy as I pulled myself to my feet and watched him stretch his powerful arms over his head before shamelessly slipping a hand inside his sweatpants to readjust himself.

  "Do you want to go upstairs?" he asked, yawning sleepily. "There's like half a dozen spare rooms. I can set you up in one?"

  No, I want to stay with you.

  I shifted uncomfortably, moving from foot to foot. "I don't mind."

  "Do you want to stay down here with me?" he asked then, tone a little gruffer now. "Joey's in my room so I was just going to crash on the couch and I –"

  "With you," I croaked out, already nodding in agreement. "I'd rather stay with you."

  "Just to sleep," Johnny added, voice strained. "Okay?"

  "Okay."

  "Okay." Nodding to himself, he reached a hand behind his head and pulled both his hoodie and t-shirt off.

  I was glad of the darkness in this moment because I knew my cheeks were glowing bright red at the sight of him.

  He was so beautiful it hurt to look.

  All finely carved muscles and toned flesh…

  "I'm not getting any ideas, I promise," he told me as he pushed his sweatpants down and stepped out of them, leaving him standing in a pair of fitted boxers that were pitched at the front. "I just can't sleep in my clothes or I'll turn into a furnace."

  "O-okay." He wasn't going to get any complaints from me. "I understand."

  Riveted to the spot, I watched as he grabbed both his phone and the blanket and then climbed awkwardly onto the couch, wincing with every stiff movement until he was lying on his side against the back of the couch with the blanket covering his waist.

  "You coming?" he asked, holding the blanket with one hand and patting the space in front of him with the other.

  Gingerly, I lowered myself down to lie with my back to him.

  Johnny switched off the torch on his phone and tossed it on the floor before draping the blanket around our bodies. "Relax," he whispered, pulling me closer with the hand he had tucked under me. "We're just sleeping." He wrapped his other arm around me then, enveloping me in the tightest cocoon. "You're safe." I felt his lips brush against the back of my head and a shiver rolled through my body. "I promise."

  I curled both of my hands around his forearm and just held onto him, absorbing the feel of his body aligned with mine. The strength of him, his smell, his touch, the sound of his breathing… I devoured every second of this moment and locked it away in a treasure time capsule in the back of my mind, keeping it safe with all the others and praying I would have more to add to it. "Don't let go, okay?"

  "I won't," he promised, tightening his hold on me.

  I knew I was going to be in trouble tomorrow. When I got home it would be to stony faced expressions and heated lectures, but tonight I couldn't find it in my heart to care.

  Johnny trailed his hand over my side, back and forth, over and over, his touch featherlight.

  "How did it feel?" he asked, lips brushing against my earlobe as he spoke. His fingers lingered on my side. "That day?"

  I knew exactly what he was referring to; that day in the kitchen. "Um…" I closed my eyes and thought long and hard before I responded. "It felt…unfair."

  "Unfair?"

  I gave a small nod and tightened my hold on him. "Because I thought it was over and I wasn't ready for it to be."

  "It?"

  "My life."

  He sucked in a sharp breath. "It's not over, Shannon."

  "No." I clenched my eyes shut and battled down a surge of sadness, knowing in my heart that we were thinking two opposite things. "It's not."

  "I'm sorry this happened to you," he whispered. "I know that doesn't mean shit, and it's probably the worst thing I could say to a person in your situation, but I am." He buried his face in my neck and whispered, "I am so fucking sorry that you were given those people as parents."

  A traitorous tear slipped down my cheek, followed by another and then another after that. "I thought about you when it was happening," I confessed, biting down on my lip so hard I felt the familiar metallic taste in my mouth.

  "Me?"

  Nodding, I wiped my tearstained cheek against his forearm. "I knew what was happening to me, I knew I couldn't stop it, so I just thought up my happiest memory and clung to it."

  "What was it?"

  "You and me," I whispered, shivering. "Those things you said to me at the hospital. All those other times, too. I conjured you up in my mind and I concentrated on your face. I imagined your voice in my head and just kept you there – in my mind. Talking to me. Keeping me calm. Making me feel –" my breath hitched and I had to take a steadying breath before finishing, "safe."

  "Jesus, Shannon," he strangled out, gripping me even tighter. "You'll never know how badly I wish I had been there."

  Silence fell around us then, but it wasn't strained or tense.

  Instead, it was comforting.

  Deeply comforting.

  Johnny took his time to process what I had told him. He didn't bombard me with questions. He just stayed right there beside me, asking one question at a time and then giving himself time to process my response and me time to process my life.

  "All I remember is the constant shouting and fear of pain," I replied, several hours later, when Johnny asked about my early childhood. Dawn was breaking outside, illuminating the room in an eerie grayish hue, and neither of us had closed an eye. The light gradually pouring through the enormous windows helped me to see the freckles on his forearm, the scars on his knuckles, and the veins that seemed to just bulge from his taut, sun-kissed skin. "And that feeling in the pit of my stomach, the dread – it's the most familiar feeling I have. I almost feel like I'm not okay when I'm not worried. I'm not okay with feeling okay." I sighed heavily and concentrated on his fingers. He had long fingers, with rough and calloused fingertips and I couldn't stop touching them. "I'm constantly on edge, all the time, waiting for the sadness because that's what I'm used to – what I'm programed to feel, expect, and live with." Grimacing, I trailed my finger over the pad of his thumb and added, "Well, at least that's what Patricia and Carmel say."

  "Patricia, the social worker," Johnny said, remembering her name from one of his earlier questions, a
s he captured my hand in his and entwined our fingers, steadying me. "And Carmel is the…"

  "Counselor from the hospital," I filled in, stroking my nose against his arm. "Although, I've only met her twice and I'm not going back."

  The hand he had been trailing up and down my ribcage stilled. "Why not?"

  "Because I'm supposed to trust someone who is only there because she's being paid to listen to me? Someone who, once 5pm rolls by, doesn't give a damn about me or my brothers?" I shook my head. "No, no way."

  Johnny sighed and resumed his finger trailing. He was quiet for a long time before saying, "I think you should talk to someone about what happened in that house."

  "I just did," I whispered.

  "No, Shan, not me," he replied sadly. "A professional with the credentials to make a difference in your life."

  "There's no point," I whispered.

  "I think there is."

  "I think you're wrong."

  "What about Joey?" Johnny asked then, switching things up.

  I froze for a moment before twisting around to face him. "What did you say?"

  "I said what about Joey? Who's helping him?" Johnny asked, brushing his thumb over my cheek. "You said the kids are in counseling and doing play therapy. Your Ma's in her own trauma counseling and doing some fucked parenting course. Darren's doing whatever Darren does, and your piece of shit Da is on the run. But what about Joey? Is he seeing someone? If he is, then they need to find the lad a new therapist because he was all kinds of fucked up earlier."

  What about Joey.

  He asked about Joey!

  Three words that meant more to me than anything else he could have said in this moment.

  Pulling myself up on my elbow, I leaned over and pressed my lips to his.

  "Thank you," I whispered, pulling back to look at him.

  Johnny frowned in confusion. "For what?"

  "Asking the right questions."

  "Uh, no problem?"

  Something sparked to life in my head then, a question that had been torturing me for days. Rolling back onto my side, I resumed my holding of his arm while I fought to wrangle the courage to ask it. "Can I ask you another question?" I could hear the tremor in my voice, but I forced myself to not backpedal.

  "Of course." I heard him yawn behind me, felt the heat of his breath on my neck as he tightened his arms around me, snuggling into my back. "Ask away."

  Here it goes… "Why do you like me?"

  Johnny stiffened behind me. "Why do I…what?"

  "Like me," I filled in, my voice barely more than a whisper. "Why?"

  I needed to know. I didn't want him to think I was a charity case, or worse, be with me because he felt sorry for me. The prospect left a sour taste in my mouth.

  "Is this a…" His words trailed off and he slipped out from behind me, shifting into a sitting position on the couch. "Are you being serious?"

  I nodded, wishing I wasn't serious, wanting more than anything to play this off as a joke, but knowing I never could because the answer was too important to me. "Yeah." Pulling myself onto my knees, I turned to face him and said, "I need to know."

  "I don't just like you, I fucking –" Shaking his head, Johnny rubbed his jaw before looking back at me. "Shannon, I love you."

  I stopped breathing. "You love me?"

  He nodded slowly, blue eyes locked on mine. "Like a crazy fucking amount."

  "Really?"

  "Really," he confirmed. "And I'd ask your permission, but I didn’t even ask mine."

  "Oh…" I exhaled shakily and nodded. "Okay."

  Johnny arched a brow. "Okay?"

  "I just…I thought you were high when you said it that night," I blurted out, shifting closer until my knees brushed against his bare thigh. "I didn't think you meant it."

  "I was definitely high that night," he agreed, twisting around to face me. "And I definitely meant it that night."

  My heart galloped wildly. "You did?"

  "I love you," he went right ahead and rocked my world by saying again. "Present tense – as in I mean it now. And maybe I shouldn't be saying that – maybe I'm fucking everything up by telling you that when you're in the middle of your family stuff, but it's the truth." He shrugged helplessly. "I'm in love with you. I think I've been that way for a while now – a long fucking while, if we're being totally honest." Exhaling shakily, he added, "And that scares the shit out of me worse than the thought of not making the U20's. You scare me more than anyone I've ever come up against on a pitch."

  "Wow." I released a shaky breath. "I can't believe you just said all that."

  "I know." He looked a little sick when he said, "Dick move, huh?"

  "I love you back," I blurted out, feeling a flood of heat rush through my body. "Like a crazy fucking amount," I added, giving his words back to him.

  "Yeah?" Johnny's smile was a breath-taking, full dimpled one, and it took the air clean out of my lungs. "Really?"

  I nodded solemnly. "It's true."

  Still smiling, he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, and said, "And going back to your earlier question, I like you because you're you, Shannon. I've never met another girl like you."

  I scrunched my nose up. "You mean another girl as screwed up as me."

  "No, I mean a girl as kind, and caring, and trustworthy, and loyal as you," he countered gruffly. "And beautiful? Jesus Christ, you are so fucking beautiful that it's painful to look at you. I've never seen anything like you in my life."

  I felt like melting into the couch. "Johnny –"

  "No, no, just let me get this out before I lose my nerve, okay?" he hurried to say, sounding flustered.

  I snapped my mouth shut and nodded.

  Exhaling another shaky breath, Johnny continued, "It's like you see me – and I see you. Christ, I think you saw through me that very first day on the pitch at school, because I sure as hell haven't been the same since, Shannon. You don't give a shite about rugby. It never fazed you and that threw me because I'm not used to that. I'm not used to having someone want me for…well, for me – but you did. And you took the time to notice me. To see things that no one else was seeing – things I didn’t want to acknowledge to myself." He ran a hand through his hair and slumped, his broad shoulders bowing. "And I was scared, Shannon. I was so fucking afraid of how I felt for you. I still am. You scare the absolute shite out of me – for reasons I'm still not entirely sure of, because in all honesty, I don’t know what the fuck is happening here. My head is in pieces and I'm so far out of my comfort zone that I feel like I'm balancing on thin ice, but I know that there's no other person I would willingly put myself out there for like I have with you." He shrugged helplessly. "Like I'm doing right now."

  "Johnny, I –" I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I couldn't speak. I felt like I was drowning in my feelings. I knew that I was drowning in him. "I…"

  "And I know what you're thinking," he added, sounding agitated. "You think I'm sticking around because of your Da. You think I feel sorry for you."

  My breath hitched in my throat. "No."

  "You little liar." Leaning closer, he cupped my cheek with his big hand and pressed his forehead to mine. "I can read you like a book."

  "Yeah," I admitted. "Kind of."

  "Well, you're wrong." His breath fanned my face as he spoke, making me feel lightheaded. "I want you because you drive me fucking crazy. And yeah, I'm not going to lie, I feel sorry for you," he added gruffly. "I'd be a cold-hearted bastard if I didn't, but that's got nothing to do with why I want to be with you. I'm sticking around because I need you."

  My heart beat so fast I feared it would burst. "You need me?"

  "You think it's the other way around, but it's not," he told me. "I need you, too, because you calm something inside of me. You make me feel good. Like I don't have to…" his voice trailed off for a moment as he clearly pondered what he was trying to say. "You make me feel like I'm enough as I am," he finally admitted. "Like if this is the furthest I go, if
I don't make the squad, then it's okay."

  "You are enough," I breathed, wrapping my hand around his neck. "Just as you are right now." Desperate to comfort him, I hitched a leg over his and scrambled onto his lap, knowing I shouldn't, he was still healing, but not having the self-control to stop. "You're so good," I told him, knotting my fingers in his hair and pulling him closer to me. "You're such a good person, Johnny Kavanagh, and you don't even know it. You don't see how little rugby has to do with how special you are. But I do. I see it, and I know."

  "See?" He clamped his hands on my hips and exhaled shakily. "You say it and I believe you."

  "Because it's true," I strangled out, breathing hard and fast. "I just…god, you have no idea how lovely you are."

  "What do you need from me, Shannon?" he croaked out, voice thick and husky. "I'll give you anything you need, baby." Shaking his head, he groaned like he was in pain. "I just…I want to make you happy."

  "You," I whispered. "All of you."

  "I'm already yours," he groaned, before covering my lips with his.

  My heart hammered hard in my chest and my body ached and pulsed. It was a deep aching inside of me that only he could sate. In fact, I was fairly sure I would never sate the need I had to just be with him. Closing my eyes, I held onto his arms and kissed him back, drowning in the sensations ripping through me.

  Maybe Darren was right and I was in too deep, but I couldn't find it in my heart to care.

  Everything inside of me was swept up in him, and I couldn't see beyond it – I couldn't think beyond the surge of feelings I had for him. Even my brain, the part of me that was supposed to heed caution, was encouraging me to be reckless with my heart; to throw it all in with this boy and trust him not to break me.

  And I was all in.

  21

  Tears, Threats, and Teapots

  Johnny

  I knew I was in trouble before I even opened an eyelid.

  The tone of my mother's voice as she screamed my name from the rooftops was proof of that. "Jonathon Kavanagh!" Her voice cut through the silence, followed by high heels clicking on tiles. "You better come out from wherever you're hiding and explain what the hell is going on!"