by Chloe Walsh
Jesus, even your mother can see through you…
"It's completely natural to want to experience pleasure with a partner," Mam continued to say, ignoring my pleas. "When you're both old enough to fully understand the act of love."
"Jesus Christ," I groaned. "Please stop."
"But, I know how these things can go. Not everyone waits no matter how important it is to wait –" she paused to glare knowingly at me, "When it happens – which I hope is a long, long time from now– then it is necessary to use a condom," she pressed. "Do you know how to roll one on properly, love? Did your father explain how it works? You need to make sure the shaft of your private part is–"
"I can't hear this," I groaned in despair. "Seriously, Ma."
"Sex in real life is nothing like what happens in those blue movies Gerard gives you," Mam continued. "It's important to know that a woman has needs. In real life, girls don’t all scream and carry on like porn stars. And you need to respect a girl's body at all times –"
"Please." I pressed my fists into my eye sockets so hard I was seeing stars. "Just stop."
"I'm trying to help you, love, so you know what to expect."
"I know what to expect, Ma," I groaned while I contemplated on bathing in bleach. "I'm not a bleeding kid."
My mother's head snapped towards me, eyes wide. "So you're not a…"
"No, Ma." I dropped my head in my hands and fought back the urge to fucking cry. "I'm not a virgin."
"Oh, dear… okay. That's okay, love. That's perfectly fine," she rambled, tone forced. "I just presumed that since you've never brought a girl home before now, or talked about girlfriends, that you weren't pursuing any love partners –"
"Keep talking and I'm going to jump out a window," I warned her. "I'm not messing around. I will go upstairs and hurl myself off the fucking roof."
"I know it's uncomfortable, but you can talk about these kinds of things with me, son," Mam urged. "I was a teenager once upon a time, too, you know," she added, reaching over to pat my shoulder. "I understand all the urges your body is going through, and a female perspective can be helpful."
"How is any of this helpful?" I choked out, horrified. "I thought you loved me."
Mam laughed softly. "Of course, I love you."
"Then why are you doing this to me?" I choked out. "Why are you meddling in my life?"
"Because, I'm not blind, Johnathon," Mam replied, full-naming me to let me know how serious she was about this. "I see the way you look at Shannon, and the way she looks at you."
"We are just friends," I bit out.
"You're in love."
My jaw fell open. "We are bleeding not."
The look my mother gave me was one of disbelief. "Are you taking things at her pace?"
"I'm serious, Ma," I snapped. "We're just friends. I haven't touched her."
Mam visibly sagged in relief.
"So, you didn’t do, uh, let's call it the deed, with Shannon –"
"Jesus Christ, no, Ma!" I barked, interrupting her before she caused permanent trauma to my brain.
"Oh, that's good," my mother breathed. "You're a good boy."
A good boy?
Was I a bleeding dog?
And there was nothing good about what I wanted to do to Shannon Lynch.
"Thanks for automatically assuming that I'm a bastard though, Ma," I snarked. "I really appreciate the lack of faith my own mother has in my moral compass."
"Well, you drop the bomb that you're not a virgin on me the same day you bring your girlfriend home," Mam huffed. "The first girl I have ever seen you with, may I add. What am I supposed to think? I was trying to prepare you for the future."
"First, for the last bleeding time, Shannon is not my girlfriend," I snapped, flustered. "Second, I haven't been a virgin since first year. And third, I can roll a condom on in the dark with one hand tied behind my bleeding back, so I don’t need the sex talk, or tips, or any of that shite."
Mam gasped in horror and I mentally kicked the shite out of myself.
"I'm lying," I coddled her. "I am a virgin."
"First year," she sobbed. "First year!"
"No, no, no," I hurried to assure her. "I'm a virgin, Ma. I am."
"No," she wept, shaking her head. "You're not."
What the fuck was I supposed to do now?
Christ, where was my Dad when I needed him?
"You were only fourteen in first year," she continued to wail.
"Thirteen," I muttered under my breath as I held her to my chest and patted her back.
"Holy Mary Mother of God," she sobbed harder, clearly hearing me.
Shit.
Balls.
"I am a virgin," I continued to say over and over while my mother cried into my school jumper. "I'm saving myself for marriage, Ma."
"It's the rugby," she sobbed, fisting my jumper. "I blame the bleeding rugby for this."
"For what?"
"For you losing your innocence!" Mam hissed. She looked up at me and then burst into another bout of tears. "Those boys you play with, they're too old for you and obviously led you astray."
No, Ma, my dick led me astray when puberty kicked in...
"And she's in your bedroom," Mam wailed, dropping her head against my chest again. "Oh, dear god."
"Because you brought her here, Ma, not me," I replied as I continued to rub her back. "Let's say, for argument's sake, that I was with Shannon? Which I'm not," I quickly clarified. "But if I was and you were worried about me getting up to no good, then why in the hell would you bring her over here?"
"Because I was still under the impression that you were a virgin when I brought her over here, wasn't I?" Mam huffed, slapping my chest. "I thought you were having your first crush. I thought I was catching you in time."
Fair point.
"Ma, I'm almost eighteen," I tried to comfort her by saying. "You were married to Da by the time you were eighteen."
"That's different," she sobbed.
"How?"
"Because you're my baby," Mam sniffled. "Oh, god, my baby is sexually active."
"No, I'm not," I coaxed, hugging her. "I promise, I am not having sex." Right now. "I'm not, Ma."
"Are you at least being safe?" she choked out, looking up at me with big, tear-filled, brown eyes.
"I'm playing bleeding PlayStation with the girl," I strangled out. "Shouldn’t that tell you how safe I'm being?"
"That's true." Mam nodded and sniffled.
I sighed. "Thank you."
"So, I don’t have to worry, do I?" she added. "Being safe?" She sniffled. "Using –oh, dear god, condoms –"
"No, Ma, you don’t have to worry because I am not having sex," I stuck to the story by saying, and pulled her back to my chest. "So just relax."
How the hell did I get myself into this situation?
What was my life coming to?
In the space of one day, I had upset no less than three females.
The one that created me by telling her that I was no longer an innocent.
The one that used me by telling her via text message to fuck off.
And the one that blew my fucking mind.
Jesus Christ, my dick had a lot to answer to.
To be fair, I didn’t think I actually upset Shannon today, but it was still early, and I was running on some serious shitty luck, so my chances of making it out of this glorified playdate without fucking up was slim.
"Ma," I said after a solid ten minutes of her sniffling on my chest. "I'm going to have to go back up to Shannon now."
"Okay, love," she sniffled. "You won't do anything–"
"No, Ma," I coaxed, freeing myself from her hold and standing up. "I won't lay a finger on her because we are just friends, and I am a virgin."
"I know you're not," she croaked out. "But I'm trusting you to do the right thing."
"You can trust me, because nothing is happening between us," I repeated for the millionth time. "But I need to take a shower because I'm fucking soaked,
so I'm going to use your bathroom, okay?" I moved for the door only to turn back and say, "Call me when it's time to pick up your demented dogs."
"About that," Mam sniffled.
"You lied, didn’t you?" I gave her an accusing glare. "You don’t have to pick Bonnie and Cupcake up at all tonight, do you?"
Of course, she lied.
One look at her sheepish expression and it was plain to see.
"You meddler," I accused.
"You sexer," Mam shot back in a tone as equally accusing.
For fuck's sake.
I wasn’t going to win here.
Holding my hands up in defeat, I hurried out of the kitchen before she drowned me in a fresh batch of tears.
46
The consequences of kissing boys in bedrooms
Shannon
Just like the last time I showered in Johnny's glorious bathroom, I took a crazy amount of time.
I couldn’t help myself.
I blamed the jets.
And his body wash.
And the smell of him.
God, I was losing my mind.
When I finally climbed out of the tub, I wrapped myself up in one of the huge, fluffy, white towels hanging on his rack and sighed when the luxurious fabric grazed my skin.
Johnny would never understand how lucky he was to grow up in a home like this, with parents like his, and towels this soft.
For a long time, I just stood there in the middle of his bathroom, listening to absolutely nothing.
No screaming voices.
No stomping footsteps.
No rattling door handles.
No feelings of impending doom.
Just peace.
When the cold finally got the better of me, I dried myself off and slipped my bra back on.
Wearing a bra was a waste of time considering I didn’t have much to conceal and what I did have were perky and stayed up on their own.
They certainly didn’t match up to the breasts those models on his bedroom wall displayed proudly…
However, ten seconds into wearing my bra, I was quickly yanking it back off with a shudder.
It was soaked right through, along with my underwear.
I spent an inordinate amount of time folding my underwear into the tiniest ball I could before wrapping my bra around them.
Embarrassed that I didn’t have my schoolbag to tuck them inside of, I stood like a fool in the middle of his bathroom, panicking.
Logic told me I was being silly, but the thought of Johnny seeing my underwear made me feel a little faintish.
Giving up, I decided to tuck them in my balled-up school tights before wrapping myself in a towel and heading back to his room.
This time, when I stepped out of the bathroom, I was prepared for Sookie and found her snoozing on the bed.
I was not, however, prepared for the sight of Johnny's naked ass.
He was standing in front of his chest of drawers with his back to me, a towel on the floor at his feet, and was in the process of pulling a pair of boxers up his thighs.
God, he even had muscles on his ass.
How was that even possible?
And then Johnny glanced over his shoulder and caught me red-handed.
"Like what you see?" he teased, arching his brow.
"Oh, god," I squeaked and then tore my gaze away from his round, tight ass. "I'm so sorry." Spinning around, I bit down on my lip and forced back a moan. "I didn’t expect anyone to be in here."
"It's fine, Shannon," he laughed. "Don’t worry about it."
Let me die.
Dear God, open the ground and let me fall through it.
"I, uh…" Shaking my head, I tightened my grip on my towel. "It's…uh–"
"I had a shower in my parents' ensuite," Johnny explained. "I was just coming to grab some clothes."
"Oh." I blew out a ragged breath and shifted from foot to foot. "Okay, yeah, that makes sense."
"It's okay, Shannon," Johnny said in a gentle tone. "Everything's fine."
"I know that," I blurted out, panicked.
He chuckled softly. "Then why are you still facing the wall?"
Dammit.
Inhaling a steadying breath, I swung around and faced him.
My gaze automatically swept over him and my heartrate spiked.
For once, Johnny's face wasn’t the reason for my rapid pulse.
Nope, that was down to the rest of him.
The almost naked rest of him.
He was wearing a pair of tight, white boxer shorts and that was it.
No shirt.
No pants.
No jumper.
No socks.
Just a pair of Calvin Klein's that hung low on his V indented hips – identical to the pair that I had worn of his last week.
The pair I had been sleeping in for nights.
God, I was pathetic.
Everything I had imagined from the moment I laid eyes on him was right in front of me.
And with this unobstructed view came the realization that both my imagination and my visual memory sucked.
I already knew he had a nice body.
I remembered his chest from that day.
Or at least I thought I had.
Apparently not, because Holy Mary Mother of God, up close, he was something else.
His chest was bare and his pectorals were toned, his stomach was ripped.
I mean, he was seriously ripped.
Not like the six-pack my brother sported or any of the lads I'd seen swapping jerseys after Joey's matches.
His entire body was a solid mass of hardcore, chiseled muscle.
I held my breath as I allowed my eyes to wander over him, absorbing the sight of rippled abs, sun-kissed, golden skin, the dark trail of hair under his navel, and that amazing way he smelled.
Like soap and grass and Johnny.
It wasn’t fair to give this much beauty to one person.
They could have spread it out across the entire school and he'd still be perfect.
"What happened here?" Johnny asked then, distracting me from my ogling, as he stalked over to where I was standing and stroked his thumb across my cheek.
Confused and frazzled, I let out a shaky breath and looked up at him. "Huh?"
"You have a red mark," Johnny mumbled, frowning down at me. "I didn’t notice it earlier."
My brows rose up. "I do?"
He nodded, blue eyes locked on mine. "Yes, Shannon, you do."
Slipping around him, I padded into the bathroom to check in the mirror.
Sure enough, my right cheek was red and blotchy where the rest of me was milk bottle pale.
That would be my father's backhand, I thought to myself.
"Well?" Johnny asked, leaning in the doorway.
I leaned forward, stretching over the sink to get a better look in the mirror.
Johnny walked over to where I was standing.
And then he proceeded to hover behind me, his bare chest rubbing against my back, as he stared at my reflection in the mirror, face set in a deep frown.
I didn’t think he realized he was doing it – brushing his body against mine.
His focus had moved from my cheek to my neck.
His expression was dark, face turning a dark shade of purple.
"What the fuck is this?" he hissed.
I followed his gaze to the faint purplish finger prints lining my neck.
Awareness dawned on me.
My Dad.
Last night.
Oh, god.
"I don’t know," I replied, feigning confusion, deciding it was safer to stick to the original story.
If I backpedaled now, Johnny would smell a rat.
"You don’t know?" he asked quietly, eyes locked on mine in the mirror.
Shaking my head, I let my shoulders fall. "No idea."
"Is someone hurting you, Shannon?" he asked in a deathly quiet voice.
"No one is hurting me, Johnny," I whispered, eyes glued to his in
the mirror.
My heart was racing so hard I feared it might burst.
It was a terrible concoction of fear, uncertainty, and lust all rolled into one complicated ball of emotions in the pit of my stomach.
Reaching up with one hand, Johnny cupped my chin and used his free hand to gently sweep my hair off my neck.
He didn’t ask permission if he could touch me.
He just did it.
Then his fingers were tracing the fingerprints left by my father, his featherlight touch making my entire body tremble.
"Someone touched you," Johnny whispered in my ear, placing his fingers on the marks. "I want to know who."
The air escaped my lungs in an audible gasp.
Unable to stop myself, I sagged against his chest, eyes glued to our reflection in the mirror as he stared right back at me, blue eyes scorching holes in my soul, waiting for an explanation I could never give him.
"Tell me who put their hands on you," he coaxed, as he stood behind me, my face in his hand and his fingers on my throat. "And I'll make it better."
Think, Shannon, think…
"Well?"
Hurry the hell up…
"Shannon?"
"I got smashed up in P.E," was all I came up with.
Johnny didn’t respond.
He just continued to stare at my neck with a dark expression.
Panicking, I hurried to add to my lies, "It was my fault. I got in the way of the boys during soccer and four of them ended up crashing into me."
Slipping around Johnny, I walked back into his bedroom, putting some space between us.
"I ended up on the bottom of a pile-up. Happened just before you came in." Shaking my head, I forced a small laugh. "It was total carnage."
Johnny hovered in the bathroom doorway, expression tight, eyes sharp and intelligent.
"So, one of the lads in your class's hand just so happened to land on your neck?" he asked, tone laced with disbelief. "His fingers just so happened to squeeze your throat?"
This one's nobody's fool, I thought to myself. Lie better, Shannon.
"It didn’t feel like that at the time." I gave him a weak shrug and sat down on the edge of his bed. "But I guess that's what happened."
"You guess?" he repeated, folding his arms across his chest.
The movement caused his huge biceps to bulge.
He was seriously huge.