Keeping 13: Boys of Tommen #2

by Chloe Walsh

  For the first time in almost eighteen years, I felt like I was standing at a pivotal crossroad in my life. I didn't need to ask myself which path I was going to take – my feet were already moving towards her – but I was conflicted because I knew the path was a short one. If my father and doctors were right, and I did manage to make it onto the team in June, then that meant I had two months left with her. Two months and I would be out of here. Come June, I would veer off that path.

  Suddenly, the prospect of the U2o's wasn't as appealing as before. The tunnel vision I had lived by my whole life, the one with only rugby in sight, was clouded and blurry now. Trying to do the right thing for my future and doing what was right for my present was the reason I felt so fucking torn up over this girl.

  I just wanted time with her. Away from her family and rugby. Away from everything. Just me and her. I wanted to hit pause on my life and just keep her. Strong words for a person my age, but I trusted my instincts and my gut. All of those were encouraging me, assuring me that I was dead on the money because this girl was the girl for me. The one I was supposed to keep. I could make my way through a mountain of pussy and it wouldn’t mean a thing because I had caught feelings for her.

  "Are you okay?" Shannon's voice cut through my thoughts and I shifted my gaze from the flames crackling in fireplace to her face. She was sitting with her back resting against the arm of the couch, buried beneath the blanket I had dumped on top of her hours ago. She had her arms hooked loosely around her knees and was looking at me expectantly.

  Unable to recall a word of what she had just said to me, I ran a hand through my hair and stretched. "Sorry, what was that?"

  "You got up to put coal in the fire an hour ago and you've been staring at the mantel piece ever since," she explained in that soft voice of hers. "The film's over, Johnny, and the telly's gone blank."

  "Shite, it has?" I looked around and noticed we were sitting in the darkness with only the fire illuminating the room. "Sorry. I must have zoned out."

  Shannon frowned in concern and I felt her foot stroke the side of my thigh. "Is it the medication you're taking?" Her voice was laced with sympathy, her toes stroking my thigh soothingly. "Does it make you drowsy?"

  "No, it's not the meds." It's the fact that I've spent days rehearsing what I want to say to you in my head and now I can't get the words out. "I don't know what happened to me." You happened to me, and now I'm completely fucked. "I'm just running on empty, I guess." Because we've been sitting here all night and still haven't addressed the elephant in the room. "Sorry, Shan."

  Whatever I said caused her to smile and I arched a brow. "Something funny about that?"

  "You called me Shan," she said, grinning.

  "Yeah…" I grinned back at her. "So?"

  "My friends call me Shan," she explained. "Well, the girls and Joey."

  "Am I not your friend?" I teased, shifting around to face her. "Or is that pet name reserved only for members of your inner circle?"

  "No, no, you are my circle," she blurted out and then grimaced. "I meant you're in my circle. In my circle – not are my circle." She dropped her head in her hands and groaned. "Ugh, I'm bad with people."

  Laughing, I reached under the blanket and snatched her foot. Fuck knows why I did it, but I had her bleeding foot in my hand now so I went with it. Gibsie was right; I had an issue with taking things that weren't mine. "Relax," I said, setting her foot down on my lap. "I know what you meant."

  Shannon's eyes flicked to where I was holding her foot on my lap, and I waited to see what she would do next.

  If she pulled back, I would let her. But she didn't.

  Instead she poked her other foot out from under the blanket and placed it on my lap with the other. Her eyes flicked back to mine, clearly waiting to gauge my reaction.

  I reacted by draping my arm across her legs and loosely clasping her knee, keeping my eyes on hers the entire time, watching for the smallest hint of anything that might look like doubt.

  "Can I ask you a question?" I plucked up the courage to say. When she nodded, I forced the words out. "How are you feeling…about me?"

  Her eyes widened. "About you?"

  "Yeah." I swallowed deeply. "About me."

  Shannon was silent for so long that I was afraid she wasn't going to answer me, but then she started to speak.

  "Sometimes I feel like I'm stranded," she confessed in a small voice, dropping her gaze to where I was holding her legs. "Like I'm stuck in the same place and I'm drowning." Clasping her hands together, she continued to speak, to gut me with her truth. "It's like I'm watching the water rising, and it's coming higher and higher. I can see it closing in on me, taking me under." Shivering, she bit down on her lip. "It's terrifying."

  "I bet," I replied gruffly, trailing my fingertips up and down her jean clad knee, unsure of what else to say, and terrified of saying the wrong thing.

  "And then you walk in and it recedes." Tipping her chin up, she looked me dead in the eyes and exhaled a shaky breath. "You show up and all the bad just…goes away for a little while."

  I could feel her eyes on me, and it caused a slow burn to ignite inside of me. My skin was hot, my body was coiled tight with frustration and excitement.

  I was so fucked.

  "That's how you make me feel," she whispered, blue eyes burning their way right down to my soul. "Better. Alive. Free. Safe. Important. I feel like I can breathe for the first time in days and that's only because you're here – because I’m with you." She grimaced then, like a painful thought had just come to her. "But I'm derailing your life," she added, voice small. "I've dragged you into my family's mess and I'm so sorry for that."

  Careful, Johnny.

  Be really fucking careful with your words here, lad.

  She was a closed book that I had miraculously managed to pry open. I wasn't about to make a mistake and have the pages closed in my face. "I can't remember how this started or when I got wrapped up in you to the point where I feel like I'm strangling in your grief," I finally said when words found me again. "But I know that I don’t ever want to go back to how it was before you."

  She was so strong, so resilient, and she didn't even know it. I couldn't imagine going through what she had and just getting back up again. But here she was, ready to put her trust in me, leaving her house this evening even though her father was still around. I mean, that had to fuck with her head, right? But she didn't let it take her down. The girl was the definition of fall down seven times and stand up eight. No matter what seemed to be thrown her way, she always dusted herself off, climbed back up on her feet, and tried again.

  "I'm just so tired of being here," she confessed in a small voice. "I'm trying, you know – to just get on with it. To not dwell, and to just be grateful, but I'm not grateful and I can't move on. I feel like I'm still trapped, and every day, I'm getting closer to the day where I won't be here anymore."

  I didn’t understand, so I wasn’t going to tell her that I did. I had no idea about what she was dealing with or how she was even coping. All I could say was, "I'm here." And I would be.

  "He's giving me rules, Johnny." Shannon scrunched up her nose, took a few shallow breaths, and then blurted out, "More rules. More laws –" she exhaled heavily and added, "More orders to obey."

  Yeah, I was going to lose it.

  Breathe, Johnny.

  Take a fucking breath, lad.

  It took me a moment to process what she had said, and many more to reign in my emotions and the sudden and desperate need I had inside of me to attack. "Darren?" I finally managed to ask.

  She nodded weakly. "And I know he has good intentions, but I'm just…I'm so done with being controlled." Shivering, she added, "When I woke up in that hospital bed, alive and breathing, I promised myself that I wouldn't let anyone control me like he had. I swore that I would never let that happen again."

  "You didn't let happen in the first place, Shan," I told her, voice hoarse. "It was out of your control."

&nbs
p; "That's the thing," she replied. "I'm sick of things being out of my control, Johnny."

  "Yeah." I sighed heavily. "I bet."

  "You know, I still remember how I felt the first time I took a shower in this house," she said then, smiling softly to herself. "I just stood in your bathroom for the longest time and listened."

  "To what?"

  "The silence."

  "Shan…"

  "It's hard to explain," she hurried to explain. "But I never wanted to leave that bathroom, because I felt safe – I feel safe with you." Shaking her head, she blew out a shaky breath and said, "and that's awful because it puts pressure on you."

  Reeling, I began to rack my brain for the words I knew I needed to put her mind at ease. To piece her back together again. I didn’t know. I just had feelings. Huge fucking feelings that were choking me and drowning me in a simultaneous pattern of addictive destruction.

  My walls had crumbled. Everything I had built up in my bid to protect myself from the girl I knew would take me down had disintegrated. "Nobody's making me do anything," I finally said, feeling at a loss. "You're in my house because I want you here."

  "Yeah?"

  "One hundred percent," I told her. "And that has nothing to do with anything other than the fact that I just want you here with me, Shannon."

  "Are you sure?" she whispered.

  "Listen," I said, turning my body to give her my full attention. "There's something you should know about me, and it's that I don’t do feelings fleetingly. I'm not a fleeting fucking anything – that's not how I work. So, when I tell you something, or when I do something, I mean it – I've thought it through. And I'm telling you that I want you here with me."

  Her mouth fell open, her pouty lips forming a perfect little O.

  "Yeah." I smirked, resisting the urge to reach over and tip her chin back up. "Oh."

  "Johnny?" she asked then, shimmying closer. "Can I ask you one more thing?"

  "Yeah–" the word came out all gruff and I had to clear my throat before trying again, "Yeah, Shan. You can ask me anything."

  "Are you ever going to kiss me?"

  Holy fuck.

  Keep the head, Kav.

  Keep your cool and do not scare her off.

  You've got her back, now keep her here.

  Don't lunge, lad. Hold it back…

  I took me a few seconds to process her words before I could speak. "Do you want me to kiss you?"

  "It would be nice to not have to make the first move and then run away." Her voice was barely more than a whisper and she ducked her face for the briefest of moments before looking back up at me, those blue eyes sucking me right in. "It would save me a lot of panicking," she added with a small shrug. "That's what I want – to not have to panic." She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before continuing, "To know where I stand with you."

  "I want to kiss you, Shannon." Ignoring the pain in my groin, I twisted my body around to face her. "I will kiss you," I amended, feeling all hot and flustered. "If that's what you want?"

  Shannon blew out a shaky breath. "Okay."

  I eyed her warily. "Okay."

  She remained perfectly still, eyes locked on mine, cheeks flushed, expression expectant?

  "What – like right now?" I asked, feeling a little fucking panicky at being put on the spot myself. "You want me to do it now?" Christ, I was making a hash of this. "I just thought you might, you know, want to talk some more."

  "I don't want to do any more talking, Johnny," she whispered. "I've done enough of that to last me a lifetime."

  "I just don't want to pressure you," I strangled out, hearing the nervousness in my own bleeding voice. "All the shite you've been through with your Da, and now Joey. And your Ma and her drama. And Jesus, your face is all hurt and sore, and your body–" I shrugged, at a complete loss. "I'm just…I think we should keep talking? Fuck, Shannon, I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you –"

  "Are you going to kiss me or not?" Shannon stunned me by asking.

  "I just…I don't…I'm trying…" My words broke off and I exhaled a pained sigh as I watched her watch me, those sucker-punching blue eyes wide and welcoming. "Fuck it –"

  Unable to take another second of this, I cupped the back of her neck, closed the space between us, and crushed my lips to hers.

  Moaning into my mouth, her hands moved to the front of my jumper, fingers knotting in the fabric as she tugged and pulled and encouraged me to come closer.

  Ah, fuck.

  Capturing her hands with mine, I repressed every fucked-up urge inside of me and just kissed her back, desperately trying to keep my cool and not push for too much. All I wanted to do was pick her up and wrap her body around mine, make a better angle for myself, but I couldn’t do any of that.

  Take it slowly, my brain, clouded by hormones, warned. Don’t fuck this up, lad.

  However, the minute I felt her tongue take a tentative swipe against mine, I knew I was completely fucked.

  I couldn’t take it.

  I honest to god couldn’t take the pressure in my chest. It caused a vital circuit attached to my self-control to crash and burn.

  My brain switched off and my body took over.

  My dick was sitting firmly in the driver's seat, and I was moving purely on instinct, kissing her back deeply, knowing there was a reason I needed to stop, but not finding the willpower to put the brakes on.

  My hands moved to tangle in her hair and her hands moved to my waist, pulling at my flesh and encouraging me to come with her as she fell onto her back. And Christ if I wasn't right there with her, diving in like a fucking maniac, desperate for the taste of her as our tongues dueled together for what was, without a doubt, the best kiss of my life.

  Kissing her was different because there were feelings involved.

  Big, huge, terrifying fucking feelings that I knew she felt, too.

  It was different because it mattered – because we mattered to each other.

  My body was burning up, partially from the agonizing pain that was made worse with every reckless thrust of my hips against hers, but mostly from sheer fucking excitement of having her hands on my skin.

  I felt like she had taken a knife to my chest, cut me right open, and every bit of me was bleeding into her.

  I was hard, painfully fucking hard, and not in the good way that could be relieved, but right now, it didn't matter.

  I didn't care if I was broken.

  I didn't even care if I burst a stitch.

  I didn't care about anything but the girl moaning and writhing on the couch beneath me.

  20

  A Crazy Fucking Amount

  Shannon

  Johnny told me to tell him what I wanted. It took me four hours to get the words out, and when I finally did, I stunned us both with my bluntness.

  The mortification I was feeling over how uncharacteristically forward I had been faded more and more with every thrust of his tongue as he kissed me deeply.

  I could hardly breathe, my lungs were screaming in protest, but I knew I would rather die than go up for air. I felt like I was starving for him and the emotions driving me forward were overwhelming.

  He was so much bigger than me, so much broader, and it thrilled me. The weight of his body on top of mine was too much and not enough all at the same time. Every time I thought I couldn't take the pressure, my hands dragged him down harder.

  Breaking the kiss, he pulled himself up on his elbow. "Are you okay? Am I too heavy?" His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his hard breathing mirroring mine. "Am I hurting you?"

  Reaching up, I snaked a hand around the back of his neck and tugged his face back down to mine. My hands were wrapped so tightly around his neck, I was sure I was cutting off circulation somewhere, but I couldn’t release him.

  I physically couldn’t let him go.

  I was frightened, unsure, and sore.

  And the only true thing I knew in this moment was that I trusted this boy.

  "
Don't talk," I begged. "Just keep kissing me." Clutching him like a lifeline, I locked my legs around his waist and begged, "Just stay with me."

  "Fuck…" He groaned deep in his throat. "I am." Exhaling a shaky breath, he pressed his lips to mine. "I'm staying." His lips brushed against mine as he spoke and the sensation caused a shiver of pleasure to roll through me. "And I'm so fucking with you," he whispered before sinking back down on me, pressing me deeper into the couch cushions, as he settled heavily between my legs.

  My breath hitched in my throat when his lips landed back on mine, hot and probing as he parted his lips and blew my mind with his skilled tongue.

  Closing my eyes, I tightened my legs that were around his waist, clinging to him for all I was worth. The move caused a pained growl to erupt from Johnny's chest. I knew I was hurting him and that I should let go, but I physically couldn't detangle myself from him.

  My body felt like it had attached itself to his and, short of a tornado blowing through the room, I doubted anything could pry me off him.

  He had one hand tangled in my hair and other clamped down on my hip, fingers flexing against my flesh every time I met his skillful thrust with a tentative one of my own. His hips were moving in a slow, drugging rhythm against my crotch, circling and rocking against me, making me ache and yearn for something hidden deep inside of me, something that with every brush of his lips and every stroke of his tongue, moved closer to my reach.

  "I just feel like we should have a conversation–" Johnny tried again, breathing hard against my lips. "About where we both stand." Resting his brow against mine, he lightly kissed me again before finishing, "Just so we're on the same page."

  "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?"