Binding 13: Boys of Tommen #1

Shannon was in my car again.

So much for not bulldozing.

They might as well slap a JCB sticker on my forehead and switch on my hazards, I seemed to do so much of it around this girl.

And I was nervous – so much that my stupid fucking heart could have been a strong contender for Olympic gold in boxing, it was thumping around so hard in my chest.

Fucking Bella.

She needed to get a bleeding life and stop interfering in mine.

She needed to step the hell back and let go.

Messing around with Shannon was something I would not tolerate.

I hoped she got that message loud and clear today, because I was not fucking around.

Not when it came to the girl sitting beside me.

“Are you warm enough?” Blasting the heater in her face probably wasn’t my brightest idea, but I didn’t know what to do.

I had zero experience with the fucked-up workings of the female body.

I only knew about the fun parts.

Already, I had forced my hoodie over her head and shoved tablets down her throat in my pathetic attempt to help.

I wanted to make her better.

I wanted to make it right.

In whatever way she needed me to do it.

I just didn’t know how.

Whatever she needed from me, I was more than willing to provide.

That was a sobering thought.

Jesus Christ, I’d opened myself up to danger with this girl.

“I’m okay,” Shannon replied as she settled into the passenger seat of my car.

She pulled her long brown hair out from the collar of my hoodie and draped it over her shoulder.

“Thanks again,” she added shyly. “I promise I’ll give this one back to you.”

“No problem.” Clenching my jaw, I forced myself to keep my eyes on the road and not on the way her skirt was hidden beneath the hem of my hoodie and how high said hoodie rode up her bare thighs when she was sitting. “Keep it.”

“Sorry?”

“The hoodie.” Clearing my throat, I tightened my hand on the wheel to keep myself from doing something reckless. “Hang on to it.”

“Why?”

I could feel her blue eyes on me, I knew that sounded thick, but I could, and the sensation caused my arms to break out in goosebumps.

I shrugged. “Because it looks good on you.”

Johnny, you bleeding eejit!

“Are you feeling better?” I hurried to ask – and distract. “Did the ibuprofen help?”

I glanced over at her and bit back a groan.

She was so fucking beautiful it was painful, with those big blue eyes staring back at me all innocent and full of uncertainty.

I didn’t need the temptation that came with being this close to her.

Problem was, every time she ran, I found myself chasing right after her, desperate to just be with her.

“I’m okay, Johnny,” she replied in a small voice. “You’ve helped me.” She smiled shyly. “Again.”

I snapped my gaze back on the road and fought to get my body under control. “It’s no problem.” I had no idea what this girl was doing to me, but I was burning the hell up. “Anytime.”

“I like your music,” Shannon said then, giving me a welcome distraction from my wayward thoughts. “You have good taste.”

“Go on,” I encouraged when her fingers fluttered towards the stereo. Reaching over, I snatched my iPod that was attached to my stereo off the dashboard and handed it to her. “Find something you like.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, voice small and uncertain.

I nodded and smiled, trying to reassure her.

It must have worked because she whispered, “I love them all,” as she began to flick through track after track. “You have amazing taste.”

“Thanks.” I shifted uncomfortably, feeling a weird tingling sensation in the pit of my stomach. “I like good music.”

Spending countless hours working out alone gave me the opportunity to broaden my taste.

“Me, too,” she agreed. “And your music is epic.”

It wasn’t that I wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of compliments.

It was just that they usually revolved around rugby.

Shannon clearly wasn’t impressed or fazed by my role.

It was both a relief and a worry.

I didn’t know how to handle that.

She was confusing the shite out of me.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a Beatle’s fan,” Shannon mused, stopping on an old number. “Here Comes the Sun?” she questioned, brow arched. “You like this one?”

“It’s my favorite one of theirs,” I told her, palms sweating under her scrutiny.

“Me too,” she said softly. “My Great-Granda Murphy used to sing this to me when I was little.”

I glanced over at her. “Yeah?”

Shannon nodded in confirmation. “Yeah, whenever I got scared or nervous, he would always sit me on his lap and sing those lyrics in my ear.” She sighed contently. “And it always worked.”

For some unknown reason, I made a mental note of that piece of information and stored it away for future reference.

Shannon was silent then, clearly immersed in the song.

Meanwhile, I held the steering wheel with a death grip, desperately trying to concentrate on the road ahead and not the girl sitting beside me, fucking up my well laid plans.

“Do you have an iPod?” I asked when I pulled up outside her house – her actual house this time.

I was stalling, not wanting her to get out of my car.

The pang of disappointment I felt when we reached our destination was the same one that consumed me every time she left, and that was incredibly disconcerting.

“I could put some of my music on it for you?” I offered. “If you’d like?”

“Me?” Shannon blushed bright pink and shook her head. “Uh, no, I could never afford one of those.” She unfastened her seatbelt. “I use an old CD discman of Joey’s to listen to music.”

I nodded nonchalantly while mentally kicking the shite out of myself for being so dense.

“You like the classics?” I blurted, feeling all panicky when she reached for the door handle.

“Yes,” she replied, turning back to face me, eyes bright with excitement. “Do you?”

“I like a lot of stuff,” I told her.

You, most of all.

“Shake it off baby?”

My brows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“Shake it off baby.” Shannon stared back at me all innocent and cute. “Do you like it?”

It took me a few seconds to realize she wasn’t calling me baby and that she was referring to a song.

“You mean Twist and Shout,” I corrected gruffly. “Yeah, that’s a good one.”

“Do you like Reckless Kelly?” she asked then.

I shook my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of them.”

“They have this new song out called Wicked Twisted Road,” she explained. “Are you sure you haven’t heard it?”

My heart stopped in my chest.

That song from the pub.

The one that fucked with my head.

Jesus…

“You should,” Shannon continued to say. “Listen to it, I mean.” Her cheeks turned pink when she said, “It reminds me of you.”

Rattled.

I was thoroughly fucking rattled by this girl.

Partially because I had related to the words of that song, but mostly because she related the words of the song to me.

Her red lips and rosy cheeks were fucking beautiful and I had to take a moment before I could form a coherent sentence and not sound like a fucking eejit.

“I’ll do that,” was all I came up with.

“Well, thanks for saving me,” she whispered. Her eyes darted from my eyes to my mouth several times before she leaned over and pressed her lips to my cheek. “Again.”

It was the smallest, briefest, non-sexiest peck, but it had come from her lips and that changed everything.

Just like last night had changed everything.

It deepened everything I had been desperately trying to deny.

The signs I had been hiding from.

They shot up like neon posters on the sides of buildings.

I was so fucking thrown off kilter by this girl.

Stunned, I could do nothing but stare at her and mutter the words, “You’re welcome.”

With glowing red cheeks, Shannon pushed the car door open and moved to climb out.

“Wait!” I regrettably called out, snaking a hand out and catching her wrist.

Shannon looked at me with wide eyes.

Let her go, asshole.

Let the girl go.

You can’t do right by her.

“Here –” Reaching into the glove compartment, I pulled out a leather case and quickly flicked through a bunch of mix CDs, stopping when I found the one I wanted, “Listen to track nine.” I practically shoved the CD into her hand and shrugged, “Reminds me of you.”

“Oh, okay,” she replied, holding the CD carefully. “I will.”

“Good.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Bye, Johnny,” she whispered before quickly closing the door and hurrying away.

“Bye, Shannon,” I replied gruffly, watching her every move as she walked away from me.

Trouble.

I was in so much fucking trouble.

I drove the whole way home on autopilot with my brain reeling, my hormones raging, and life throwing a tiny, brown-haired plot twist in my path.

I was so consumed in my thoughts that it wasn’t until I parked up in my usual spot out back that I noticed her schoolbag was still in my car.

Groaning, I slapped my head on the wheel and prayed for an intervention.

I needed one.

Because this girl was going to ruin me.

Half an hour later, I was standing outside Sha

nnon’s front door with sweaty palms and a racing heart.

What the hell was I doing here?

This was madness.

Put the schoolbag down and walk the fuck away, the sensible part of me instructed.

But of course, I didn’t listen.

No, because I had to knock instead.

The sound of footsteps pattering on the staircase came from the other side of the door followed by a key twisting in the lock, and then she was there, standing in front of me, obliterating any notion of walking away.

“Hi, Johnny,” Shannon said in a breathy voice, staring up at me all wide-eyed and lethal. “You’re back.”

Yeah, I was back.

Like a bad fucking smell that seemed to follow her around.

“Uh, yeah, I’m back.” Shaking my head, I pulled her bag off my shoulder and held it out for her. “You forgot this in my car again.”

“I’m so sorry.” She blushed the most adorable shade of pink. “Were you knocking for long?” She reached for her bag and then heaved it into the house. “I was in the shower.”

Yeah, I could tell.

Her long hair was loose, flowing down her body in damp curls, she was wearing a white vest and the tiniest pair of pajama shorts I’d ever seen in my life and all my brain could register was bare skin – way too much bare skin.

“Don’t be sorry,” I said gruffly, trying to focus on my words and not my wayward thoughts. “And no, I just got here.”

“Well, thanks for bringing it back to me,” Shannon said, dragging my attention back to her face. “I didn’t even notice. I would have been in a major panic in the morning.”

“Again, it’s no bother,” I replied and then proceeded to stare at her like a fucking tool.

Well, this wasn’t awkward at all.

Move your feet, Johnny.

Leave the girl alone.

“Do you have training this evening?” she asked.

Yes.

“No.”

“Do you want to come inside?” she offered nervously.

My brows shot up. “Inside?”

She bit down on her bottom lip and shrugged.

She looked unsure.

Like she shouldn’t be inviting me into her house.

“Do you want me to come inside?” I asked with a frown.

She nodded shyly and opened the door inwards. “If you want to?”

Don’t do it, lad, my brain warned, don’t put yourself in temptation’s way.

Against my better judgment, I stepped inside.

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I watched as Shannon quickly locked the door again.

I focused my attention on her and not my dilapidated surroundings.

The place was tidy, but the walls badly needed re-plastering and a fresh lick of paint.

“There won’t be anyone home until evening time,” she announced as she led me through the short hallway and into the kitchen.

That was not good information.

Not good at all.

“Would you like a can of Coke?” Pulling open the fridge, she retrieved two cans and smiled. “Joey’s addicted and he always buys the real brand stuff.”

She held a can out to me and I shook my head.

“I can’t drink that,” I replied, and then felt like a tool when her smile fell.

“Oh.”

“I want to,” I quickly assured her. “But I’m in training.”

“Oh, yeah,” she mumbled, placing one of the cans back in the fridge. “I forgot about the rugby thing.”

I bit back a smile. “Yeah, the rugby thing.”

She stared up at me then, looking as unsure as I felt.

“Do you want to come up to my room?”

My brows shot up – matching the sudden spike in my heart rate. “Your room?”

Blushing, she tucked her hair behind her ear, and hurried to say, “It’s just that I don’t normally stay down here …I mean I do, but I don’t…because…I….” Her voice trailed off and she sighed heavily. “Never mind, it was a stupid–”

“Okay.”

Her eyes widened. “Okay?”

I nodded. “Lead the way.”

I waited until Shannon had turned around before slapping the heel of my hand against my forehead.

I was so fucking stupid.

This was worse than coming inside.

This was wrong.

I knew it was.

And still, I followed her up a narrow staircase, avoiding rogue Legos and stepping over children’s toys on the ascent.

The bedroom Shannon led me into at the front of the house was a glorified box room.

She stepped around me, which wasn’t easy in small quarters, and turned the lock on her door before walking the four steps it took to reach her bed.

Meanwhile, I stood like a tool in her tiny bedroom, not knowing what the hell I was supposed to do now.

The single bed pushed against the far side of the room took up the entire width of the wall. There was a bedside locker next to it, a chest of drawers shoved against the opposite wall, and not a lot else.

“It’s a small house for a family of eight,” Shannon acknowledged quietly, noticing my staring. She set her Coke down on her bedside locker and shrugged. “I’m the only girl so I get the box room.”

“It’s a nice room,” I replied as I walked over to her bed and sat down.

I was already in the danger zone.

I might as well be comfortable.

“Don’t lie,” she said with a sad smile. “It’s a dump.”

“No,” I corrected. “It’s nice.”

I glanced around her tiny, purple painted bedroom, looking for a television set and came up empty.

She didn’t have one.

Didn’t have a stereo system either.

But she had books.

A lot of them.

“You weren’t messing when you said you liked to read,” I mused, eyeing several piles of neatly stacked books on her bedroom floor under the windowsill. Turning back to face her, I grinned. “Are you a little swat, Shannon Lynch?”

“Believe me, I wish I could call myself a swat,” she replied with a grimace. “I love to read but I’m not academically smart.”

I frowned at her in disbelief. “Bullshit.”

“No, I’m really not,” she replied, shaking her head. “I have to work so hard to keep up in my classes, and most of those are ordinary level subjects.”

“What subjects give you the most trouble?” I asked, relaxing into the conversation.

This, I could handle.

Learning more about her fed the beast – and distracted the other beast.

“Business,” Shannon replied, scrunching her nose up at the thought. “And Maths – I’m terrible with numbers.”

“Those are my best subjects,” I mused, scratching my jaw. “I’m taking Business and Accounting for the leaving cert next year.”

“What else are you taking?” she asked, sounding genuinely interested.

“Irish, English, Maths, Accounting, Business –” I shifted until my back was resting against the wall before continuing, “History and French.”

“Why French?”

Because there’s a high chance I’ll be moving there once I’m done with school.

“I need a language for university,” I said instead. “French was a good fit for me.”

“Higher level?” Shannon asked, looking impressed.

I nodded.

“Really?” Her eyes widened. “Which ones?”

“All of them.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Shannon quipped as she tucked her legs beneath her and sat facing me. “And you called me a swat.”

“School has never been an issue for me,” I admitted with a frown.

“Lucky you,” she whispered. “I barely scraped through the Pre’s.”

“I can give you a hand,” I heard myself offer without thinking it through.

“What – like now?” she squeaked.

“Or later.” I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Whenever you want.”

“Is that something you do?” Shannon asked, watching me with those big, uncertain eyes of hers. “Do you tutor other students?”

I’d tutor you.

“You have your junior cert coming up in June,

right?” I asked instead.

Shannon nodded.

“I’ve been through it already,” I explained, desperately trying to keep my tone impassive and light. “If you need someone to go through the coursework with you, then just let me know.”

“You would do that for me?” she asked, voice soft.

I would do pretty much anything for you.

“Yeah,” I replied, unable to keep the gruffness out of my tone. “I would.”

“But you’re so busy.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Why are you always trying to help me, Johnny?” she whispered, blue eyes burning holes inside of me.

There was the million-dollar question.

And I had no fucking clue how to answer it.

“Because I want to,” I finally said, deciding on the truth. “I want to help you, Shannon.”

“You do?” she breathed.

“I do.” Tearing my gaze off her before I did something stupid, I shifted around to get comfortable on her tiny ass bed and said, “Now, go get your books and you can show me where you’re finding it difficult.”

“Yeah, okay,” Shannon replied as she scrambled off the bed and hurried to the door. “Are you sure?” she stopped in the doorway to ask me.

No.

“I’m always sure, Shannon.”

Smiling, she nodded and then hurried back down stairs to get her bag.

“Fuck.” Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I typed out a quick SOS message to Gibsie, only to delete it before sending it.

Exhaling a frustrated breath, I typed out another text, this one to Jason, letting him know I wouldn’t make this afternoon’s hydro pool session and then quickly shut my phone off before he could call to give me a litany of abuse.

I already knew I was doing wrong.

I’d missed yesterday’s session and two more a couple of weeks back.

Because of her.

Because when she jumped, I flew clean off the ledge after her.

Didn’t need my trainer to tell me something I already knew.

He’d tell me I needed to get my head back in the game.

He’d scream at me and tell me to focus on my future – on the upcoming fitness test I needed to pass more than I needed to breathe.

Problem was, I couldn’t focus.

Because my head was gone.

Shot to shite.

Lost inside the girl whose bedroom I was sitting in.

I was sliding my phone back into the pocket of my school trousers when Shannon returned with her bag.

“I think business wouldn’t be so hard if I could get a handle of the maths side of it,” she said in a slightly breathless tone as she hauled her bag over to the bed.

Dropping it on the floor, she ran back to her door and quickly locked it before resuming her position on the bed, cross-legged and facing me.

“I had trouble concentrating at my old school,” she added, while rummaging in her bag. “I managed to keep up with my language classes, but I let maths slide.”

I knew this.

I’d read all about it in her file.

“That’s understandable,” I told her, nodding.

Shannon looked at me with a wary expression. “Why is that understandable?”

Shit.

Fuck.

“Because you have to take a crazy number of subjects for the junior cert,” I bluffed. Shrugging, I added, “Can’t be good at all of them.”

“I bet you were,” she replied, turning her attention back to her bag, disaster averted. She pulled her Maths book out and dropped it on the bed between us. “Let me guess, you took all higher-level subjects for your junior cert, too?”

“Give me that book,” I grumbled, feeling embarrassed.

“All A’s?” she teased.

“Nope,” I shot back, flicking through the pages of her textbook. “I got a C in ordinary level science,” I told her and then I sighed before admitting, “The rest were higher level A’s.”

“Really?”

I nodded, feeling hot and uncomfortable.

“You’re smart?”

I just shrugged.

“Well, I got my only A in science,” she mused. “It’s my only higher-level subject.”

“Well, I take my hat off to you,” I muttered. “Because I fucking loathe science.”

“Stop,” she chuckled. “Science isn’t that bad.”

I arched a brow. “Oh, like maths isn’t?”

She grimaced. “Okay, fair point.”

“Come on,” I said with a smirk, refocusing my attention on the book in my hands. “Get your copybook out and I’ll school you.”

“You’ll school me?” She giggled and Christ, it was a lovely sound.

Shannon didn’t do enough laughing.

I racked my brain thinking of other things I could do to get a repeat of that sound.

I had a whole heap of ideas – terrible, awful ideas.

Concentrate, Kavanagh…

So I did.

For the next hour or so, I went through her work with her, watching carefully as she attempted each problem.

She wasn’t kidding when she said she found Maths hard.

Shannon was seriously struggling with the subject.

Seeing her struggle made me want to jump in and bulldoze, which was exactly what I seemed to be doing as I lay strewn out on my side, with my long legs hanging off the side of her bed, breaking down every sum, equation, fraction, and percentage that came our way.

One of her biggest issues was that she had no idea how to use her calculator efficiently.

Quickly on, I discovered that she had no clue about Sin, Cos, and Tan.

She was bluffing and pretending that she knew what she was doing when she clearly didn’t.

When she finally caved in and tossed the calculator on my lap and admitted that she didn’t have the foggiest clue of what she was doing, I ended up spending another forty-five minutes going through basic methods with her.

When she eventually starting solving the problems without me hovering over her copybook with an eraser, it felt like I’d scored a bleeding try, I was so proud of her.

It was ridiculous how much genuine satisfaction I got when those big, blue eyes lit up when she clicked onto a problem.

It was right around the time I was beginning to think Gibsie had a point, and that I could do this friend thing, when I faced a problem of my own.

I foolishly allowed my eyes to wander off the copybook Shannon was furiously scribbling on, where they then proceeded to trail over her body.

She was still sitting cross-legged and facing me, but she was leaning forward, working hard on a sum, which caused the string top she was wearing to droop, giving me a glorious view of her braless tits.

Sweet Jesus Christ.

I loved tits.

And tits that belonged to this girl were even more appealing.

They were small and perky with rosy-tipped, pebbled nipples.

She was just so fucking beautiful.

I was instantly hard.

“Are you okay?” Shannon asked, placing her small hand on my forearm.

“Huh?” I snapped my gaze to her face, totally fucking busted.

“Are you okay?” she repeated, blue eyes locked on mine, expression innocent.

I was about the furthest a person could get to okay.

But for her sake, I forced a small nod and said, “Yeah, I’m just getting a bit hungry.”

What the actual fuck, Johnny?

“Can I get you something?” she quickly asked. “What would you like to eat?”

You.

I would like to eat you, Shannon.

“We should probably think about wrapping this up,” I stated gruffly. “It’s getting late.”

I made a big deal of checking my watch only to frown when I realized it actually was getting late.

“Shite,” I muttered. “It’s half six.”

We’d been up in her room for four hours?

Where the hell did the time go?

I never missed a meal.

I wasn’t even sore.

I couldn’t remember the last time I spent four hours sitting down.

It didn’t happen.

Jesus, this girl was making me lose track of everything.

“Um, yeah, sure – of course,” Shannon mumbled, falling over her words in that adorable way she did when she was flustered.

Don’t worry, baby, I thought to myself, I’m flustered too.

“I really appreciate you helping me,” she added, closing her books up and shoving them back in her schoolbag. “You helped me big time.” She blew out a breath before adding, “Again.”

“We can do this again,” I offered. “If you want?”

Her face lit up and she shifted closer to me. “Really?”

I nodded slowly and resisted the urge to reach over and touch her.

“You wouldn’t mind?” Shannon asked, all wide-eyed, as she tentatively shifted closer until her knees were touching my left thigh.

“No, Shannon.” Failing miserably, I reached over and tucked a rogue strand of hair behind her ear. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Stop this, Johnny.

Stop this now!

I tried.

I truly, honest to god, tried to make my body get off her bed, but she was there, she was right fucking there, and I couldn’t find an ounce of resolve inside of me.

I just sat there, knowing what was coming, knowing it was the worst possible thing I could allow to happen, and still wanting it more than my next breath.

“Maybe in the library next time,” I finally found the words to say. “Or school.”

Her small, heart shaped face nodded up and down. “Okay.”

“Because I shouldn’t be here,” I added weakly. “In your room.”

“I know,” she replied, voice small and uncertain.

“It’s, uh…” I swallowed deeply. “I should probably go home now.”

“Johnny?” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Hi,” she breathed, edging closer.

“Hi,” I croaked out, fisting her duvet so tightly I was fairly sure I was going to rip the fabric.

“Johnny?” Shannon whispered again.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to hug you now.” She hitched her leg over mine. “Is that okay?”

Don’t do it.

You’ll never get over this girl.

“Yeah,” I exhaled a ragged breath, feeling my heart smash against my ribcage, as she hovered above me. “That’s okay.”

“Thanks for today,” she whispered in my ear as she straddled me.

“You’re welcome,” I replied gruffly, clinging to my self-restraint for all I was worth.

Don’t put your hands on her.

Too fucking late.

My hands moved of their own accord, shooting out to clamp her hips.

The sensation of having her on top of me was

too much.

It was all too fucking much.

“I should go,” I groaned, as I dragged her on my lap, unable to stop myself from thrusting upwards.

Fuck the pain in my groin.

I was on fire for this girl.

Shannon wrapped her arms around my shoulders and gingerly rocked her hips on top of me in the best, most fucked up hug I’d ever received.

“I don’t want you to go,” she moaned – she actually fucking moaned in my ear.

Groaning, I sat forward and pulled her roughly against me, hugging on her and rocking on her, and losing my mind in her.

You’re playing with fire.

This girl is going to ruin you.

Fuck.

“I should go,” I continued to tell her as I buried my face in her gorgeous neck and prayed for divine intervention to stop me before I took something from her that I couldn’t give back.

Before she took something from me that I could never get back.

Because I had never felt this much for anyone.

And it was with that knowledge that I knew I could never be selfish with her.

“Shannon, I really need to go home now,” I told her, tone thick and gravelly. “Really.”

“Oh…of course. I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she scrambled off my lap. “If that’s what you want?” she added, retreating to the far corner of her bed.

No.

No, that wasn’t what I wanted at all.

But it was the right thing to do.

Dammit to hell!

With self-control I didn’t know I possessed, I climbed off her bed and stood up.

Keeping my back to Shannon, I walked over to her window and pretended to stare out, while I discreetly rearranged the huge fucking problem in my pants.

I knew I was probably freaking Shannon out by just standing here like this, but I couldn’t walk until I had calmed down.

I was hurt and horny.

It was a terrible combination.

Inhaling several calming breaths, I clenched my eyes shut and strived for control, and thought of every un-sexy thing imaginable ranging from my dead grandmother, god bless her soul, to Gibsie in drag.

By the time Shannon spoke again, I had managed to settle myself.

“Johnny?” she said in a small voice from her perch on the bed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I replied, tone thick and husky, confident that I wouldn’t traumatize her when I turned around. “It’s all good. I’m uh, just…I’m going to go home now.”

“Okay.” She nodded shyly and climbed off the bed. “I’ll walk you out.”

I kept a wide berth of her body as I trailed after her, knowing that if I didn’t there was a good chance I would take her back in that bedroom and mess up beyond repair.

Like every time I walked away from this girl, the closer I got to leaving, the more depressed I felt.

“So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” Shannon said when I stepped outside.

“Yeah.” Shoving my hand into my pocket, I pulled out my car keys. “You definitely will.”

“Thanks again for today.”

“Thanks for showing me your room,” I replied, cringing internally at the stupid fucking comment.

“Oh, no problem. You can see it anytime,” Shannon replied, smiling.

I smirked at her verbal blunder.

“Oh, God.” She slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes bulging. “I didn’t –”

“Relax,” I chuckled. “I know what you meant.”

I stepped forward then, because I was a masochistic bastard with a penchant for torturing myself and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Bye, Shannon.”

“Bye, Johnny,” she whispered, shivering on the doorstep.

I turned around then and walked straight to my car, not daring to look back at her.

Masochistic or not, if I turned back and looked at those midnight blue eyes again, I was going to drown in them.