Saving 6: Boys of Tommen #3

DECEMBER 19TH 2004

AOIFE

JOEY WAS ESCORTED from school by the Gards on Friday, and it had been radio silence ever since.

His phone was constantly off, and none of the Lynch family would answer the door to me when I knocked.

And I had knocked.

Repeatedly.

From what I had gathered from the gossip spreading around school, Marie Lynch had pulled Shannon out of BCS with immediate effect and had enrolled her to start at Tommen College after Christmas break.

The jury was still out on Joey’s future. His latest episode had been taken to the board of management, who, from what I heard, were due to meet up sometime in the next week to discuss his possible permanent expulsion from school.

Therefore, when I received a random text message from Joey at half past eight on Sunday night, asking if I wanted to meet him at Biddies for a drink and to talk, I had practically cracked my neck in my haste to get ready.

Running late, due to innate amount of time it took to blow-dry and straighten my hair, I managed to make it to Biddies for just after nine.

I couldn’t stop the rattling in my knees when I made my way into the back lounge, and when my eyes landed on him, sitting alone in the corner, it wasn’t just my knees that rattled.

Every inch of me shook.

Joey was sitting at our usual table, with his signature vodka and Red Bull in front of him, and a bottle of Smirnoff ice with a straw poking over the rim on the opposite end of the table.

The minute his eyes landed on me I felt a rush of heat flood my belly that quickly crawled all over my skin.

“Hey,” I said, taking a seat opposite him, and unravelling my scarf from around my neck.

“Hey.”

“Thanks for the drink,” I added, as I shimmied off my coat and set it on the chair beside me.

“Thanks for coming,” he replied, watching me warily from across the table. “You look beautiful.”

I know. “So, how are you?”

“I’m not too fucking good, Molloy,” he admitted quietly. “How are you?”

“Not too good, either Joe.”

I watched him watch me for a long moment and soaked in the feeling of having his eyes on me.

“I’m suspended again,” he finally broke the tension with.

“I heard.” Picking up my bottle, I wrapped my lips around the straw and took a sip. “Have you heard back if they’re expelling you?”

Shaking his head, he took a sip from his glass and set it back down. “But Shannon’s moving to Tommen after Christmas, so at least something positive has come out of it. She won’t have to deal with those girls anymore.”

I already know. “She is?”

He nodded slowly. “Mam took a loan out from the credit union for the tuition. Herself and Shannon have been over to the school to meet the principal and look around and she seems to be excited.” He shrugged. “Could be a life changer for her.”

“Let’s hope so, huh?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Let’s.”

“So,” taking another deep sip from my drink, I forced myself to get down to business. “What’s happening here, Joe? I get that you’re mad at me over the whole talking to the authorities idea, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? I feel like there’s a distance between us that wasn’t there a month ago.”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “I guess there is.”

Oh fuck.

This is it.

This is where he breaks your heart.

Tossing my straw aside, I put my lips around the rim of my bottle and continued to drink until I had every drop in my belly.

For the nerves.

“So,” I roughly cleared my throat and met his gaze head on. “What are you saying?”

“I suppose I’m saying that I’m not intentionally trying to put distance between us, Molloy.” Knees bouncing restlessly, he reached for his glass and tipped it back. “I’ll get us another.”

With that, he bolted to the bar, returning a moment later with two new drinks. “Where were we?”

“You were saying you weren’t trying to put distance between us, and then you legged it away to the bar,” I offered wryly.

He didn’t laugh.

Instead, he blew out a frustrated breath and said, “I’m not good at this, Molloy.”

“Good at what, Joe?”

“Talking shit through,” he admitted gruffly. “Resolving an argument with words.”

The Pogues’ Fairytale of New York wafted from the speakers above the bar then, as the DJ started his set.

“Remember this time last year?” His lips twitched. “You told me this was our song.”

“Yeah, I remember,” I drawled. “And it certainly fits us better this year.”

“That’s fair.” He let out a sigh. “I still can’t understand how you lasted a whole year without running for the hills.”

“I don’t run, remember?” I shot back, reaching across the table with my palm up. “And neither do you.”

Joey stared at my outstretched hand for a long moment before placing his on top of it and entwining our fingers. “I guess we’re both too stubborn for running, huh, Molloy?”

“Or too in love.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, tone gruff, as he pressed a kiss to the back of my hand. “Or that.”