by Chloe Walsh
"No, no," I hurried to say, wielding the PlayStation controller in front of me like it could somehow ward off her kindness. "I'm fine as I am…thank you."
"Nonsense, love," Mrs. Kavanagh said with a dismissive wave. "You can't be sitting around in wet clothes. You'll catch your death."
"Ma," Johnny said with a pained sigh. He climbed to his feet and exhaled a frustrated breath. "Leave her alone, will ya?"
"Don’t be so rude, Johnny," Mrs. Kavanagh warned. "Show the poor girl to the bathroom and bring me down her clothes to dry."
"I really am fine," I choked out, eyeing Johnny pleadingly. "I'm drying off."
I wasn’t.
I was damp and cold, but I had been having so much fun that I completely forgot about my drenched uniform.
I had quite literally forgot about my problems; my wet clothes, my parents, my everything, for the past hour.
The moment my brain registered the damp seeping into my bones, I inwardly shivered.
Dammit.
"She just told you she's fine, Ma," Johnny groaned, staring at his mother in horror. "Leave it alone. Please."
Ignoring her son's protests, she turned to face me, smiling. "A nice hot shower will warm you up, love."
"W-what?" I croaked out. "I can't shower in your house." Again.
Why were people always telling me to shower in this boy's house?
God!
"Of course, you can," she replied with the warmest smile I'd ever seen.
"Ma, can you just go?" Johnny bit out. "Now? We were in the middle of something here."
She gave him a hard stare. "In the middle of what?"
I waved the controller at her. "I beat him at PlayStation."
"No," Johnny corrected. "She didn’t beat me at anything –" Johnny paused to glare at me, "You haven't won yet –" and then turned back to his mother and added, "She just pushed the bar out."
"To space," I mumbled under my breath.
"I heard that," he shot back, smirking.
Mrs. Kavanagh looked between us and then beamed. "He's a terrible loser, isn’t he?"
"I am fucking not!"
"I know," I giggled.
"His father's the same," Mrs. Kavanagh added. "You should see him if he loses in court. No speaking for hours."
"Ma," Johnny snapped. "Can you just leave us be? Please?"
"I will," she replied. "Once that poor girl has a warm shower and some dry clothes on her."
"She doesn't want a –"
"Do you know what, Shannon, love?" she added, once again ignoring her son. "I might have something in my office to fit you." She eyed me up and down and tapped her lip before saying, "You're a UK size six?"
Startled, I just stood there while Mrs. Kavanagh circled me, brows set in concentration.
"Ma!" Johnny bit out. "Back off."
"No, no," Mrs. Kavanagh mused, ignoring her son.
Frowning, she stepped closer and pulled at the hem of my skirt and pursed her lips.
"You're a small four." Her eyes trailed over me. "With the most amazing bone structure. Shannon, love, it's a pity you're not taller. You'd make the most beautiful mod–"
"Jesus Christ, Ma," Johnny barked, running an exasperated hand through his hair. "She's not a bleeding doll."
His mother's eyes widened in excitement when she said, "Would you like to come see if we can find something for you to wear in my –"
"No, she fucking wouldn’t," Johnny interrupted as he intercepted his mother and walked her to the door. "She's not a project, Ma, or a bleeding clothes hanger."
"Fine," Mrs. Kavanagh huffed.
"Thank you," Johnny growled.
Turning to her son, she whispered, "Door open, Johnathon," and gave him a hard look before walking out of his room, humming softly to herself.
Johnny watched her walk down the hall and out of sight before flinging the door shut and twisting the lock.
Exhaling heavily, he turned to look at me.
"Again, I am so fucking sorry about her." Johnny shrugged helplessly. "I don’t know what's wrong with that woman today."
"It's okay," I hurried to soothe him. "She's, uh, she's very friendly."
"Yeah," he muttered. "Just be glad she didn’t drag you into that clothes room." Shuddering he added, "You'd never get out of there."
"Really?"
"Oh yeah," he muttered.
"Oh."
"Sorry again about the whole her sizing you up thing," he said, looking mortified. "She wanted a girl – they were told they were having a daughter, actually." Grinning sheepishly, he added, "She got me instead."
"A 6'3 rugby playing son," I mused, smiling back at him. "I can see why you might have thrown her."
"Yeah," he chuckled and then pinched his nose in an act of embarrassment. "She and my Da wanted a bunch of kids, but it didn’t work out that way for them." He scrunched his nose up then, obviously thinking about something personal. "Took them a bunch of attempts at IVF or some shite like that." He shrugged and gestured to himself. "This is what their money got them."
"You," I offered with a smile.
He grinned wolfishly. "Lucky them, huh?"
Yes.
Lucky them.
"She's away for work most of the time," he continued to say. "She actually flies back out to London in the morning for a few weeks. But when she's home she likes to be involved in my life."
"It's nice," I told him. "You're lucky to have a mother like her."
"Yeah," he shot back sarcastically. "Sure I am."
He was.
Johnny didn’t realize it, but in the space of an hour or two, his mother had taken more of an interest in me than my own mother had in months.
Maybe even years.
"Listen, you better just take a shower and give me your clothes," Johnny said with a sigh. "Otherwise, she's just going to come back and keep nagging on about pneumonia and all that shite."
Was he serious?
Was I actually supposed to take a shower in his house again?
"I am serious," Johnny muttered, reading my thoughts. "And I am sorry."
"Oh." Blushing, I knotted my hands in front of myself and shrugged uncertainly. "Um, okay?"
He stared at me for the longest moment before shaking his head. "Come here."
"Come where?"
"Here," he instructed, gesturing for me to follow him into his ensuite bathroom.
Like a baby foal, I hurried after him, all shaky legged and clumsy.
Hovering in the doorway of his luxurious bathroom, I watched as he reached over the tub and turned on the shower.
"You, uh, said you had a problem with it last time," he mumbled with a shrug.
"Did I?"
"Uh, yeah," he replied, shifting uncomfortably. "You were mumbling in your sleep about my shower scalding you."
I turned beetroot red.
"Oh, god, I'm sorry," I choked out, feeling nervous again.
"Stop," he warned with a smile. "It was cute."
"Cute?" I squeezed out, practically hyperventilating.
"Uh, yeah, I'll put some clothes out for you again." Johnny's cheeks turned a flushed shade of pink as he stepped around me and hurried back into his room, "Same as last time."
"Where will I put my clothes?"
"Just throw them out to me when you're naked– ah, when you're ready," he muttered gruffly. "I'll put them in the dryer," he added before closing the door and leaving me alone in his bathroom.
Trembling, I sank down on the closed toilet lid and exhaled a ragged breath.
Oh, god.
45
I'm a virgin
Johnny
I was in so much fucking trouble.
For once, my problems had nothing to do with my adductor and everything to do with the girl naked in my bathroom.
"What the hell was that about?" I hissed when I found my mother in the kitchen.
"Hello, love," my mother replied, as she continued to chop carrots, clearly oblivious to my outrage.
"Hello?" I balked. "That's all you've got to say?"
Setting her knife down on the chopping board, she turned to face me.
"That girl is fragile, Johnny." Mam nibbled on her lip, brows furrowed in concern. "There is something about her that makes me want to wrap my arms around her and cuddle the sadness out of her eyes."
Yeah, I knew the feeling.
I knew that feeling very fucking well.
"So, you force her to come over here?" I hissed. "Tell me how that was a good idea?"
"Oh, god," Mam strangled. "I haven’t upset her, have I?"
"No, she's okay," I bit out, "But I'm not."
I was so far from okay, the word was a blip on my radar.
"What's wrong, baby?"
"What's wrong?" I practically spat. "Ma, you just snookered me! What were you thinking bringing her here?"
"You were enjoying yourself up there," Mam said with a smile. "She was beating you at PlayStation, huh?"
Yeah, she was.
Shannon was kicking my ass at GTA and ruining other parts of my anatomy.
I had no clue how I ended up getting my ass handed to me by that pint-sized girl, but that's what happened.
Watching her completely dominate my PlayStation was so fucking hot.
Seriously, her skills with a controller, and her ability to kick my ass like she did, only made her infinitely sexier.
She was fucking perfect.
I was so caught up in her that I could have sat there all night, just being with her.
And then my Ma had to go wreck it and make everything all awkward and strained again.
Jesus, she was naked in my room.
Naked.
I couldn’t handle that.
Not when all I wanted to do was be naked right with her.
I was only seventeen.
This was a temptation I doubted a man twice my age could resist.
I shook my head and expelled a frustrated breath. "Why, Ma – why in god's name would you do this to me? And this –" I held up Shannon's jumper and shook it around, "Why would you make her shower here?"
"Did she have a shower?"
"She's currently in my shower."
"Oh, that's good."
Good? "What are you trying to do to me, Ma?" I demanded. "Why would you do this?"
"She was wet!" Mam defended. "And so are you," she added with a concerned look. "Go and change your clothes before you catch pneumonia."
"I will," I growled. "When you tell me why you screwed me over?"
"I didn’t screw you over, Johnny," Mam replied. "Don’t be over-dramatic."
"You knew I had a PT session I had to go to this evening."
Since I'd been banned from the pitch, Jason, my personal trainer, wanted my ass in the pool every evening for the rest of the week.
And now?
Now I was trying to figure how to get myself out of a situation that only had one appealing result.
Shannon naked on my bed.
With me naked on top of her.
Preferably in her.
If my fucked-up dick held out.
Stop it, asshole.
Stop those thoughts!
"You knew I needed you to take me because I don’t have my bleeding car," I hissed, frustrated. "And now? Now, I have a naked girl in my room, Ma. A naked fucking girl and I'm holding her bleeding clothes."
Stalking towards her, I dumped Shannon's wet uniform on the counter and glared at her.
"What kind of mother does that to their son?"
"Well, you're down here with me," Mam replied calmly, patting my cheek. "So, I raised you well."
"Ma," I growled.
"I thought you could do with a rest," she huffed. "You look so tired, sweetheart."
Give me strength…
"And you were having so much fun," she added with a rueful smile. "I haven't seen you relax like that in years."
True.
But not the point.
"And my car?" I demanded. "What am I supposed to do without my car?"
"Your father's picking it up on his way home this evening," she replied, having a bleeding answer for everything. "There's been some hiccup with the case, so he'll be home tonight and he'll take me to the airport in the morning." She checked her watch and sighed happily. "He should be home any minute – he left Dublin over three hours ago."
Normally when my mother pushed my buttons, my father would smooth things over, but not this time.
No, because as delighted as I was to hear my Dad would be home for the night, Mam had gone way too far this time.
She had meddled in something I didn't want anyone meddling in.
She meddled with Shannon.
"Why did you do this?" I repeated.
"Because I think you two are doing a line together on the sly," Mam said with smirk. "You look so cute together."
"Doing a line?" I gaped at my mother. "What are you talking about? You know I don’t take drugs! I'm tested all the fucking time."
"No, love," Mam chuckled. "Doing a line together as in secretly seeing each other." Shrugging, she added, "I was trying to let you know that I was okay with you having a girlfriend, and I was trying to make Shannon feel welcome."
God.
This woman.
"Well, I can assure you that I am not doing lines of anything – cocaine or girls," I snapped. "We are just friends."
"She's a lovely girl, Johnny," Mam offered. "Seems very fond of you." She turned to look at me when she said, "You could do a lot worse than a nice girl like her."
"Yeah, well, I don’t see her like that."
Lie.
Lie.
Barefaced Lie.
"She's just a friend."
More lies.
"That's it, Ma."
"Do you honestly think you can sell me that shite, Johnny Kavanagh?" Mam shot back, lips twitching. "I'm your mother. I brought you into this world, and I know every single time you tell me a lie."
"I am not lying," I lied.
"You're lying to me right now."
"I am fucking not."
"It's okay if you do, love," Mam said in a reassuring tone.
"We're friends," I bit out. "That's it."
"But you like her?" Mam asked after a long pause of silence.
I turned to look at her. "What?"
"Shannon," Mam filled in, tone gentle and coaxing. "You like her."
I shook my head and exhaled heavily, making no move to respond.
This conversation was beyond disturbing.
"Just tread carefully and exercise patience. She's younger than you, and as I'm sure you're more than aware, you need to move at her pace."
"Ma, please," I leaned my head back and sighed. "Just give it a rest."
"All I'm trying to say is be careful," Mam replied. "Do not break her, Johnny." She cupped my cheek and smiled sadly. "Not when she already seems fractured."
"Don’t worry," I muttered. "I've no intention of going there with her."
"Going there with her?" Mam questioned. "Where's there?"
"A relationship," I bit out. "Feelings and shite."
"Oh, there." Mam was quiet for a long moment before saying, "Are you sure you're not already there, love?"
Christ, I hoped not.
For both our sakes.
"She's fifteen years old," I decided to throw out there, unwilling to let go of my annoyance at her meddling. "You get that, don’t you?"
Mam's eyes widened. "I thought she was sixteen?"
"No, Ma, she's fifteen," I hissed.
"No, Johnny," Mam replied, brows furrowed. "I'm pretty sure she's sixteen."
My mouth fell open.
Shit.
She was right.
Dammit.
"That's worse again," I barked, flustered. "There is a naked sixteen-year-old girl in your seventeen-year-old son's bedroom right now – one you put there, I might add!"
"Johnny, love, you need to relax–"
"And h
ow do you propose I do that?" I demanded. "When you put a naked teenage girl in my bedroom?"
"Oh, love," Mam muttered, worrying her lip. "I think it's time we had a chat."
"A chat?" I gaped at her. "We are chatting. We are having a very important fucking chat, Ma. About the lack of boundaries in this family. About you needing to respect my boundaries!"
"About you and Shannon."
"What about me and Shannon?"
"About your feelings."
I gaped at her. "My feelings?"
"And your intentions, love," Mam replied.
"My intentions?"
The fuck?
"I know it's early stages and what I'm about to talk to you about is a long way off for you both, but it's important that you know about it."
I eyed her warily. "About what?"
"About sex, love."
My mouth fell open. "Why are you not hearing me? Why isn’t anyone hearing me anymore?"
"I know your father spoke to you a few years ago about the birds and the bees." She placed a hand on my shoulder and steered me over to the island, obviously not fucking hearing again. "But considering this latest development, I think it might be a good idea for us to talk about it. Just so we're all clear on how important it is to take things slowly."
"Latest development?" I sank onto a stool and gaped at her. "I'm not having any bleeding developments. We don’t need to talk about anything."
"Even still –" Shrugging, Mam sat down on the stool beside me and patted my thigh, "It would do no harm to refresh your memory."
"I sincerely fucking hope you're joking, Ma," I strangled out.
"Maybe we should call Shannon down, so I can talk to you both about this –"
"Don’t you bleeding dare," I strangled out. "You leave her alone."
You've traumatized her enough!
"Okay then," she replied. "I'll talk to you about this."
"Please, don’t –"
"Sex is a beautiful thing, love," Mam said in that motherly tone that currently made me want to stab pencils in my ears. "When it's between two people who love and are committed to each other."
I held up a hand. "We are just friends."
"Uh-huh," Mam quipped with a disbelieving smile. "That's what they all say."
"That's the bleeding truth," I snapped. "That's all we are."
