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“Understandable,” Gibs said in agreement. “At least you know the show’s for your benefit.”
“I don’t want it to be for my benefit. I want her to fuck off,” I growled, repressing a shudder at the sight. “Please tell me that I never carried on like that with her.”
“Well, I don’t know how you carried on behind closed car doors,” Gibs replied. “But you never let yourself down like that in public.”
“Thank Christ,” I muttered.
“Come on, Johnny.” Clamping a hand on my shoulder, Gibsie steered me toward the table we usually sat at. “Sit down. I’ll get a round of pints in.”
“Vodka, Gibs,” I corrected, knowing I was going to need something a hell of a lot stronger than the beer that was on tap to get through tonight. “A double vodka and Red Bull—and a shitload of shots.”
Fuck getting sober. I was going all out. Gibsie could take care of me for once.
“I’m on it, buddy.” Gibsie chuckled before disappearing into the crowd.
Ignoring the table of girls from school who had conveniently positioned themselves at the table next to ours, a table that included Bella and Cormac, I slumped down beside Hughie and his girlfriend, Katie Wilmot.
“Hughie,” I muttered by way of acknowledgment.
I eyed the bottle of 7up with a straw sticking out the rim that Hughie’s girlfriend was clutching and my lips twitched.
“Alright, Cap?” Hughie acknowledged with a loose smile. “How was training?”
I grunted my response, too sore and uncomfortable to make an effort and lie.
It was shite. Everything was shite.
My world was going to shite. And tonight’s spectacle was the cherry to top it all off.
“Feely coming out tonight?”
Hughie shook his head. “Nah, lad. Something came up.”
“No surprises there,” I replied knowingly.
“You’re telling me,” Hughie replied with a weary sigh.
Patrick was a quiet fish, and even though we’d been friends for the bones of seven years, I didn’t know a great deal about him aside from the fact that he was evasive, quiet, and had a tendency to back out of plans at the last minute.
After catching up with Hughie, I inclined my head to the pretty little redhead tucked into his side. “Katie.”
“Hi, Johnny,” Katie said with a shy smile as she huddled under Hughie’s arm.
No fucking wonder you’re huddling, I thought to myself.
I’d huddle, too, if I was a shy, sixteen-year-old girl being subjected to the horrendous mouthfucking at the other table.
Katie was too young to be in a bar—we all were—but kudos to my friend for having the decency to not fill her up with booze. Not that I thought for one minute that he would. For some unknown reason, Hughie was obsessed with the tiny redhead under his arm. Had been since she walked through the doors of Tommen as a fresh-faced first year.
We had been in second year when Hughie threw his cards in with Katie Wilmot. At the time, I—along with every other one of our friends and teammates—had thought Hughie was a lunatic and had voiced my thoughts aloud regularly. But now that I had age and experience on my side, I had to admit that his situation seemed a hell of a lot more appealing than mine.
Devotion had to feel better than being used did.
“You’re looking well tonight, Katie,” I told her, because it was the truth and she was insecure.
I knew this tidbit of information because her boyfriend often confided in me about their relationship. I probably knew far more about their relationship than Katie would be comfortable with, but I’d take those details to the grave.
Katie smiled shyly and snuggled closer into Hughie’s side. “Thanks.”
