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Gibsie let me work in silence for about twenty minutes, which was an all-time record for him, before breaking my concentration by asking, “Did you sort Bella out for that stunt she pulled at school?”
“Damn fucking straight, I did,” I growled, instantly angry at the memory. “I sent her a text earlier to drive the message home.”
“Was Shannon okay?” he asked. “What was said?”
“Nothing good,” I muttered, finishing off a paragraph. “She wouldn’t tell me, lad, but you and I both know how poisonous it had to be if it came from Bella’s mouth.”
“Ugh,” he groaned. “I don’t know how you ever touched her.”
“Neither do I,” I admitted with a shudder.
“By the way?” Gibsie mused, distracting me once more. “You bulldozed again.”
I turned to glare at him. “I did not.”
“Yeah, lad, you did,” he chuckled. “I tried to stop you, after your ‘Save me, Gibsie, please save me from myself’ spiel the other week, and you went right ahead and bulldozed in like a freight train.”
“Well, what the hell was I supposed to do?” I bit out, tossing my pen away. “Just stand back and do nothing while Bella called her a slut in front of half the bleeding school because of me?”
“Bella called Shannon a slut?” Gibsie scoffed, fluffing a pillow. “She’s one to talk.”
“I know,” I grumbled. “That’s what I said.”
“So, you disappeared out of school with Shannon and didn’t come back after lunch,” he added, arching a brow. “Did you put her in your car again?”
“Maybe,” I bit out.
“Did you do anything besides drop her home?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Invite yourself in for tea or some typical Johnny stunt like that?”
I dropped my head.
“Bulldozing.” Gibsie laughed.
“Shut up,” I muttered, pushing away from my desk. I was done for the night. Whatever concentration I had was long gone now.
“That’s an A-minus right there,” I told him, gesturing to his neatly written five-page essay. “Be fucking thankful.”
“I am thankful,” he assured me with a beaming smile before saying, “and I think you need to revisit the friend notion. I told you this morning, and I’m telling you again that it will never work.”
“Nope.” I shook my head. “You’re wrong. I can do the friend thing.”
“You clearly can’t,” Gibsie snickered. “Lover boy.”
“I helped her today,” I bit out, tensing. “That’s what friends do for friends.”
“By the way, Robbie Mac asked me if I could get her number off Claire for him during lunch,” Gibsie stated in an impassive tone. Pulling himself up to rest on his elbows, he looked at me and added, “Said he’d love to take little Shannon to the cinema at the weekend.”
“I hope you set that fucker straight!” I hissed. “Gibs, you better not have given that eejit her number.”
He flopped back down on the bed and laughed. “I’m messing with you. Robbie’s not suicidal. All the lads heard you loud and clear that day, Cap.”
I glared at him. “That’s not funny.”
“It’s hilarious,” he snickered. “You’re a lost cause to that girl.” Grinning, he added, “Better get your cock and balls in working order, lad. No girl wants a broken dick.”
