AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I wanted to fight all her battles. I wanted to give her all her smiles and make her laugh and snatch her away from the rest of the world and keep her all to myself.
I just wanted her. For keeps.
I knew that was incredibly selfish of me, and I knew that I was probably going to end up fucking up everything and breaking her heart, but the problem was, my heart was involved, too.
I needed to talk to her tonight because I needed to lay it out there. I couldn’t go another day without getting it off my chest. Months of wanting, lusting, and pining after her had left me at a point where I couldn’t see straight anymore. Because I had caught feelings for Shannon.
Huge fucking feelings.
Permanent ones.
I knew I was too old for her. I knew she was too sweet and pure to be dragged into the limelight that came with my life. And I knew that she was too fucking broken for a guy like me to get tangled up with.
But I already felt like I was drowning with her.
That’s how consumed I was in this girl. That’s how much I loved her.
Fuck.
61Breathe, Shannon, Just Breathe
SHANNON
Everyone from Royce College sucked. Seriously, they were pathetic. The game was delayed for over two hours because the coaches from Royce threw a very public hissy fit over Johnny playing.
It was embarrassing.
Two hours of standing around in the rain, while the coaches from Royce tried everything in their power to have Johnny pulled from the cards. They were ranting and raving about how it was unfair to have an Irish international playing in the league.
This was a school rugby game. Johnny was a student from one of the schools. He was a minor. He was entitled to play if he wanted to. There were no rules being broken by Tommen.
Finally, after several phone calls to the board, an embarrassing and very public bringing out of the rule book, and countless screaming matches between Coach Mulcahy and Royce’s head coach, the teams took to the pitch at half past six—with Johnny sauntering onto the field in his number 13 jersey, wearing a shit-eating smirk on his face.
Early on in the game, it became clear why the Royce coach was so against letting Johnny play. His team was terrible.
Well, maybe not terrible, but they were no match for a fired-up Tommen side.
How they managed to draw second on the table with Tommen was beyond me, because there truly was no competition.
The sheer volume of pride that roared to life inside of me watching him take on his old friends and kick their asses was scary.
I was ridiculously wrapped up in this boy and found myself screaming and cheering for him on the sidelines, ignoring the death glares I received from Bella and her friends. I didn’t care. I was so proud of him.
By halftime, Tommen were up 48–3.
Five minutes before the end of the game and it looked even worse for Royce, with Tommen securing three more tries in the second half. Everything was going Tommen’s way until the final play of the game.
With less than a minute to go, Johnny stripped one of Royce’s forwards of the ball. It seemed to be his thing: delivering the final blow in the last minute of the game. With speed unmatched by anyone else on the pitch, Johnny plowed down the field, chasing the last score of the game.
It was a blur of movements that resulted in him grounding the ball seconds before a stampede of opposition players crushed him.
The try was awarded. The team began to celebrate.
But he wasn’t getting back up.
Claire’s brother, Hughie, moved into position in front of the posts and quickly kicked the conversion over, securing the win, before rushing over to Johnny—who still wasn’t getting up.
“Claire,” I croaked, gripping my friend’s arm as I watched on in horror as our classmates and peers celebrated around us. “Is he moving?”
