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“I know,” I agreed with a wolfish grin. “I’m lovely to look at, aren’t I?”
“Come on, Bubba,” Johnny drawled, tone laced with sarcasm as he retreated in the direction of his car, armed with a wicker basket containing what I knew was a mountain of freshly baked goodies.
“You’ll make sure Edel gets the basket, won’t you, Johnny?” Mam asked, following us out to the car. “And whatever you do, don’t let that son of mine anywhere near those muffins. You know what he’s like with chocolate. The poor child can’t control himself.”
That was the thing about my mother. She might have horrible taste in men, not to mention a poorly angled moral compass when it came to upholding marital vows, but she had a heart of gold.
Contrary to my feelings toward anything with the last name Allen, I had a good relationship with my mam. I loved the woman, and I knew she loved me.
Mam seemed to know how to manage me by giving me both the space I needed when my mind went dark and the concessions required when I lost my head and screwed up. She understood that I had issues hanging over my head since childhood that I was trying to deal with myself, and she never overstepped or pushed me for more. She handled me the way I needed her to, and it was what worked for us.
“Will do, Sadhbh,” Johnny replied politely, placing the basket in the boot of his car, along with a mountain of other crap. “Thanks a million.”
“And you’ll keep an eye on him for me at school, won’t you, love?”
“Always.”
“Good boy, Johnny.”
“Good boy, Johnny.” Rolling my eyes, I tossed my bags into the boot and turned back to my mother. “Keep an eye on me? What the fuck, Mam? Am I three years old again?”
“Language, Bubba.”
“Apologies, Mother.” My attention flicked to the tiny brunette leaning against the passenger door when we reached Johnny’s Audi, and my heart softened.
“Hi, Gibs.”
“Little Shannon.” I smiled. “How’s my second favorite girl in the world?” She was looking a hell of a lot more put together than last weekend. Hungover at the beach and puking her guts up. “All set for fifth year?”
“Sufficiently terrified,” she admitted with a nervous laugh. “And I guess we’ll soon see if I’m ready or not, huh?”
“You’ve got this, little fighter,” I encouraged, ruffling her hair when she walked over. “You’re going to make this school year your bitch.”
“Damn straight she is.” Without a hint of hesitation, my bulldozer of a best friend hooked an arm around his girlfriend and pulled her close. “You’ve got this, Shan,” he whispered, bending low enough to press a kiss to the top of her head. “And you’ve got me.”
“Yeah.” Releasing a shaky breath, she snaked her arm around his waist and smiled up at him. “I do.”
I knew from the very beginning that what Johnny had with Shannon was permanent. I’d never seen a fella plagued more by his feelings than Johnny. He loved the bones of that girl and, yeah, it took him his usual amount of time to predict, ponder, panic, and finally process his feelings, but he had. Once his mind was set, it was a done deal.
Shannon Lynch was his endgame, and Johnny Kavanagh was hers.
Because when Johnny executed his decision, that was it. He didn’t change his mind and he didn’t flee I’d never seen that level of commitment from anyone, let alone someone so young, but that was Johnny. He was commitment personified. Dedication was his middle name, and he didn’t go back on his word.
That’s why it had hurt him so much last year when Cormac fucked him over with Bella. Because he could never do that to a friend, so it was impossible for him to conceive such a betrayal.
It wasn’t the way he was programmed.
That’s why he was my best friend, and I could die on a hill of fealty to him.
Because it would be returned tenfold.
After all, it was his arrival in Ballylaggin that I credited with saving my life. If he hadn’t walked into my classroom that day, if he hadn’t offered me that chance to reinvent myself, then I honestly didn’t know where I would have ended up.
Yeah, we had shits and giggles, and banter galore, but when the cards were on the table, he had my back, and I had his. There was a permanence to that kind of friendship that soothed something deep inside of me.
I wanted to be that self-assured, but I wasn’t programmed the same way he was. I didn’t think like Cap or move like him. I was too impulsive and loose-lipped to ever be in control of my emotions like he was.
Unlike Johnny, rugby wasn’t the be-all and end-all of my world. I played because it was fun. It was a bonus that I happened to be good at it. All my friends were playing so I joined in. What the hell else was I supposed to do at lunchtime and on the weekends? Besides, it got me out of class on numerous occasions throughout the school year. The fact that I was better than most was a nice bonus.
