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FIFTH YEAR
YOU DON’T HIT GIRLS
AUGUST 16TH 2003
AOIFE
My parents were goingthrough another rough patch, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why, especially when my father’s check book was out.
The compensation for this latest hiccup turned out to be something that benefitted all of us.
Built-in wardrobes.
Yay!
“Jesus, Molloy,” my father’s favorite laborer – and mine – growled, as he tossed another pile of clothes from my old wardrobe on to my bed before dragging my old wardrobe into the middle of my room. “Where are you going with all the clothes?”
“Rule number one,” I said, sitting in the middle of my bed, rummaging through a mountain of clothes and shoes. “You never judge the size of a girl’s wardrobe.”
“No judgment from this end,” Joey replied with a resigned shake of his head. “Just confusion.”
Yeah, Joe, me too,I thought to myself, as I shamelessly watched him work, taking in every tight muscle under his white t-shirt, and the golden strip of skin he flashed when he stretched.
His body truly was a sight to behold, considering by the time this summer had ended, he had racked up almost as many tattoos as he had scars from fighting.
We were back to BCS in a couple of weeks, our fifth year, and as good as Joey looked in a school uniform, and damn did he look good in our uniform, I was thoroughly enjoying the visual of him in his work clothes.
“You planning on giving me a hand anytime soon?” he asked, dragging me from my thoughts, as he dropped another heap of clothes on my lap. “Or do you plan to just sprawl out on your bed for the evening.”
“Sprawl,” I said with a lazy sigh, flopping back on my pillows. “Definitely sprawl.”
“You’re a pain in the ass,” he grumbled, but sounded more amused than annoyed.
“What’s that? You like my ass?” I teased. “Why thank you, Joey. It’s my pride and joy.”
“Your legs should be your pride and joy, Molloy,” he tossed over his shoulder, and the compliment thrilled me.
My heart skipped. “So, you don’t think I have a nice ass?”
“I can’t remember what it looks like,” he replied, quick as a cat. “Why don’t you take off your pants and I’ll tell you.”
“Funny.”
He glanced over his shoulder and gave me a devilish smirk. “It was worth a shot.”
Fuck.
“You’d get such a surprise if I dropped my pants,” I taunted, throwing a rolled-up pair of socks at his head.
He deftly caught them midair. “Not as big as the surprise you’d get if I dropped mine,” he shot back.
My mouth fell open and he winked.
“Now, get off that pride and joy of yours and show me where you want the dressing table area.“
“Fine. Oh wait! Yay, I forgot I had these,” I practically cooed with glee, as my gaze landed on a pair of itty-bitty jean shorts. “I can’t wait to wear them again.”
“Wearthem?” Joey cocked a brow. “You’re telling methoseare shorts?”
