Binding 13

Brilliant.

Fucking perfect.

"Jesus Christ," Joey Lynch stated when we stepped into the kitchen a few moments later with my phone in his hand and sporting a beauty of a shiner under his right eye that I had been too drunk to notice last night.

In the clear light of day, I found myself sizing up this guy.

He was tall, but I had a good three inches on him, like I had on most lads our age.

He was obviously in good shape, too, but it was that typical hurler physique with lean, cut muscle, built for agility and speed, rather than packing any serious muscle.

"You should have a tour guide at the front door," he added, looking around my kitchen before settling his gaze on me. "This house is like a museum."

"That it is," Gibsie snickered. "It's a manor."

Pushing off the stool, I closed the space between us and greeted him.

"Thanks for this," I said, taking my phone from him. "Appreciate you driving all the way over with it."

"Yeah, well, King Clit was very persuasive," he shot back with a smirk. Turning his gaze on Gibsie, he arched an expectant brow. "How's my food coming along, chef?"

"Faster than a whore at a brothel, good sir," Gibsie called back over his shoulder. "Egg?"

"Lad," Joey mused, sauntering over to where Gibsie was ducking and dodging splatters of grease. "Are you old enough to use the cooker without your mammy?"

Christ this fella had some pair of stones sauntering into my house and demanding food.

Oddly enough, I liked it.

Joey Lynch seemed like a straight shooter.

I respected that in a person.

"I doubt it," Gibsie replied with a laugh. "It's my first time."

Gibsie fiddled with the knobs on the stove and a huge flame flew upwards, singeing his eyebrow.

"Jesus Christ!" Gibsie roared, slapping his face. "I'm on fire."

"Give me that thing before you hurt yourself," Joey ordered, snatching the spatula out of Gibsie's hand, and stepping in to flip over the rashers and eggs.

Adjusting the hob to medium heat, Joey snagged the tea towel off my best friend's shoulder and began to mop up the grease splatters.

"Fucking private school boys," he muttered under his breath. "Used to having everything done for ye."

"Shit, Kav," Gibsie snickered, taking a step back from the stove. "I was wrong. This fucker right here is the daddy."

"Do me a favor, Kav," Joey called over his shoulder. "Go and check on my sister, will ya?"

My heart leapt in my chest. "Sha

Joey nodded and reached for a plate off the countertop. Shoveling several pieces of bacon onto the plate, he added, "She's out in the car."

"Why would you leave her in the car?" I demanded, tone tight. "It's freezing outside."

"Because she wouldn’t come in for me," Joey shot back in what sounded like a 'duh' tone. "You can try and get her to come inside yourself if you want, but she's not budging."

He didn’t need to ask me twice.

Or give me permission once, for that matter.

I was already on my feet and moving for the front door.