Binding 13

Joh

Turning his attention to me, Joey said, "You need to get out of those wet clothes, Shan, before you get pneumonia."

I opened my mouth to respond, but my brother continued without giving me a chance.

"Do you have something she can throw on?" Joey asked, looking to Joh

Joh

"Or we can just leave?" I offered, glaring at my brother, praying he would take the hint. "We should go home, Joey."

"You're not getting into my girlfriend's car smelling like that," Joey shot back.

"Don’t be a dickhead," I growled. "Take me home."

"You guys can't go home yet. We haven't had tea and chats," Gibsie piped up. "And I have scones baking in the oven."

"You baked scones?" I asked, momentarily distracted. "You?"

"Yes, me," Gibsie shot back, looking slightly wounded. "I'll have you know that I'm a wonderful baker."

"Sorry," I quickly replied, not wanting to offend him. "You just don’t strike me as a baker."

"Relax, I'm totally fucking with you," he laughed. "I have no idea what I'm doing." He pointed to the stove and said, "For all I know, those scones could be killers."

"Killer scones?" I scrunched my nose up at the concept. "Then I hope you won't mind if I pass."

Gibsie chuckled. "I like you." He looked over my head and said, "I like her," before returning his attention to me. "But not the smell." He pegged his nose with his fingers and added, "Your brother's right – you need to change."

"That's okay, I'm going home –" I began to say, but once again, I was interrupted – this time by Gibsie.

"Joh

My eyes bulged. "What?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Joh

Joey, who had returned to his perch at the island, nodded his head.

"Good idea, Gibs," he agreed between forkfuls of egg and sausage. "Wash that wet dog smell off ya before we have to drive home in small confines."

"I don’t smell," I muttered.

"You stink," both Gibsie and Joey said in unison.

"Fuck off the pair of you and leave her alone," Joh

"You don’t smell it because you're immune," Gibsie retorted. Turning to Joey, he said, "He lets the mutt sleep on his bed every night."

"Call my dog a mutt again and you'll be wearing that frying pan," Joh

"My sincerest apologies, lad." Gibsie threw his hands up in retreat. "I never meant to insult your precious pooch."

Ignoring the snickering and banter, I swung around and stared up at Joh

His attention flickered from the boys to me and stayed there. "It's okay, Sha

"No, honestly, it's okay." My face was burning with embarrassment. "I don’t have to shower in your house."

"Ah, yeah you fucking do," Joey called out. "I meant it when I said you're not getting into Aoife's car like that. I could run a drag off ya with the state you're in."

"For fuck's sake," Joh

Yanking the kitchen door open, he caught ahold of my hand and practically dragged me down the hallway.

"Come on," he ordered. "I'll look after you."

"Uh, okay," I strangled out, because in all honesty what hope did I have of saying no when a gigantic rugby player was dragging me through his house?

"For the record," Joh

"Um, thank you?" I strangled out, unsure of the appropriate response to a boy telling you that you don’t smell that bad, and too out of breath to come up with anything better.

He was moving fast, my hand still wrapped in his, and I had to run to keep up with his long strides.

He didn’t stop moving until we were at the end of the landing and standing outside a closed door.

I noted that we had passed at least half a dozen other doors on this section of the landing, but I was too lightheaded from trying to keep up with him to really take stock of my surroundings.

Releasing my hand, Joh

I did – and it was like stepping into a bedroom version of the hall of fame.

The room was huge, the walls were blue, and the enormous, four-poster bed took center stage.

There was an entertainment center opposite the bed that resembled a miniature cinema, but none of those details were what stuck out in my mind.

It was the rows upon rows of trophies and medals ordaining the walls that had my immediate attention.

Framed jerseys littered the walls, along with several peculiar looking caps and posters of the Irish rugby team.

There was a huge oak desk settled in the space at the far wall between two windows.

On top of the desk was an expensive looking laptop and heaps of school books and exam papers.

Above it hung a huge corkboard, mounted to the wall.

Stuck to the board were countless photographs – of different celebrity athletes.

All of whom Joh

"So," Joh

He walked over to his bed and kicked several items of clothes under it.

"It's a nice room," I replied, chewing on my lip as I glanced around.

In typical teenage boy fashion, it was a complete mess with the mandatory posters of semi-naked girls with humongous breasts ordaining the walls.

Clothes were strewn everywhere, and PlayStation controllers and games littered the floor by the TV beside a couple of leather beanbags.

"You can shower in here," Joh

"If you're sure?" I squeezed out, feeling incredibly intimidated to be standing in his personal space and potentially removing all my clothes.

We were virtual strangers.

It seemed wrong to be in his space.

Seemed wrong, but felt so right…

"Yeah, it's no problem," he quickly replied, opening the door for me. He poked his head inside for a brief moment before popping back out. "There's fresh towels on the rack. Use whatever you like."

Holy crap.

This was crazy.

It was too surreal.

I left my house this morning to buy some hash browns and a can of coke, and now I was standing in Joh

How was this even happening?

"Do you want me to throw your clothes in the dryer while you're in the shower?" he asked, startling me back to the present.

"My clothes?" My hands moved to my middle and I quickly shook my head. "Uh, no, that's okay."

He nodded stiffly and I watched him kick several more items of clothes under his bed. "I'd give you something of my mother's but she locks her clothes room when she travels."

"Her clothes room?"

"Yeah, she, uh, my Ma works with clothes." Joh