Binding 13

5

Laying down laws and breaking them

Joh

By the time I made it back to the changing room, after a detour trip to the lunch hall to speak to the vice principal, Mrs. Lane, the team was finished with practice and most of the lads had finished showering.

Ignoring the muffled remarks and stares when I walked in, I went straight to Patrick Feely, apologized for being a prick to him earlier, shook it out, and then skulked over to the bench.

Sinking down beside my gear bag, I kicked my feet out, rested my head against the cool, slabbed wall behind me, and exhaled a heavy breath as my brain went into overdrive, obsessing over every detail of the day's events.

What a fucking day.

Bullying.

I wasn’t a bully.

I'd never laid eyes on the girl before in my life.

Apparently, that little gem of information was lost on our vice principal who'd been called in by Mr. Twomey to help dispel the drama.

After a ten-minute bollocking off Twomey's right hand woman, I'd been given strict instructions to stay away from the Lynch girl.

Her mother thought I was fucking bullying her and didn’t want me going anywhere near her daughter.

If I went near her again, I would face immediate suspension.

It was complete and utter bullshit and I hoped Sha

Fuck it.

Whatever.

I would keep a wide ass berth.

I didn’t need the hassle.

Girls were a fucking complication I didn’t need; even little ones with wild blue eyes.

Dammit, now I was thinking about her eyes again.

She still has your jersey, I mentally noted, which made me sad for a whole different reason.

It was new and I'd only worn it this one fucking time.

It looked better on her though, I begrudgingly acknowledged.

She could keep it.

I just hoped she didn’t throw it out.

I would have to pay eighty quid to replace the bleeding thing.

"You alright, Joh

Shaking my head, I turned to look at him. "Huh?"

"The young one," he explained, retrieving a can of deodorant. "Who is she?"

"Sha

"Is she okay?" he asked, spraying each armpit with Lynx before tossing the can back in his bag and reaching for his grey school trousers. "She looked out of it."

"Fuck if I know, man. I think I really did a number on her brain," I muttered with a helpless shrug. "Her mother's taking her to the hospital to get checked over."

Gibsie paused, frowning. "Shit."

"Yeah," I agreed grimly. "Shite."

"Jesus, that must have been mortifying for her." Slipping his feet into his pants, he stood up and dragged them up his hips. "Having your ass on display for the rugby team on your first day."

"Yeah," I replied, because what else could I say?

It was humiliating for her and I was responsible for that.

I blew out a frustrated breath. "Was anything said about her?" I looked around at our teammates and then back to my best friend with only one thing on my mind. Damage control. "Were they talking about her?"

Gibsie raised his brows at my question.

Actually, I think the raised brows and surprised expression had more to do with the tone of my voice.

"Well," he began slowly. "She had her pussy and ass out, Cap– a very nice ass that matches the very nice rest of her – so yeah, lad. There's been talk."

"What kind of talk?" I bit out, feeling an irrational surge of anger boil inside of me. I had no fucking clue where the agitation was coming from, but it was there, it was strong, and it was making me feel half-demented.

"Interest, lad," Gibs explained calmly – much calmer than me. "A lot of interest." Reaching into his bag, he withdrew his white school shirt and shrugged it on. "In case it slipped your attention – and going by your reaction I know it didn’t – that girl's a corker."

He buttoned up his shirt with steady hands.

Meanwhile, I was trembling with energy that needed to be worked out of my body and quickly.

"She's gorgeous and she's new and the lads are… curious," he added, choosing his words carefully. "New is always fun –" he paused, gri

"It stops," I growled, agitated at the concept of my teammates talking about her.

I saw that look in her eyes.

I heard it in her voice.

That vulnerability.

She wasn’t like the others.

This girl was different.

I barely knew her, but I could tell that this one needed minding.

Something had happened to Sha

It didn’t sit well with me.

"Yeah," he chuckled as he finished with his shirt and slung his red tie on, "Good luck with that, man."

"She's fifteen," I warned, tensing.

Sixteen in March, but still.

For the next two months, she was still very much fifteen.

"She's too young."

Gibsie snorted. "Says the eejit who's been sticking his cock in anything with a pulse since first year."

Gibsie hit the nail on the head with that statement.

For Christ's sake, I lost my virginity in first year to Loretta Crowley, who was three years older than me – and had a lifetime more experience than me – behind the school sheds after school.

Yeah, that was some clusterfuck of disaster.

I was all nerves and clumsy movements, well aware that I was too young to be sticking my dick in anything but my hand, but I must have done something right because Loretta happily joined me behind the sheds most days after school for several months before I got too busy with training and called time on our meetings.

If I had to say what type of female I was interested in, it wouldn’t be blondes or brunettes, curvy or ski

My type was older – with every girl I'd ever been with having at least a couple of years on me.

Sometimes many more.

It wasn’t a fetish or anything.

I simply enjoyed the drama-free aura that older girls brought to the table.

I enjoyed them when I was with them and then I enjoyed it even more when I wasn’t.

That wasn’t to say I didn’t fancy the shite out of the girl I was with when I was with her.

I did.

And I was loyal, too.

I didn’t fuck around.

If a girl wanted exclusive, no strings, then I was more than happy to oblige. I didn’t enjoy the hunt or the chase that appealed to most of the lads. If a girl was expecting me to chase her then she was looking to the wrong guy. I wasn’t in the position to be boyfriend material right now. It wasn’t that I didn’t want a girlfriend; I just didn’t have time for one. I didn’t have the time for consistent dating or any of those demands.

I was too busy.

It was another reason I preferred older girls.

They weren't expecting miracles from me.

Right now, for example, I was fooling around with Bella Wilkinson from sixth year and had been since April last year.

In the begi