Someone put their hands on her.
Those kinds of marks didn’t happen in a bleeding ruck, never mind during a soccer game in P.E.
It was ridiculous, and she was ridiculous for feeding me that line.
What did she think I was; some thick eejit who couldn’t tell the difference between an accidental bruise and foul play?
I played rugby.
I’d spent my whole life knocking up injuries and knocking lads out.
I knew the goddamn difference between accidental damage and intentional harm.
Someone squeezed her throat, and they did it so hard they left fucking fingerprints on her.
If she was being bullied at Tommen, then I was going to find out.
If it was McGarry, then I was going to end up in a cell.
If it was those fuckers from BCS, then they might as well lock me in a strait jacket.
I was about ten seconds away from going CSI on the situation, but then her big blue eyes filled up with tears and I was thrown another curveball.
I had no clue how to handle girl tears.
And girl tears coming from that particular girl affected me something fierce.
And there was my hattrick…
Going against every instinct in my body, because my judgement was clouded with the urge I had to comfort her, I’d given in to her pleas to get her clothes and take her home.
But then I saw her – I fucking saw all of her – sprawled out on my bed, with my dog on top of her, and her towel hanging open, and my brain switched off, body taking over.
And then she went and blew my carefully constructed world apart by putting her mouth on mine.
Shannon kissed me and I froze.
I completely fucking choked up, attacked by every abnormal, foreign emotion and sensation a person could think of.
I didn’t expect it.
I didn’t expect her.
It all hit me like a head on collision in that exact moment and I clammed up, feeling more exposed and vulnerable in that moment than I had in my whole life.
Contrary to how good my body assured me having her lips on mine was, or how much harder my heart had to work when she was around, my head knew better.
It was not good.
It was not fucking good at all.
It took every ounce of self-control I had inside of my body to hold myself back.
Especially when everything inside of me demanded I do the opposite.
I knew though.
I knew if I gave in to the burning need inside of me and kissed her back, then that would be it.
I would be completely fucked.
And so would Shannon.
Because my being here was temporary and that girl reeked of permanence.
The best I could offer was friendship, even if that was the last thing I wanted.
“Shannon?” Resting my forehead against the timber frame, I continued to knock. “Will you please come out?” She locked herself in my bathroom thirty minutes ago and hadn’t come out since. “Please?”
Silence.
Exhaling heavily, I knocked again. “Just open the door and we can talk about it.”
Nothing.
“Please, Shannon,” I growled, resisting the urge to bang my head against the frame. “Just come out. You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to. I’ll take you home and I won’t say a word if you –”
I let my words trail off when the sound of the lock clicking sounded.
Moments later, my bathroom door opened inwards and there she was, fully dressed in her damp uniform, with puffy eyes and blotchy cheeks.
Fuck.
I made her cry.
Again.
“I’m ready to go home now,” she told me in a small voice, not meeting my eyes. “If that’s okay?”
“Yeah, of course it’s okay,” I replied t
“Thank you.” With her head down, Shannon stepped around me and walked over to my bedroom door.
She looked so vulnerable and uncertain that all I wanted to do was wrap her up in my arms.
My heart was on fire.
Get it together, Kavanagh.
Don’t do anything stupid.
Don’t kiss her.
You know you won’t be able to stop.
With great effort, I didn’t go to her and walked over to my wardrobe instead. “Just give me a sec, okay?” I told her.
She nodded and dropped her gaze to her clasped hands.
Sighing, I opened my wardrobe and quickly threw on a t-shirt, sweatpants, and hoodie.
Grabbing a pair of socks from my chest of drawers, I sank down on my bed and pulled them on before toeing on a pair of runners.
All the while, Shannon stood silently by my door with her wet hair falling forward, concealing her face.
She looked so lonely in this moment that it physically pained me to look at her.
Because I knew I was responsible for that look.
And my heart was demanding I make it right.
I wanted to.
I just didn’t know how without hurting the both of us.
“Here,” I said, grabbing a jacket off the foot of my bed. “Put that on.”
Her nervous eyes darted to the jacket I was holding out for her and she immediately began to shake her head. “No, no, no,” she croaked out. “I’m o–”
“You’re okay. Yeah, I know,” I replied as I stood up and closed the space between us. “But it’s still lashing down with rain outside, and I’m not okay with you getting sick. Put it on.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, reaching out hesitantly.
Christ, this girl was killing me…
“Positive.” Handing her my jacket, I moved for the door, careful not to brush against her, knowing my poor dick couldn’t take the pressure.
I waited for her to slide the jacket on and then I walked out of my room, knowing she was with me, even though she trailed behind.
This felt so shitty – like the opposite of the right thing to do, which made zero sense because I was thinking with my brain right now, and not my dick.
“I need to get Ma’s keys,” I told her when we were standing in the downstairs foyer. “Gimme a sec, okay?”
“Um, yeah, okay,” Shannon replied as she slid her hands into my jacket that was swamping her. “I’ll wait here?”
Was she asking me?
It sounded like she was.
I didn’t know for sure because she wouldn’t look at me.
I couldn’t gage how she was feeling because the window to her emotions were her eyes that were trained on her feet.
It fucking sucked, but I knew I needed to give her space right now.
Problem was, the closer to the front door we got, the more depressed I felt.
My dick was devastated.
My chest was burning.
My brain was doubtful.
I was completely fucked.
