“Who?”
“That’s the lad Shannon has her eye on.”
“The one you said beat up Ciara Maloney’s boyfriend?”
“That’s the one.”
“Well, go Shannon,” I said, taking in the sight of the ridiculously attractive boy, who was making a ridiculously unattractive attempt at swallowing a quarter pounder in two bites. “He’s a little ridey, isn’t he?”
Joey snorted in disgust.
“Don’t worry,” I teased, patting his chest. “The steroid-head look doesn’t appeal to me.”
“No?”
“Nope.” Grinning up at him, I added, “I’m more into the lean, mean, cocaine snorting machine type.”
He smirked. “Funny.”
“Let’s go say hi.”
“What?” Joey gaped at me like I’d grown three heads. “Why would we say hi?”
“Because he could be your future brother-in-law.”
His brows furrowed. “Like fuck.”
“Come on,” I laughed, catching ahold of his hand. “Live a little – but be nice about it. Don’t even think about scaring him off your sister.”
“She could do better.”
“She could do a lot worse,” I laughed. “Go on, Joe. Go and say hi to him.”
He gaped at me. “Why me?”
I shrugged. “Because she’s your sister, not mine.”
“So?”
“So, shut up and do it already!”
“Why am I constantly being ruled by the women in my life?” Joey muttered, trailing after me. ”Johnny Kavanagh?”
“No pictures tonight, kids,” the boy replied, shoulders slumped. “Johnny’s on a time-out.”
Joey gave me a look that said what a dickhead.
I gave him an encouraging nod.
“I spoke to you on the phone the other week,” Joey offered then, giving me a pointed look. “You know my sister, Shannon. You dropped her home.”
The boy’s attention quickly sparked to life at the sound of Shannon’s name, and I watched the fog dissipate from his steel blue eyes.
“You’re the hurler.” Johnny straightened his brick shit-house shoulders. “Joey.” Smiling proudly to himself, he added, “Shannon like the river, and Joey the hurler.”
Joey gave me a what the fuck look.
I choked out a laugh in response. “Like the river?” I grinned. “God, how much have you had to drink?”
“A river load by the looks of it,” Joey said dryly, nudging my shoulder with his. “Do you think you should head home? You look fairly well oiled, lad.”
“Would if I could,” Johnny grumbled, looking a little lost. “No taxi.”
I opened my mouth to speak when Joey shook his head, giving me a warning look that said don’t do it.
“Sure we could give you a lift home, couldn’t we, babe?” I said, doing it anyway, and reveling in the fuck you expression on his face. “We’re only parked down the road.”
“That would be great,” Johnny replied, voice slurred, but eyes full of relief. “Thanks.”
“Yeah, sure,” Joey said flatly. “No problem.”
I snickered.
Joey glared at me.
I beamed back at him.
This would be fun.
“I’m Aoife Molloy, by the way,” I said, amused at how this giant of a boy tried and failed to walk a straight line down the footpath towards the car. Rounding the car, I yanked the door open and snickered, “Joey the hurler’s girlfriend,” before climbing inside.
“Nice to meet you,” Johnny replied, manners impeccable, even though he was having a hard time keeping himself upright.
“Three-door,” Joey explained, gesturing for our passenger to maneuver over his seat to get into the back. “You’re going to have to climb into the back.”
“It’s fine, lad,” Johnny replied ever so politely.
And then I watched as, quite possibly, the biggest boy I’d ever seen in my life tried and failed to wedge himself into the backseat of my poor Opel Corsa.
Rolling his eyes, Joey shoved him into the back seat with an impatient, “for fuck’s sake,” growl.
“Christ,” Johnny muttered when he was inside, taking up the entire back row of my car with his shoulders alone.
Climbing into the driver’s seat, Joey shoved his seat back as far as it would go, causing the big lad in the back to wheeze out a breath. “You good?”
“All good,” Johnny strangled out, clearly crushed. “Thanks again for the lift.”
“No problem.” Joey leaned in close and mouthed the words you’re dead before brushing a quick peck to my lips. “Where are we heading?”
“About four miles the other side of Tommen College,” Johnny slurred. “Head out the main road for the city. I’ll call the turn offs when we get to them.”
Joey had just pulled onto the road when he had to slam on the brakes when a big, blond bastard all but threw himself on the bonnet of my car.
“What the fuck?” we both roared in unison, gaping at the lunatic hugging my car like he was superman.
“Get off the car, asshole!” Joey roared, rolling down his window.
“You’re stealing my center! Give him back,” the boy called out, coming around to the side of the car to poke his head through the driver’s window. “Hey, Cap, how’s it going?” he said then, smiling into the backseat at Johnny. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Joey and I looked at each other, instantly recognizing the mad bastard as none other than Gibsie Gibberson or whatever his name was from the Tommen party.
“And this clown is?” my boyfriend asked, knowing full well who he was. The look he gave me told me to go with it.
“He’s my flanker,” Johnny replied with a groan, as he leaned between the seats and hissed, “Gibs, what the fuck are you doing, lad? You’re supposed to be gone home with Hughie.”
Joey and I looked at each other again, and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was when we mouthed the word champagne in unison.
Aw, crap.
“The Gards pulled him over for tax and insurance,” Gibsie declared, clearly intoxicated, as he staggered and swayed on his feet.
“So?” Johnny hissed. “Hughie’s above board.”
“He looked at me, Johnny! He shone his big fucking torch right in my eyes,” Gibsie slurred, wide-eyed. “I panicked and jumped out of the car. I’ve been running around town ever since. I tried to call you but you kept cutting me off.
“You’re King Clit?”
“Oh yeah. I forgot about that.”
“What’s Hughie down as?”
“Ginger pubes.”
“He’s blond.”
“His girlfriend isn’t.”
“Jesus Christ, Gibs.”
“What do you want me to do with him?” Joey asked, sounding bored, while I was thoroughly amused by their antics.
“I should probably bring him back to my place,” Johnny muttered, rubbing his jaw. “Or to a secured hospital.”
“See what bullshit you got us into?” Joey told me under his breath, before throwing the door open and climbing out to move his seat forward.