"Bye, Johnny," she whispered before quickly closing the door and hurrying away.
"Bye, Shannon," I replied gruffly, watching her every move as she walked away from me.
Trouble.
I was in so much fucking trouble.
I drove the whole way home on autopilot with my brain reeling, my hormones raging, and life throwing a tiny, brown-haired plot twist in my path.
I was so consumed in my thoughts that it wasn’t until I parked up in my usual spot out back that I noticed her schoolbag was still in my car.
Groaning, I slapped my head on the wheel and prayed for an intervention.
I needed one.
Because this girl was going to ruin me.
Half an hour later, I was standing outside Shannon's front door with sweaty palms and a racing heart.
What the hell was I doing here?
This was madness.
Put the schoolbag down and walk the fuck away, the sensible part of me instructed.
But of course, I didn’t listen.
No, because I had to knock instead.
The sound of footsteps pattering on the staircase came from the other side of the door followed by a key twisting in the lock, and then she was there, standing in front of me, obliterating any notion of walking away.
"Hi, Johnny," Shannon said in a breathy voice, staring up at me all wide-eyed and lethal. "You're back."
Yeah, I was back.
Like a bad fucking smell that seemed to follow her around.
"Uh, yeah, I'm back." Shaking my head, I pulled her bag off my shoulder and held it out for her. "You forgot this in my car again."
"I'm so sorry." She blushed the most adorable shade of pink. "Were you knocking for long?" She reached for her bag and then heaved it into the house. "I was in the shower."
Yeah, I could tell.
Her long hair was loose, flowing down her body in damp curls, she was wearing a white vest and the tiniest pair of pajama shorts I'd ever seen in my life and all my brain could register was bare skin – way too much bare skin.
"Don’t be sorry," I said gruffly, trying to focus on my words and not my wayward thoughts. "And no, I just got here."
"Well, thanks for bringing it back to me," Shannon said, dragging my attention back to her face. "I didn’t even notice. I would have been in a major panic in the morning."
"Again, it's no bother," I replied and then proceeded to stare at her like a fucking tool.
Well, this wasn’t awkward at all.
Move your feet, Johnny.
Leave the girl alone.
"Do you have training this evening?" she asked.
Yes.
"No."
"Do you want to come inside?" she offered nervously.
My brows shot up. "Inside?"
She bit down on her bottom lip and shrugged.
She looked unsure.
Like she shouldn’t be inviting me into her house.
"Do you want me to come inside?" I asked with a frown.
She nodded shyly and opened the door inwards. "If you want to?"
Don’t do it, lad, my brain warned, don’t put yourself in temptation’s way.
Against my better judgment, I stepped inside.
Shoving my hands in my pockets, I watched as Shannon quickly locked the door again.
I focused my attention on her and not my dilapidated surroundings.
The place was tidy, but the walls badly needed re-plastering and a fresh lick of paint.
"There won't be anyone home until evening time," she announced as she led me through the short hallway and into the kitchen.
That was not good information.
Not good at all.
"Would you like a can of Coke?" Pulling open the fridge, she retrieved two cans and smiled. "Joey's addicted and he always buys the real brand stuff."
She held a can out to me and I shook my head.
"I can't drink that," I replied, and then felt like a tool when her smile fell.
"Oh."
"I want to," I quickly assured her. "But I'm in training."
"Oh, yeah," she mumbled, placing one of the cans back in the fridge. "I forgot about the rugby thing."
I bit back a smile. "Yeah, the rugby thing."
She stared up at me then, looking as unsure as I felt.
"Do you want to come up to my room?"
My brows shot up – matching the sudden spike in my heart rate. "Your room?"
Blushing, she tucked her hair behind her ear, and hurried to say, "It's just that I don’t normally stay down here …I mean I do, but I don’t…because…I…." Her voice trailed off and she sighed heavily. "Never mind, it was a stupid–"
"Okay."
Her eyes widened. "Okay?"
I nodded. "Lead the way."
I waited until Shannon had turned around before slapping the heel of my hand against my forehead.
I was so fucking stupid.
This was worse than coming inside.
This was wrong.
I knew it was.
And still, I followed her up a narrow staircase, avoiding rogue Legos and stepping over children's toys on the ascent.
The bedroom Shannon led me into at the front of the house was a glorified box room.
She stepped around me, which wasn’t easy in small quarters, and turned the lock on her door before walking the four steps it took to reach her bed.
Meanwhile, I stood like a tool in her tiny bedroom, not knowing what the hell I was supposed to do now.
The single bed pushed against the far side of the room took up the entire width of the wall. There was a bedside locker next to it, a chest of drawers shoved against the opposite wall, and not a lot else.
"It's a small house for a family of eight," Shannon acknowledged quietly, noticing my staring. She set her Coke down on her bedside locker and shrugged. "I'm the only girl so I get the box room."
"It's a nice room," I replied as I walked over to her bed and sat down.
I was already in the danger zone.
I might as well be comfortable.
"Don’t lie," she said with a sad smile. "It's a dump."
"No," I corrected. "It's nice."
I glanced around her tiny, purple painted bedroom, looking for a television set and came up empty.
She didn’t have one.
Didn’t have a stereo system either.
But she had books.
A lot of them.
"You weren't messing when you said you liked to read," I mused, eyeing several piles of neatly stacked books on her bedroom floor under the windowsill. Turning back to face her, I grinned. "Are you a little swat, Shannon Lynch?"
"Believe me, I wish I could call myself a swat," she replied with a grimace. "I love to read but I'm not academically smart."
I frowned at her in disbelief. "Bullshit."
"No, I'm really not," she replied, shaking her head. "I have to work so hard to keep up in my classes, and most of those are ordinary level subjects."
"What subjects give you the most trouble?" I asked, relaxing into the conversation.
This, I could handle.
Learning more about her fed the beast – and distracted the other beast.
"Business," Shannon replied, scrunching her nose up at the thought. "And Maths – I'm terrible with numbers."
"Those are my best subjects," I mused, scratching my jaw. "I’m taking Business and Accounting for the leaving cert next year."
"What else are you taking?" she asked, sounding genuinely interested.
"Irish, English, Maths, Accounting, Business –" I shifted until my back was resting against the wall before continuing, "History and French."
"Why French?"
Because there's a high chance I'll be moving there once I'm done with school.
"I need a language for university," I said instead. "French was a good fit for me."
"Higher level?" Shannon asked, looking impressed.
I nodded.
"Really?" Her eyes widened. "Which ones?"
"All of them."
"Why am I not surprised?" Shannon quipped as she tucked her legs beneath her and sat facing me. "And you called me a swat."
"School has never been an issue for me," I admitted with a frown.
"Lucky you," she whispered. "I barely scraped through the Pre's."
"I can give you a hand," I heard myself offer without thinking it through.
"What – like now?" she squeaked.
"Or later." I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Whenever you want."
"Is that something you do?" Shannon asked, watching me with those big, uncertain eyes of hers. "Do you tutor other students?"
I'd tutor you.
"You have your junior cert coming up in June, right?" I asked instead.