I winked. "Never say never, Joe."
"Believe me, I've had more than enough of playing daddy to another man's kids to last me a lifetime," he shot back. "Now, go upstairs and throw some clothes on and we'll hit up the Deli for a chicken fillet roll."
"The fridge is full now," I informed him.
"Yeah." He grinned. "But my girlfriend left me a direct order and I'm not nearly thick enough to ignore that."
I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday and my stomach growled in anticipation.
"Hash browns," I practically purred as I thought about what I was going to have. "And some jellies and a can of coke."
Springing off the chair, I hurried for the staircase with food on my mind.
"Hold on, Shan. I almost forgot–" Breaking off mid-sentence, Joey padded into kitchen, returning a few moments later with a small, gift wrapped parcel in his hands.
Joey handed me the gift and then ruffled my hair. "Happy sweet sixteenth, Shan."
"Thanks Joey." I beamed, clutching what I already knew was a CD beneath the pink wrapping paper.
"I'd get you more if I could," he told me with an embarrassed shrug. "And I forgot to get a card –"
"Stop," I told him as I sank down on the step of the stairs and ripped at the paper only to sequel with excitement. "McFly's album!" Eyes wide with excitement, I stared down at the CD in my hand and smiled. "I really wanted this."
"I know," he snorted. "You're such a girl." Slipping his hand into his jeans pocket, he tossed another box on my lap. "This one's from Aoife," he explained.
Thrilled at the prospect of getting two presents, I tore at the polka dot wrapping paper and gasped when I saw what was inside.
"Whoa," I breathed, gaping at the designer bottle of perfume in my hands. "This must have cost her a fortune."
"She must love you, too," Joey teased.
I rolled my eyes. "Uh-huh."
"Hurry up and get changed," he ordered, moving for the front door. "I'll be in the car."
Bolting into my room with my presents in tow, I placed them carefully on my dresser before tearing off my pajamas.
Pulling on a jumper and tracksuit pants, I ripped open the box that contained my new bottle of perfume, squirted myself all over, and then raced after Joey.
Shoving my feet into my runners in the hall, I grabbed my coat off the banister and hurried outside to the car.
The minute I climbed into the passenger seat, the smell of alcohol assaulted my senses.
"Jesus, Joey," I coughed as I rolled down the window. "It smells like a brewery in here."
"I know," Joey replied as he started the engine and pulled away from the curb. "You can blame your friends from Tommen for that."
"My friends?" I shook my head and stared at his side profile. "What are you talking about?"
"Johnny Kavanagh," Joey stated. "We ended up dropping him home from the pub last night."
"Oh."
Wait.
What?
"You dropped Johnny home?" I hated the way my voice was all loud and pitchy. "When… How… Why?"
"Last night when we were picking up our takeaway," Joey explained as he pulled out of the estate and onto the main road. "He was thrown down against a wall outside the chipper in town. He was in a bad way."
"He was?"
Oh god.
Concern filled my chest.
"What was wrong with him?"
"He was drunk off his tits," Joey grumbled. "His friend was worse."
"His friend?" I asked, careful to mask the emotion in my voice. "His…girlfriend?"
"Nah, some big, blond fucker," Joey corrected and I mentally sagged in relief. "I think his name was Gussie or Gillie or something like that."
"Gibsie," I confirmed quietly, thinking about how those two were joined at the hip at school.
"That's the one." Joey nodded, then released a low chuckle. "Bloody eejit threw himself on top of the car, demanding I give him back his center." Laughing, he added, "He looked serious, too. Like he genuinely thought I was kidnapping Kavanagh."
My brows furrowed. "Why did Gibsie call Johnny his center?"
"Johnny's position is outside center in rugby," he explained. "He's number 13."
Oh, yeah, I knew that.
I remembered his jersey.
"So, you dropped them both home?" I asked, feeling warm. "To Johnny's house?"
"Yep," my brother confirmed. "Had to help Kavanagh carry that Gibsie fella into the house. He was legless, Shan. A right bloody mess. We left him in the living room."
"You were inside Johnny's house?"
My brain was reeling, trying to digest everything my brother was telling me.
He was with Johnny last night.
He was at his house.
He was inside his house.
I wanted to ask him if he asked about me, but I managed to keep that question from spilling from my lips.
"Yeah, Shan, and Jesus Christ, by the looks of their property, his family must be minted." Joey blew out a breath. "Never seen anything so fancy in my life –"
The sound of a phone ringing cut through the air, distracting us both.
We both patted our pockets.
"Not mine," Joey stated.
"Mine either," I muttered, looking on the dashboard and then on the floor at my feet.
The ringing cut out and then restarted a few seconds later, vibrating loudly.
"Check the backseat," Joey instructed as he pulled over on the side of the road and threw on his hazard lights.
Unclipping my belt, I crawled between the seats and dropped into the backseat, my eyes searching the seats for the noise.
"Anything?" Joey asked, pulling back into traffic.
"No."
Dropping down between the seats I peeked under the driver's seat.
"Oh, wait, it's here!" I exclaimed, eyes locking on the sleek looking phone lighting up and vibrating against the floor. "I see it."
The ringing cut out again and I snaked a hand out, retrieving the phone.
Shuffling back onto the seat, I quickly fastened my seatbelt, eyes glued to the phone.
"Is this Aoife's?" I gazed down at the expensive looking device. "Did she get a new phone for Christmas?"
"No," Joey replied. "Her folks got her hair straighteners for Christmas."
The phone began to ring again, screen lighting up with the name King Clit flashing across it "Ew, Joe," I groaned. "That's disgusting."
"What?"
"Whoever's calling this number is listed as King Clit."
My brother threw his head back and laughed.
"That's not funny," I admonished, watching the screen go blank again as the call ended. "That's pretty disturbing."
"It's yer man – the Gibsie fella. I heard Johnny ranting at him over changing his contacts around last night," Joey chuckled. "He's King Clit."
The phone lit up again, vibrating in my hands and ringing loudly.
"Well, answer it," my brother instructed, tone impatient. "He's probably looking for it."
"I don’t want to." Shoving my hand between the seats, I tried to thrust the phone at my brother. "You answer it."
"How the fuck am I supposed to answer it?" Joey hissed, batting my hand away. "I'm driving, Shannon. Just answer the phone."
"No," I refused, shaking my head. "They'll think we stole it."
"No, they won't think we stole it," Joey shot back tetchily. The ringing stopped and Joey let out a growl. "When it rings again, answer the fucking thing!"
Like clockwork, the phone rang five seconds later.
Trembling, I pressed the accept button and put the phone to my ear.
"Uh, hello?"
"Well, shit, I wasn’t expecting anyone to pick up," the voice at the other end replied. "You have my buddy's phone."
"Yeah, I know." Closing my eyes, I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead and exhaled heavily. "He left it in my brother's car last night."
"Last night's a bit hazy," Gibsie drawled down the line. "So, you might need to refresh my memory by letting me know who your brother is?"
"Joey Lynch?" I squeezed out, trying not to hyperventilate in front of my brother. "He and his girlfriend Aoife dropped you guys home from town last night. The phone was under his seat." Squirming uncomfortably, I threw in a quick disclaimer by saying, "I just found it like two minutes ago."
"Nope," Gibsie replied after a long pause. "I have no recollection of that happening."