My bedroom door swung inwards then, revealing my worried looking father standing in the doorway.
“What in the name of Christ are ya doing, Aoif?” he asked, pressing a hand to his chest. “I thought there was a cat on heat in your room with the noises you were making.”
“No cat on heat. Just… me,” I mumbled, letting my head fall back against my bedroom carpet, pride – and toe – wounded. “What are you doing?”
“Joey’s giving me a hand to replace the old bathroom,” Dad explained. “Your mother wants the bath taken out, and an electric shower put in instead.”
“Sounds expensive,” I replied, wondering how we could afford a new bathroom. “What’s wrong with what we already have?”
“You know your mother,” Dad said with a weary sigh.
Yeah, I did, and I knew my father, too.
What Mam wanted, Dad got for her, regardless of whether he could afford it or not, usually as a form of compensation for his latest slip.
A new bathroom was a small price to pay for his wandering eye, I suppose.
It wouldn’t do me an ounce of good to know the name of my father’s latest mistake.
Not when I already knew the names of too many of the ones that had come before this one.
Frowning, Dad said, “Ah, Jaysus, Aoife, throw some clothes on, will ya?” He gestured to my bare legs. “Your brother’s downstairs with his friends, and I’ve the young fella over from work.”
“I was in bed,” I shot back defensively, pulling at the hem of my string top in a piss-poor attempt to conceal my thighs. “And I’m in my own room. I don’t make a habit of walking around in my knickers, Dad.”
“Still,” he grumbled, looking embarrassed, as he quickly turned on his heels and disappeared into the bathroom. “Did you ever hear of pajamas? And it’s ten o clock in the morning. Shouldn’t you be out of bed and doing something productive?”
Did you ever hear of doing something productive like keeping your dick in your pants?
“In case it slipped your attention, it’s like twenty-three degrees outside, which is freakishly rare for us, hence the knickers,” I tossed back. “And as for the lack of productivity, I have two days left of my summer holidays before school starts back up on Monday, and I’m thrown into revising for the Junior Cert, father dearest, and I have every intention of making the most of said days.”
“So?” I heard him call out from the bathroom. “That’s no excuse to laze around all weekend. You should find something productive to do.”
“And you should find yourself a moral compass.”
“What was that, love?”
“Nothing.” Feeling my heart sink into the pit of my stomach, I climbed to my feet. “Nothing at all, Dad.”
What a lovely way to end the summer holidays, I thought to myself dejectedly, as I padded across my room to close my door. Your father’s fucking around again, and instead of dealing with your father’s infidelity, your mother’s spent the savings on a new bloody bathroom.
“That’s loaded into the van, Tony. Do you want to strip that Lino flooring while we’re at it? That way, we only need to make the one trip to the dump…” Joey’s voice trailed off when he stopped short in the landing, just outside my bedroom door, and right in front of yours truly.
The minute his eyes landed on my bare legs; I felt a flush of heat wash over my skin. I didn’t feel the need to hide my body, not when I was thrilled that he was finally looking.
Besides, I wasn’t the self-conscious type. I had a nice body, and I wasn’t about to convince myself that I hadn’t, especially when the rest of the world was more than willing to chip away at a teenager’s self-esteem.
“Enjoying the show?” I teased, planting my hands on my hips, when his eyes continued to trail over me. I thought it was quite poetic that I returned the same sarcastic question he’d asked me once before.
In equally unapologetic fashion, he took his sweet time returning his gaze to my face. “It beats the view of your father’s ass crack, that’s for sure.”
I arched a brow. “It?”
Humor danced in his eyes, a rare change from the usual, generic fuck-the-world-and-everyone-in-it glower he doled out to just about everyone. “You.”
It wasn’t like we hadn’t seen each other during the summer. I’d swung by the garage on many the occasion to torment him when he was working with Dad, and I’d been to most of his and Paul’s matches, but we had been surrounded by friends or my dad.
Ridiculous as it sounded, I missed our little one-on-one moments.
Sure, they might have occurred against his will at times, but I knew that he enjoyed my banter as much as I enjoyed his.
Heart bucking wilder than necessary, given the fact that it was only the boy’s eyes that were on me, and not his hands, I reached up and brushed my thumb over his swollen bottom lip, addicted to tormenting him. “What’s that on your mouth, Joe; drool?”
“Don’t do that.” His green eyes darkened. “Not here.”
“Don’t do what?” Tone heavily laced with sarcasm, I traced his bottom lip with my thumb and grinned. “This?”
“Play your games when your father is across the landing.”
“Why not?” I teased, hell bent on playing games. “Are you afraid he’ll catch you looking at his daughter like you want to eat her up.” I stepped closer, waiting for him to crack and be the first to move away. “Do you, Joe? Do you want to eat me up?”
Reaching up, Joey snatched my wrist with his big hand, but instead of pushing me away like I was prepared for him to do, he pulled me towards him – so close that my body was pressed against his.
“Don’t try to fuck with my head, Molloy.” His voice was low and heated, and held the hint of warning. “I indulge you by playing your little games, but don’t push your luck.”
“My luck?” I breathed, heart racing violently, as I watched him watch me.
“Your luck,” he confirmed. “There’s only so far you can push me.”
I could do nothing but stare at his face and resist the urge to slap it – or kiss it.
I wasn’t sure which.
“I’m not Ricey. I won’t kiss your cheek and hold your hand,” he added, tone heated. “You keep goading me into touching you and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” His pupils dilated and my heart hammered recklessly against my ribcage. “You might think that you’re brave enough to take me on, to go toe to toe with me, but make no mistake about this.” Leaning in close, he pressed his lips to my ear, and whispered, “You’re not the wolf in our story, Molloy.“ His breath fanned my cheek, causing my pulse to skyrocket. “You’re the lamb.”
“What’s that, Joey, lad?” my father called out from where he was kneeling in the bathroom, with his back to the landing.
“Nothing, Tony,” Joey called back, not moving one muscle, as he turned his attention back to me. “You’re the sweet, innocent lamb that’s hellbent on playing with fire,” he said, walking me backwards until my legs hit my bed. “So, you might want to stop hunting me, Molloy.” His hands moved to my hips, and he literally tossed me down on the mattress. “Because if you don’t?” With my wrists pinned to the mattress above my head, he stepped between my legs and leaned in close, so close that his nose brushed mine. “Then one of these days, I’m going to hunt you back.”
Oh fuck.
“You got that?” Releasing one wrist, he swiftly cupped my chin and forced me to look at him. “Friend?”
“I’ve got it.” Breathless and feeling faint, I felt myself nodding. “Friend.”
“Good girl.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You dick.”
He grinned victoriously down at me before releasing me and walking out of my room to rejoin my father in the bathroom.
On shaky legs, I hurried towards my bedroom door and slammed it shut, before blowing out a ragged breath. “Holy shit.”
Did that just happen?