Saving 6: Boys of Tommen #3

JANUARY 1ST 2004

AOIFE

“OH, YEAH, BABE, THAT’S IT,” Paul groaned, pressing me deeper into the mattress in the spare bedroom he’d pulled me into.

Instead of being downstairs having a good time at the party like I had been doing, I was currently sprawled out, half-naked, beneath my drunk as a skunk boyfriend, while I sweated vodka and plotted my escape.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Paul continued to purr, as he groped and pulled at my bare breasts like they were his personal play toys. “Fuck me, I can’t wait to ram my dick inside ya,” he added gruffly, trailing his tongue up my neck. “I’m going to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to walk straight for a week afterwards.”

Wow.

The words every virgin wanted to hear.

His hands moved to the elastic waistband of my thong, and I clamped up. “Wait.”

“No,” he groaned, burying his face between my breasts. “No, no, no, don’t say wait.”

“Wait,” I repeated, chest heaving, as I slapped his hand away from my knickers. “Wait.”

“It’s been three and a half years, Aoif,” he whined, pressing sloppy, wet kisses to my neck. “Four in February. Haven’t I earned your v-card by now?”

V-card?

“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t want to do this here.”

“Shh, it’s fine, here is perfect. It’s New Year’s Eve. Very romantic.”

“It’s not happening, Paul,” I argued, slapping against his chest, in my bid to get the big, drunk bastard off me. “Now get off me.”

“For fuck’s sake, Aoife,” he snapped, rolling off me and onto his back. “This is bullshit. How is it that I’m the only fella in our year with a long-term girlfriend and still the only fella not fucking getting any.”

“I’m not there yet,” I explained, sliding to the edge of the bed. “I’m not ready to have sex with you, and I’m not about to be pressured into having sex with you at a shitty New Year’s Eve party, either,” I bit out, reaching for my bra on the bedroom floor.

“Then at least suck me off.”

I glared at him palming his cock. “Put that thing near my face, and I’ll bite it off you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

“You’re such a bitch.”

“If you can’t be patient and wait until I am ready, then that’s on you, not me.”

“Well, what if I can’t?” He sat up and glared at me. “What if I’m tired of waiting for you to pry open those Virgin Mary legs?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Then we have nothing left to say to each other.”

“Fine, then fuck off and find some other misfortunate bastard to walk you home tonight,” he snapped, throwing the covers off himself and jerking to his feet. “Because I don’t even want to look at you right now.’

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” I strangled out, feeling weirdly emotional at his cold rejection. “I told you that I’m just not ready for sex, okay?”

‘And I told you that I don’t want to look at ya,’ he sneered, as he yanked on his boxers. ‘So, you can fuck me, or you can leave.”

The words were no sooner out of my mouth when the bedroom door flew inwards.

“Not here,” Danielle purred, as she pulled at the buckle of a shirtless Joey’s belt. “Let’s go in my room instead.”

Pain.

It ricocheted through me like a knife.

Clearly high on whatever concoction he’d taken after I left him earlier, Joey swayed against her, eyes bleary and unfocused, as he reached for her waist and pulled her towards him. “Here’s grand.”

Ouch.

It hurt.

It hurt so bad that I had to suck in a sharp breath to catch my breath.

“Oh, sorry guys,” Danielle squeaked, when she noticed our presence. “We were just…” Her voice trailed off as her cheeks reddened. “Well, um, you know…”

“It’s fine.” Swallowing down the bile in my throat, I quickly turned my back to the door as I slipped on my bra and shrugged on my jeans. “We were just leaving.”

“See? They’re fucking, and I can guarantee that he didn’t have to spend three years convincing her either,” Paul spat, roughly throwing my t-shirt across the room at me. “Come on, Aoife, this is what lads my age are supposed to be doing.”

“Then I mean it both figuratively and literally when I tell you to go fuck yourself, Paul,” I hissed as I quickly pulled my t-shirt back on, feeling the stinging threat of tears in my eyes.

“Fuck you,” Paul sneered. “Enjoy the walk home in the dark on your own. I hope there aren’t any weirdos lurking in the bushes.”

“You can have the room, Danielle. I was just leaving,” I choked out, face burning, as I slipped my feet into my ballerina pumps and moved for the door, which just so happened to be blocked by Joey, who was slumping against the doorframe.

Great.

This was just epic.

His eyes landed on my face, and I swear I saw a flicker of recognition pass through them before he shook his head and turned away from me.

“Is he okay?” I asked, slipping past his tall frame.

“He’s fine,” Danielle assured me, as she slung his arm over her shoulder and led him down the hall to her bedroom. ”Happy new year!”

Whatever happened between Joey and Danielle in her bedroom had clearly been exactly what she wanted, because when she came back downstairs afterwards, she was so happy with herself that she was practically floating.

Disgusted with myself for the abnormal level of jealousy I had steered towards a girl who had never done anything to me, I tried to pull myself out of my dark mood, but the truth was that I just couldn’t.

Numb to the bone, not to mention well and truly sober now, I sat on the couch in her sitting room, and watched as the crowd slowly dwindled, until there were only a handful of us left.

I should have gone home hours ago, but I couldn’t seem to get my feet to walk out the front door. Not when he was still upstairs, completely fucking out of it.

I knew it should be Paul I was thinking about, upstairs and alone in the room I’d abandoned him in, but it wasn’t.

It was Joey.

I liked that he was a little fucked up.

I adored his sharp edges, and I loved his broken pieces.

I liked him even though I knew he’d just given my classmate everything Paul had tried to give me.

What did that say about me?

I just fucking liked him.

So much that it hurt the skin covering my chest.

Jesus.

Unable to stick the not knowing a second longer, I sprang to my feet and bolted for the staircase, catching a glimpse of Danielle in the doorway of the kitchen as I went.

Stay put.

Stay put.

Stay put.

Rounding the banister, I hurried past the room I’d shared with Paul a few hours ago and went straight for the door at the end of the hall.

It was cracked open, so when I slipped inside, I didn’t make a sound.

“Joey?” I whispered into the darkness, as I felt my way over to the bed. Finding a lamp on the locker, I flicked it on, bathing the room in a soft yellow hue. “Joe?”

“Molloy,” he groaned, twisting his face into the mattress.

My heart both cracked and soared at the sound.

Soared because even in his worst state, he knew my voice.

Cracked because he was naked in another girl’s bed, with a used condom strewn on the bedroom floor.

“Are you okay?” I heard myself ask, heart racing, as I looked down at where he was sprawled out, what I presumed, naked under Danielle’s pink floral duvet.

The covers were draped over his hips, leaving the rest of his body exposed, and revealing a huge crucifix tattoo on his back.

“No,” Joey groaned, keeping his face buried in the sheets. “Fuck.”

Exhaling a shaky breath, I gingerly sat on the edge of the bed next to him. “What did you take?”

“I fucked up, Molloy,” he slurred, twisted his head from side to side. “Again.”

“Yeah, you did.” Sighing heavily, I placed my hand on his shoulder, and watched as the muscles in his back physically tensed under my touch. “What am I going to do with you, huh?”

My breath hitched in my throat at the sight when my gaze landed on a long, five- or six-inch scar going diagonally across his back. It was concealed behind the crucifix tattoo, but if you looked close enough it was plain to see.

“Is that from a belt?” I heard myself whisper, not even trying to stop myself from trailing a finger over the other deep ridges and grooved scars that seemed to be littered across his flesh. Most seemed old, like they had been imprinted on him a long time ago, but some of them were more recent. “And this one?”

“Probably,” he mumbled drowsily “Don’t look.”

“What happened to your back, Joe?” Heart in my mouth, I continued to trail my fingers over his marred skin, feeling the ache in my chest spread as the seconds passed by. “Where did all these scars come from – and don’t say fighting.”

“Fighting,” he said anyway, before rolling onto his back. “Christ, my head is hopping.”

“Yeah,” I replied, reaching up to smooth his blond hair back. “I bet it is.”

“You’re really here.” He cracked a lid open and peered up at me. “Thought I dreamt you up.” And then he looked at me, completely spaced out of his mind, with lipstick smeared across his mouth and cheek. “Hey.”

“Hey.” My stomach bottomed out at the sight. “You shouldn’t give yourself away to the likes of her,” I whispered, giving him back the words he’d spoken to me a long time ago.

A flash of recognition filled his eyes, causing his nostrils to flare. “Molloy.”

“It hurts,” I admitted softly, reaching down to rub the lipstick off him. “This hurts me.”

“I would never hurt you, Molloy,” he slurred, his words a lot like his life, a broken mess. “I’d rather die than hurt you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.” Releasing a pained groaned, he croaked out, “Only thing I’ve ever done right in my life is leave you alone.”

My eyes filled with tears, and I quickly blinked them away, but not before one lone tear dripped from my cheek and landed on his bare chest.

“You’re crying.” A bleary sort of anxiety filled his features as he slowly pulled himself up on his elbows. “Why? What did I do?”

“I’m grand.” Shaking my head, I tucked my hair behind my ear, feeling his hot breath on my cheek. “I’m okay.”

He looked around us then, his eyes raking in the unfamiliar bedroom, as confusion swept over him. “Did I?” His gaze settled back on mine, wild and panicked, as he sat straight up. “Did we?”

“No.” Shaking my head, I forced out the bitter truth, “Not us.”

“Fuck.” His body visibly sagged. “Molloy.”

“Don’t stay here.” My breath hitched in my throat, and I dropped my gaze to the mattress, to where the smell of sex was still in the air. “In this bed.” I exhaled a ragged breath, hating the plea as it came stumbling out of my mouth, “With her.”

Joey tipped my chin up and forced me to look at him, as he stared so hard the green orbs of his iris’s darkened to coal.

“Okay,” he finally said, thumb stroking over the curve of my bottom lip, as I leaned my cheek into his big hand. “I won’t.”

A little while later, I was walking the familiar trek back to my house.

With his hood pulled up, and his hands shoved into the front of his hoodie, Joey looked exactly like he always did when he walked me home.

A little pissed off, and a lot sexy.

I didn’t have the energy to joke around with him tonight, though, or even speak.

So instead, we walked in silence with a cloud of bitterness hanging over our heads.

“Thanks,” I said when we reached my gate. “For walking me home, and, um, well, you know.”

“It’s grand.” He kept his hands in his pockets, as he watched me close the garden gate behind me. “I’ll see you at school next week.”

“Yeah.” Nodding, I lingered in front of the gate, watching him watch me. “I suppose you will.”

He nodded stiffly, but made no move to leave, and neither did I.

“I thought I hurt you tonight,” he finally said, breaking the heavy silence between us. “When I woke up and saw you there? I thought I did something we couldn’t take back. I was so fucking relieved when you told me that we didn’t.” Exhaling a heavy sigh, he added, “But the way you’re looking at me right now makes me wish we had.” He shook his head and turned to walk away. “At least if we had, then I could understand the disappointed look in your eyes.”

“Joe.” I sucked in a sharp breath as he started to walk away. “Joey, wait I—”

“I’ll be seeing ya, Molloy,” he called over his shoulder.

And then he was gone.