Saving 6: Boys of Tommen #3

SEPTEMBER 19TH 2004

AOIFE

“ARE YOU OKAY?” I asked Joey, several hours later, when we arrived back to my house after the most epic birthday party ever.

“Yeah, Molloy, I’m fine,” he replied, dropping my heels and a stack of birthday cards on my bed. “It’s all good.”

Leaning heavily against my closed bedroom door, I watched as my boyfriend shook out his hands and walked over to my bedroom window.

The tension emanating from his frame assured me that he was anything but fine.

“You sure, Joe?”

“Yeah,” he called over his shoulder, as he leaned against the windowsill and stared out of the pane of glass. “It’s all good.”

It clearly wasn’t and I wasn’t nearly drunk to believe otherwise.

Moving over to my stereo, I racked my brain to uncover what I might have done to put him in such a weird move, while I pressed play on a random CD.

Britney’s Everytime wafted through the air, and I heard myself say, “If you’re feeling weird about staying here tonight, then don’t. My parents know and they’re fine with it.” Closing the space between us, I wrapped my arms around his waist, and pressed a kiss to the middle of his back. “I don’t love you.”

Sighing heavily, he covered my hands with his and whispered, “I don’t love you back.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Forcing him to turn and look at me, I reached up and cupped his face between my hands. “Why do you look so sad?” I was drunk, but not drunk enough to miss the lonesome look in his eyes. “Talk to me.”

“I’m not sad, Molloy,” he replied, hands settling on my hips. “I’m just…”

“You’re just what?”

“Worried.”

My brows rose in surprise. “About what?”

“My sister,” he confessed quietly, and then blew out a pained breath. “My brothers.”

My heart sank into my chest. “Oh.”

“I don’t like leaving them at night.”

Depressed at where this was going, I heard myself ask, “Do you want to go home?”

“No,” he surprised me by saying. “That’s the thing, Molloy.” He shook his head, eyes filling with guilt, and said, “Leaving this room is the last thing I want to do.”

“Then stay,” I whispered, pulling him close enough to touch his forehead against mine. “Stay right here with me.” Stroking my nose against his, I tightened my arms around his neck, and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I need you, too, Joe.”

I need you safe and unharmed and the only way I can make sure that happens is if you stay right here with me.

His eyes burned with conflicting emotions. “Molloy.”

“I do. I need you, too,” I choked out, holding on for dear life. “I need you to stay right here with me, because if you leave me now, I won’t be able to breathe until I see you again.”

The fact that he had necked at least a dozen shots with me tonight gave me a slight advantage against his ridiculously unyielding moral compass when it came to his siblings.

If I was dealing with sober Joey, he would go home, regardless of how much I begged him not to.

But I was dealing with drunk Joey, and drunk Joey was vulnerable to persuasion.

“Please stay,” I whispered, hand snaking up to clutch the small silver chain he always wore around his neck, as I slowly backed towards my bed, taking this beautiful boy with me. “It can be my birthday present.” The back of my legs hit the bed, and I fell backwards, taking his big body with me. “Please.” Breathing hard against his mouth, I pressed a searing kiss to his swollen lips. “I want this face to be this first thing I see when I open my eyes in the morning.”

“Okay,” he mumbled against my lips. “I’ll stay with you, Molloy.”

Thrilled that he relented so easily, I threw myself into the moment, into feeling his body on mine, his hard edges against my soft ones, as we touched each other in ways that should have been illegal.

Later that night, as we lay in bed, facing each other, he broke the silence by saying, “I did, you know.”

“You did what?”

“Get you a present.”

A smile spread across my face. “Yeah?”

Nodding, he quickly rolled out from under the covers and reached for his discarded jeans.

“It’s nothing as flashy as you’re used to from Ricey,” he warned when he climbed back into bed and tossed a small black jewelry box on the mattress between us, along with a half-melted packet of Rolos.

My heart fluttered. “A whole pack just for me?”

He winked. “I told you I would. And if you don’t like the other thing, then it’s tough shit because Shannon washed the receipt with my clothes.”

Excited, I snatched up the box and flipped the lid open.

Resting against the velvet padding interior was a tiny silver locket with the date 30.08.99 on the front.

“That date…” I blew out a shaky breath. “It’s—

“The first day of first year,” he explained quietly. “The first time I laid eyes on you, and the first time I understood what it meant to have my heart beating for someone outside of my family.”

My heart squeezed so tight in my chest it was hard to breathe. “Joe.”

‘When I say I don’t love you,’ he continued, nuzzling his face in my neck. “It’s the furthest thing from the truth.”

Love.

He was talking about loving me.

“It’s okay, Joe,” I whispered, fastening the locket around my neck. “I’m used to your denial by now. I already know how you feel.”

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t have to be used to it, Molloy. I hear you say the words, and I know that I feel it back. I do. But I just…” He shook his head in frustration. “I just don’t know how to not do it.”

“Not do what, Joe?”

“Reject human affection.”

My heart.

My poor, poor heart.

It’s because of your shitty parents.

Because they treat you like a dog instead of a son.

“It’s okay,” I croaked out, shifting closer until I was snuggled up to his chest. “We can handle the words the same way we handle sex.” Pressing a kiss to his chest, I whispered, “Except in this instance you set the pace, and I’ll fall in line.”

“That sounds like a plan,” he agreed gruffly.

“Yeah.” I closed my eyes and sighed in contentment. “It does.”