Page 243 of Keeping 13

“If you’re good,” she replied, patting his shoulder.

“What?” Gibsie’s voice rose so high, it was almost girlish. “I mean—” He roughly cleared his throat several times before adding, “What?”

Feely chuckled quietly. “Lost for words, Gibs? That’s a first.”

“I know, right?” Claire giggled, using her finger to close Gibsie’s mouth. “I think I broke him.”

“So, will you come tonight?” Johnny asked, drawing my attention back to him. “Please?It would mean a lot to me.”

“Okay,” I whispered, forcing out the word when all I wanted was to say no and hide. “I’ll come.”

He turned to look at me and beamed. “Really?”

Oh god, that smile.“Really,” I confirmed, heart racing. “If you’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” he replied, eyes blazing with heat.

“I know I’m not supposed to talk to you,” Gibsie interjected. “But eyes on the road, Cap. I have a very pressing dinner arrangement to get to this evening, with a tantalizing main course up for grabs, and I don’t want to be showing up dead to it.”

“What— Oh, Jesus!” Johnny barked, swerving the wheel and narrowly avoiding the traffic coming in the opposite direction. “I think I ran a red light,” he added, cheeks reddening.

“You sure did, bulldozer,” Gibsie mused, patting his shoulder.

“What’s that thing he’s always saying to the lads, Gibs?” Feely added. “Oh yeah: Get your head out of the girl and onto the road.”

“Funny,” Johnny said. “Very funny.”

“What are we doing for your birthday, Johnny?” Claire asked then. “It’s only, what—three weeks away?”

“We?” Johnny arched a brow. “I didn’t know we were ‘we’ kind of friends, Claire.”

Claire made apsshnoise. “Your girlfriend is my best friend, Johnny Kavanagh, which means I’m going to be at your party. I’m going to be a lot of places you are. Like your car right now. So get on board with it and tell me what you want for your present.”

“I’m turning eighteen, not eight.” Johnny laughed. “And I’m not having a party, so don’t buy me any bleeding presents.”

“Oh yes, you fucking are having a party,” Gibsie countered. “A big one. With cake, cocktail sausages, and a shit ton of tequila.”

“Tequila again?” Feely glared at Gibsie. “Really?”

“Listen, I’m not going to sit here and apologize for something that happened a million years ago,” Gibsie huffed. “I puked on your dog, Feely. It was a genuine mistake. I’ve done it to Sookie a million times, and you don’t see her giving me the cold shoulder. And I haven’t done it since, so can we please move past it?”

“I don’t have a dog. That was my mother you puked on!” Feely snapped, sounding outraged. “And it was last Christmas, not a million years ago, asshole.”

“What?” Gibsie frowned. “That was your mam?”

“Yes, asshole!”

“Ah, lad, I’m so fucking sorry,” Gibsie choked out, slapping a hand across his mouth. “I thought she was a dog.”

“Not making it any better, Gibs,” Johnny mused, lips twitching.

“I didn’t mean thatshelooks like a dog,” Gibsie quickly corrected. “But she was so soft and furry—”

“Repress it,” Johnny ordered.

Gibsie frowned. “Hey, is that why your parents won’t—”

“Won’t let you step foot inside the house anymore?” Feely filled in, giving him a dirty look. “Yes, Gibs. That’s exactly why.”