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“Don’t worry, my old flower,” Mr. Kavanagh said before tossing a packet to Gibsie. “I’ve got some for you, too.”

“Score!” Gibsie snickered as he ripped open the packet and wolfed them down in one mouthful.

“I don’t know about you, Gibs,” Feely said with a pained sigh. “I really don’t.”

“Take the boys back to the car, will you, love? I need to have a word with Joey before we go,” Mrs. Kavanagh said as she straightened up and smoothed down her dress. “You’re all more than welcome back to the house for some lunch.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, thanks a million, Mrs. Kavanagh.”

“Sound as a pound, Mammy K,” Gibsie chimed in. “I’ll be there with bells on.”

“And don’t you dare give those boys any more treats before their lunch, John.” Scowling at her husband, Mrs. Kavanagh leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his clean-shaven cheek before saying, “Or you won’t be gettingyourtreat.”

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny choked out, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Come on, Shan—” Gagging, he grabbed my hand and moved for the gate. “Let’s get out of here before we both start anxious puking.”

73

Picnics and Piercings

Johnny

It was a sweltering summer’s day, and under any other circumstances, I would have been stripped down to my jocks someplace close to a beach or a river, but my girlfriend had just buried both of her parents, so I sucked it up and settled for removing my tie and undoing the top three buttons of my dress shirt instead.

Eight of us were sprawled out in the back field of my house, still clad in our funeral clothes, watching as Tadhg, Ollie, and Sean played in the tree house. All of the grown-ups were back at the house, serving food and chatting general shite. It was too much for Shannon—I’d known it the moment we stepped through the door and she had been confronted with a fresh horde of sympathizers—so we had escaped outside with our friends and a mountain of food tucked under our arms.

Stretched out on the flat of my back in the grass, I curled a strand of her hair around my finger and inhaled deeply, breathing her scent into my chest and then sighing in contentment.

“I could stay here forever,” she whispered, voicing my thoughts aloud, from where she was nestled in the crook of my arm, baking in the summer sunshine. Tangling her fingers with mine, she nuzzled her cheek against my chest. “Just right here in this moment.”

“Hmm.” Nodding in agreement, I gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. “Me, too.”

“Well, I can’t take it anymore,” Gibsie announced with a huff. “I’m really sorry, little Shannon,” he added as he sat up and started ripping at the buttons of his shirt. “I know I’m supposed to be respectful and considerate of your feelings and shit—and I really am trying to be good here—but if I don’t get out of these clothes soon, you’re all going to be buryingme!” Yanking off his shirt, he tossed it on top of Claire, who was sprawled out beside him, before moving for the buckle of his belt. “My balls are sweating so bad, I’m going to chafe my gooch!”

I opened my mouth to give him a lecture about discussing his bollocks around my girlfriend, but the sound of her laughter had me holding my tongue. “What’s a gooch?”

“Oh my god, you did not just ask him that, Shan,” Lizzie grumbled from where she was making a daisy chain.

“Ew,” Katie groaned, joining her daisy chain to Lizzie’s one. “I hate that word.”

“Me, too,” Lizzie agreed. “It’s beyond disturbing.”

“What?” Shannon shrugged. “I don’t know what that is.”

“Me either,” Claire offered, holding her hand up.

“Well then.” Gibsie chuckled, rising to his feet. “It’s about time I gave you girls an education on the male form, isn’t it?”

“If you take your jocks off in front of my sister and my girlfriend, you won’t have a gooch left,” Hughie snarled, glaring at Gibsie who had his suit pants and shoes kicked off and was reaching for the waistband of his white boxers.

“Or a heartbeat,” I warned, pulling myself up on my elbows to glare at him. “Don’t even think about it, fucker.”

“Put your pants back on,” Feely said calmly. “There are kids up that tree.”

“I’m not putting my pants back on,” Gibsie shot back, looking outraged. “For the benefit of innocent eyes, I’ll agree to leave my jocks on, but that’s my best offer. It’s too damn hot.”

“Look at his boobies,” Ollie laughed from the tree house. Pointing a finger at Gibsie, he said, “He’s got earrings on them.”

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