“You go do that, lad,” Feely mused, slapping a roll of toilet paper on top of the case of beer in Gibsie’s arms before he hurried off into the bushes. “We’re all shiny, happy people here.”
“Now listen up,” Johnny said, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “I personally couldn’t give a shite if you’re happy to be here or not. I don’t care if you’re being a pack of spoilt brats because we’re still in Cork. I don’t care if you don’t particularly like one another. I don’t care if you’re in a fight with each other. I don’t even care that it’s my eighteenth. I. Don’t. Care. Not one iota of fucks do I give about any of that crap,” he growled, glaring at Katie, Hughie, and Lizzie.
“Icarethat I have two days left with my girlfriend—two days—and then I’m gone for the summer. We’ve had a hard year. We’ve had surgeries and funerals, fires and loss. We’ve seen more hospitals and tears than you could comprehend in your little pea brains, and suffered some serious fucking upheaval. This is our break—our little time-out from all the shite back home, so you are not going to mess this up for me, and you’re definitely not going to mess this up forher. Are we clear?”
“As a whistle,” Feely replied.
“Notyou,” Johnny shot back. “Them.”
“Jesus, you’re right,” Hughie said, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry, guys.”
“Yeah,” Katie agreed, red-faced. “We were being selfish.”
“Me too,” Lizzie sighed. “Sorry, Shan, I didn’t even think about what this trip meant for you and Johnny.”
“A lot,” Johnny bit out. “It means a lot for us.”
They all nodded in understanding.
“Then let’s get this show on the road,” Feely declared, grabbing an armful of bags. “Onward and upward.”
Ignoring the huffing and puffing around me, I focused my attention on ogling my boyfriend, appreciating the way the blue swimming trunks he was wearing hung low on his indented hips. There was a deep V between his hip bones, a clear sign that he took very good care of his body, and a trail of dark hair from his navel that disappeared beneath the waistband of his shorts. His thighs were thick with muscle—his calves, too. Everything about Johnny was just so tight and toned andhuge.
“Like what you see?” he asked, catching me staring.
I blushed beet red. “Uh, sorry?”
Chuckling softly to himself, Johnny closed the boot of his car and grabbed our bags off the ground. “Come on, my little Peeping Tom,” he teased, slinging an arm over my shoulder. “But don’t feel bad for staring.” He leaned close to my ear before whispering, “I’ve been doing some peeping of my own.”
“Yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “Sure you have.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re wearing a white vest and no bra. You’re lucky I didn’t crash the bleeding car on the way up here, I was staring at you so hard,” he shot back with a wolfish grin. “I was winding that car window down andwillingthe breeze to get you.”
“Oh my god,” I laughed, wrapping an arm around him. “You’re so weird.”
“Yeah, that’s probably true,” he agreed with a chuckle. “This is going to be a good trip, Shan.”
“Yeah.” I sighed contently. “I think you’re right.”
* * *
“You’re doing it wrong again!” Lizzie hissed, shoving at Gibsie’s chest when he attempted to help her and Claire erect their tent. “You’re so bloody clueless.”
“Do you see mine and Feely’s pitched tent over there?” Gibsie bit out tightly, threading the pole through the fabric. “Looks a lot better than yours, doesn’t it? Because Iknowwhat I’m doing, so get off my back!”
“But the instructions say you’re supposed to do it this way,” Lizzie continued to argue, waving a sheet of paper in his face. “Would you just put that damn pole down and look at this! Come on, don’t be thick and just look at the instructions!”
“Oh, yeah, sure. No problem—” Grabbing the instructions out of her hands, Gibsie balled the paper up and threw it in the river. “That’s what I think of your instructions.”
“Why did you do that?” Lizzie demanded, slapping his chest again. “I was trying to show you—”
“Because I can’t fuckingreadthem,” he roared in her face. “And I don’t need you to show me anything.”
“Guys, stop,” Claire warned, stepping in between them. “Liz, don’t push him.”
“It was a picture,” Lizzie screamed right back at him, stepping around Claire to get up in Gibsie’s face again. “I wasn’t mocking your learning difficulties.”
“No, of course you weren’t,” he shot back with a sneer. “You were just calling me thick and clueless for the fun of it.” Bristling, he shook his head and continued threading the pole through the loops in the fabric of the tent. “It’s all just shits and giggles for you, isn’t it, Liz? You can say whatever the hell you want to anyone, and we’re all supposed to justtakeit because you haveissues.”