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“Don’t feel bad, Johnny,” Claire said, plopping down on his bed as if she owned it. “Your parents are both hot, and hot people tend to have hot sex with one another.”

“Wow, Claire, thanks so much for the insight,” Johnny quipped. “I feel a lot better now.”

“You’re welcome,” she chirped, sifting through a stack of magazines and papers on his bedside locker.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, lad.” Gibsie snickered, sprawling out on the bed beside Claire. “Your father’s a legend.”

“Fuck right off,” Johnny growled.

“Aww,” Claire gushed, holding a newspaper up for me to see. “Look at the two of you.”

My gaze landed on the huge two-page spread from several months ago when Tommen won the School Boy Shield. In the picture, Johnny had his arm wrapped around me and I was grinning like a maniac at the camera. “You should have this on your wall of fame,” she stated, giving Johnny a scathing look as she bounced off the bed with the newspaper in hand. “It’s ridiculous that you don’t have a photo of your girlfriend in here.”

“I’m kind of in the middle of a personal crisis here,” Johnny grumbled, nuzzling my stomach with his nose. “I haven’t had time to redecorate.”

“Well, I can do that for you.”

“Claire,” I warned, feeling my cheeks grow hot. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters,” she replied, carefully tearing the page out. “You’re a babe,” she added, standing in front of Johnny’s desk and scrutinizing the corkboard hanging over it. “Now which one of you is losing their thumbtack?” She made a clucking sound with her tongue before grabbing a picture off the board. “Sorry, BOD, you treasure of a man,” she mused, pressing a kiss to the photograph in her hand. “But I need your spot.”

“Claire—”

“Let her do it,” Johnny interrupted. “I meant to hang it up ages ago anyway.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” Gibsie asked then. “I’m bored.”

“You’re always bored,” Johnny shot back.

“Because you’re boring,” Gibsie countered.

“If I’m boring, fuck off home and find someone else to torment,” Johnny grumbled.

“I can’t,” Gibsie mused. “You might be a boring fucker, but I’m awfully fond of you, and I always miss you too much when we’re apart.”

“Jesus…” Grumbling to himself, Johnny rolled onto his back and said, “Fine. What do you want to do, Gibs?”

“I don’t know, Johnny,” Gibsie replied, smirking. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to go back in time andnotsee my da boning my ma on the bleeding counter,” Johnny said, lifting himself up on his elbows to glare at his friend. “But since I haven’t perfected the art of time traveling, I’m going to go with bleaching my eyeballs instead. Sound like fun?”

“Only if I get the full experience of seeing your mother naked, too,” Gibsie shot back. “Although God himself couldn’t make me erase the mental image of your mother—”

“Get out of my room,” Johnny snarled, causing Gibsie to roll around on his bed laughing.

“Why don’t we go into the city?” Claire offered, as she rearranged Johnny’s entire corkboard of pictures and autographs. “We could get a bite to eat first and go to the cinema afterward.” Dragging the desk chair over to the wall, she climbed onto it and reached for the pictures of the naked women tacked to his bedroom walls. “Oh, and I’m confiscating these, pervert,” she told him. “Just letting you know.”

“Go for it,” Johnny replied, clearly unaffected, as he dropped back down to rest his head on my thighs. “What do you think, Shan?” he asked, looking up at me from his perch on my lap. “Do you want to go?”

“Uh…” Embarrassed, I looked around the room aimlessly before leaning close to his ear and whispering, “I don’t have any money.”

“I have,” Johnny whispered back, holding my head in place with his hands. “And I’m paying.” Pressing a kiss to my lips, he added, “So don’t overthink this.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, feeling embarrassed.

“I’m always sure,” he replied. “Stop worrying.”

“If we’re going, you’re going to have to disentangle yourself from little Shannon and drive,” Gibsie interjected. “Because I’m not comfortable with the roundabouts yet.”

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