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“How could you?” Feely offered in a good-natured tone. “You were busy setting the rugby world ablaze all summer.”

* * *

Johnny

“I love this song,” Shannon declared later that night when we parked out at the house, as “This Year’s Love” from David Gray drifted from the stereo.

“So, what’s the story with Hugh?”

“Honestly?” She turned in her seat to give me her full attention. “I have no idea.”

“That was fairly strange, though, yeah?” I thought back to the night’s events. “I’ve never known Hughie to storm off like that.” My brow furrowed as I racked my brain for the cause. “You’re sure he’s not on the outs with Katie? They barely spoke to each other all through dinner.”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“No.” Shannon shook her head, expression guilty. “I know I should be paying more attention, but honestly, I’ve spent most of my summer either watching you on the television, waiting for you to come home, or worrying about Joey.” She chewed on her bottom lip before adding, “I know that probably makes me a terrible friend, but I honestly don’t have any more room, Johnny.”

“Any more room for what, baby?”

“Pain,” she whispered, blue eyes locked on mine. “Sadness.”

My chest squeezed tight at her words. “Shan.”

“I’m happy,” she hurried to say, her words a breathy rush. “I’m so happy, Johnny. For the first time in my life. I feelsafe. I feelalive,good, and I just… I don’t… I want to stay in my happy place. Just for a little bit. Is that really bad of me?”

“No, Shan, that’s not bad.” I shook my head and smiled. “There’s no one else on this planet who deserves a reprieve from pain more than you, baby.”

Her eyes searched mine for a long moment before she exhaled what sounded like a relieved breath. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For understanding.” Unfastening her seat belt, she crawled onto my lap. “For being the kind of boy who doesn’t storm out of dinner and leave me behind.”

“To be fair, I have been known to storm out on occasion,” I offered with a chuckle. “But I would never leave you behind, Shannonlike the river.”

“I believe you,” she whispered, snuggling into my chest. “I really believe you, Johnny Kavanagh.”

“Good,” I replied gruffly, tightening my hold on her small frame. “Because when it comes to you, Shannon Lynch, I’m all in.”

“Me too.”

“Where you go, I go.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

81

Festivals and Fangirls

Shannon

When I woke up on the second morning of the music festival in Dublin, it was with a heavy heart and a belly full of dread. For the longest time, I just laid on my side in my sleeping bag, watching Johnny sleep beside me. I studied every inch of his beautiful face, taking in every freckle and scar and the way his thick, dark lashes fanned his cheekbones when he slept.

Memories of yesterday filled my mind and I smiled to myself, thinking about Johnny and Gibsie as they jumped around like a pair of lunatics to the Saw Doctors “N17.” With their arms wrapped around each other, they had chanted the words back to the band and leaped around like two crazed idiots. It washilarious. They had both been extremely drunk and enjoying each other’s company, uncaring of what they looked like in the moment, as they belly bashed one another and tried to outjump the other. “N17” had rolled into “Joyce Country Céilí Band” and then “I Useta Lover,” and they had danced along together, singing the words to each other like an old married couple.

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