CHAPTER 013
his knight in shining leather

JOHNNY

  PUBS AND BARS were temptations Johnny forced himself to stay away from. With his rigorous training, he couldn't afford to mess up like his friends could. Alcohol wasn't in his diet, and he was already feeling sluggish days after each session.

  However, Gibsie's seventeenth birthday was his exception. After relentless calls and texts, he finally gave in to celebrate with him and some teammates at Biddies.

  Biddies was their local haunt in town. They served the best food in town, and on nights, it transformed into the hub for the town's younger generation.

  Johnny ate there a lot when his folks weren't home, oftentimes joined by Declan. Liam, the co-owner and head chef, always catered to his dietary needs. It was the only place in town he knew guaranteed clean food. On nights, he didn't usually drink, since that was normally Gibsie's thing. And when he did, they'd both end up getting served and shitfaced.

  This was a bad idea, considering they had a club match tomorrow morning. However, Gibsie justified this recklessness by saying a lad only turns seventeen once. That sentiment did have a point.

  The problem was that it wasn't easy for him.

  The lads could get loose all night long, and the only shit they'd get would be from their mothers. On the other hand, if he messed up, his name would be publicly dragged through the mud, and his position at The Academy would be in jeopardy.

  Tonight was the worst for so many reasons.

  First off, Johnny was seventeen and gave into Gibsie's relentless peer pressure by drinking himself into a semi-paraletic state like him.

  Second of all, Bella was here.

Both of these were guaranteed some type of disastrous ending.

Within minutes of his arrival at the bar, it became pretty clear that Cormac wasn't Bella's top priority. The minute he sat down at the table with the lads, she made a beeline for his lap and hadn't left since.

Johnny spent most of the night trying to avoid making eye contact with the short skirt she was wearing and the view of that scrap of black lace between her thighs whenever she bent over the table to whisper something in one of her friend's ears. It was physically painful.

Not because he had some emotionally charged reaction towards her, but because his balls ached.

It wasn't that Bella wasn't an attractive girl.

The issue was that he was done.

He was over it, whatever the hell happened between them, and had been for the longest time. He certainly wasn't interested in stepping back into the ring for another round.

It didn't seem to make a difference to the girl because she was like a dog with a bone.

Johnny being the bone.

He'd lost count of the number of times he went back to the bar for another round just so he could reposition himself on a seat far away from her.

It never worked.

Her ass always found its way back to his lap, and he just ended up getting drunk faster. No matter how many times he said the word no, she would not leave him alone.

He didn't want to embarrass or hurt the girl, though. He wasn't that much of a prick. Which was why he was tolerating this shite.

By half one, his head was swimming; the alcohol in his veins, mixed with the strong-ass medication he still had to take, made him clumsy and uncoordinated.

On a bright note, he wasn't in pain anymore.

He couldn't feel a fucking thing.

Fantastic.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" Bella purred, leaning close to his ear. Sliding her hand into the opening of his shirt, she trailed her fingers over his collarbone. "Somewhere a little more private?"

"No." Shaking his head, Johnny brushed her hand aside—the one that was tiptoeing up his arm—and reached for the vodka and red bull he'd switched to eight pints in. His movements were clumsy, causing his drink to slosh over the rim of the glass and onto the knee of his jeans.

  All bleeding night, she'd been trying to kiss and pet him. And all bleeding night, he'd been turning his head and brushing off her wandering hands.

  He wasn't a PDA kind of guy and she knew this. Sitting on his lap wasn't something he usually tolerated when they were on good terms. The only reason she hasn't been ejected from his lap yet was because he was drunk as fuck and didn't want to accidentally drop her on the floor..

  "Come on, sexy." Bella reached for the collar of his shirt again. "We could always go out to the car?" she suggested, undoing another button. The fourth time.

  "No, Bella," he grumbled, his words coming out slurred. "Stop doing that." Capturing her hand, Johnny removed it from his shirt and placed it back on her lap. "I'm not in the mood."

"I can get you in the mood," she teased, hand moving to his belt buckle.

"Stop." Johnny snagged her hand and placed it firmly on her lap. Again. "I'm still recovering—and we're done."

"Oh really?" She slid her hand inside his shirt, ignoring the 'we're done' part. "I can change that, too."

"No." Johnny brushed her other hand away from his crotch, grunting in pain when she roughly palmed his dick. "Bella, stop –" he paused to shake off the hand curling around the back of his neck. "Please just stop."

"Stop?" Bella snapped, glaring at him.

"Yes." Setting her hand back down on her thigh, he shifted out from beneath her. "I'm tired."

"You're always tired, Johnny!" she bit out. "And you're never in the mood anymore."

I wonder fucking why, he thought to himself, but held his tongue. Those words could—and would—be misconstrued to her advantage.

Drunk as he was, he remembered exactly what he was taught at The Academy, and this girl would not get a rise out of him.

Not tonight, Satan.

Shrugging, he casted a bleary gaze around their table.

Their friends were watching.

No surprises there.

His gaze landed on Gibsie. Johnny gave him his best 'you're a fucking bastard' glare. Gibsie returned with an apologetic grimace.

"Don't ignore me when I'm talking to you," Bella demanded, voice high and pitchy, which let his drunk self know she was in worse condition.

"I'm not ignoring you," Johnny replied, trying to remain calm through the haziness.

"Yes," she hissed, voice rising. "You are!"

"No, Bella." he released a weary sigh. "I'm not."

Before she could make another advance, red wine splattered all over her gold dress. Bella shrieked loudly, instantly getting up, placing her hand on his shoulder. Her dress was soaked and ruined.

Johnny looked over at the culprit, his heart skipping a beat.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" Vanessa gasped, apologizing sweetly to Bella, though there was no ounce of remorse in her tone. "I'm so clumsy. My hand just slipped."

Thank fuck for Vanessa Lynch.

There she was, wearing a black laced corset top, with a pair of black leather, skin-tight pants, and combat boots. Her hair was tied into a braid, and her eyeshadow was smokey.

She was so fucking gorgeous as always. It physically hurt. His own knight in shining leather.

In this moment, all he wanted to do was press his lips against hers, and forget he ever did anything with someone else. He used his last bit of restraint to stay in place.

"Ugh, what is wrong with you?" Bella snapped angrily, trying to wipe it. "My dress is ruined!"

"Oh boo-hoo!" Vanessa rolled her eyes. "Cry a river, build a bridge, and buy a new one."

  "Who the fuck even are you?"

  "A daydream or a nightmare," Vanessa smirked, slapping her hand off his shoulder. "Take your pick."

Daydream. Definitely Johnny's daydream.

  It was clear that Vanessa wasn't sober, either. Not full blown drunk, but just a bit tipsy.

  "Excuse me, sir," she looked over at Johnny, as if he's some stranger. "Is she bothering you?"

In different circumstances, he'd be amused. But right now, he just needed Bella away from him.

  "Yes." Johnny nodded furiously, going along. "Yes she is."

"He wants this!" Bella snarled, quickly sitting back down on his lap, smashing her lips against his.

Because of the alcohol coursing through his veins, it took a few seconds to register what was happening. Just as he realized, Vanessa grabbed Bella, throwing her off. With a loud thud, she was lying on the ground.

  "You bitch!" she screeched, sitting up.

  "I can be that too," Vanessa shrugged, completely unfazed by the attention she'd gotten. The whole table and most of the bar was watching them.

"No means fucking no." Her expression hardened into a glare, and she crossed her arms. "you're honestly just pathetic."

"You don't know anything about us!"

"No she does," Johnny cut in, also glaring at Bella. "Like I've been trying to tell you—I don't want you."

He instantly regretted those words, since Bella burst into tears. She quickly got up and ran away. Half a dozen of girls at the table gave him a dirty look, since they now saw him as the horrible bastard making a girl cry.

Vanessa seemed pretty pleased, though. "Finally." she laughed.

Then another boy appeared, ginger hair, and looked about the same age. He looked half-amused and half-exasperated. He gently grabbed Vanessa's arm, leading her away. "Alright, shows over, Loch-Ness. Casey's already in the car."

  Johnny's brow furrowed. Who was this guy? How'd he know Vanessa?

"Fine," Vanessa huffed, letting him take her away.

  She glanced over her shoulder one last time at Johnny—giving him a playful wink. Then she and her friend exited the pub.

Ignoring the looks from the rest of the table, Johnny stood up, walking outside. He tried looking for Vanessa, but she and her friend were already gone.

Great. The only girl he actually wanted to see was gone.

Johnny dragged his phone out of his jean pocket, ringing up a taxi. He was relieved when the voice on the other end said, "five minutes".

He needed to get the fuck out of here and away from his poor decisions. Also known as, Bella.

For a moment, he was glad his body was too broken. Glad he wasn't able to have sex since Halloween. It gave him a sense of clarity, making him realize just how much of a mistake she was. He'd rather peel off skin than ever do anything with her.

Never fucking again.

Leaning against the pub wall, Johnny's thoughts drifted back to a certain blonde bombshell who made him lose all his senses.

Johnny usually had everything planned out in intricate detail. He's not reckless or spontaneous, or lets himself get distracted. He couldn't afford that. But God, he could not find it in himself to stay away from that girl.

Not when she was so close. She sat his table, was friends with Gibsie, Shannon's older sister...their paths have crossed so many times. Hell, she even came over to his house!

He ditched class with her to watch a movie on Valentine's Day. Mind you, it was his idea. Then he kissed her. He initiated it. All throughout the week, they've been sneaking time together. Whenever he was with her, all his logical senses flew out the window. He didn't have the Academy or pressure breathing down his back. Around her, Johnny felt free—like he was getting a taste of what other teens had.

Vanessa didn't see him as a rugby star. She didn't seem to care or acknowledge his big reputation. Sure, it deflated his ego a little bit at first, but it felt nice. She didn't put him up on a pedestal, and called him out on his shit.Vanessa was still sharp around the edges, and could be a little scary, but she was warming up to him. He could tell she was also enjoying this little thrill they had going on.

Maybe she needed him in the way he needed her.

She was so bleeding beautiful.

Her touch.

Her voice.

Her kisses.

Everything about the girl was imprinted in his brain. If she had been the one on his lap, then this whole night would've been a different story. Maybe he would've been happier.

Or sadder, considering he couldn't do anything with his dick the way it was.

Suddenly he heard the taxi honking at him, distracting him from his thoughts.

"Johnny, lad," the taxi driver, whose name Johnny never seemed to be able to remember, called out happily. "How's it going?" To be fair, on the rare occasion their paths crossed, he'd always be drunk. "Your pal not with you tonight?"

Aka, Gibsie.

  "He's still inside," Johnny explained, doing his best not to stagger as he pushed off the wall. "Thanks for coming so fast, man."

"Like I'd leave you here, boyo," he chuckled. "Don't forget your old friend Paddy when you're up in the big smoke with the big boys."

"Johnny—wait up, lad!" Hughie called out as he stumbled out of the pub towards him.

Grabbing his arm, he pulled Johnny to a stop. "You'll have to take us with you."

"Who's us?" Johnny replied slowly. "If you're talking about that crazy fucking girl then forget it, Hughie. She's not my responsibility, and I'd rather cut my cock off than go back inside and deal with her."

"Who—Bella?" Hughie frowned, shaking his head. "No, man. Fuck her. She's already gone back to Cormac. He was hiding in the lounge all night. Didn't come out until you were gone, the coward." He dragged him over to the window and pointed inside. "You can't leave them here."

Johnny's gaze flickered from Hughie to Gibsie, who was face down on the table, to Feely, whose personal space was invaded by one of Bella's friends, to Bella, who was dry-humping Cormac Ryan, then back at Hughie.

  "Why me?" Johnny groaned.

  "Because we're your babies," Hughie replied, leaning his weight on him.

  "My babies?" Johnny slurred. "How the fuck are you three anyone's babies?"

  "You're our captain," Hughie slurred. "We're kind of your responsibility."

  "On the pitch, ya gobshite."

  "Come on, Cap, you're the one with the empty house. You know Feely's mother will lose her shit if he goes home in this condition, and my mam won't let us through the front. And Gibs—" he gestured a thumb to the window. "He's as good as your brother, lad."

  Unfortunately, he had a point.

  "You're a bunch of bleeding eejits, is what ye are," Johnny grumbled before relenting. "Fine." he ran a hand through my hair and sighed. "Get them. I'm going now."

  "You absolute legend, Kavanagh," Hughie praised, then he staggered back into the pub to get the lads.

"SO WHAT'S THE STORY with you and Bella?" Hughie asked.

They were sitting on the front porch of Johnny's house, ending the night with a bottle of Jameson. Sure, it may be a terrible idea to have whiskey, but it was very much needed after spending three hours babysitting Gibsie's drunk ass.

  The fucker projectile vomited all over the guest bedroom, and was currently being housed in the downstairs bathtub with half a dozen towels thrown over him. Thankfully, his stomach finally emptied, and he was snoring soundly.

  Hughie and Johnny were the only ones still awake, while Feely passed out on the couch in the living room the moment they got home.

  "There's no story, lad," Johnny said, rolling his half-empty glass between his hands.

  "I presume you've heard the rumor?" Hughie asked, tone cautious and slightly slurred.

  Johnny exhaled heavily. "Which one?"

  "About her and Cormac?"

  "Don't need to hear any rumors to know what's happening there, lad," Johnny grunted. "Saw it with my own eyes tonight."

  "No," Hughie said slowly. "The one where she went home with Cormac on St. Stephen's Night." Grimacing, he added, "And every weekend since."

  "No," Johnny deadpanned. "I didn't know."

  "I would've said something, but you were just out of the hospital," the blonde sighed heavily. "I didn't want her messing with your recovery."

  "Don't worry about it, lad." Swirling the whiskey around in his glass, Johnny stared down at the amber liquid and admitted the truth. "I already had my suspicions long before then."

  "Yeah?" He arched a brow. "Why didn't you say something?"

  "Because I wanted a quiet life?" Johnny offered weakly. "I'm a fucking eejit, lad."

  "Ryan's the eejit," Hughie corrected, his tone bitter. "Fucking over his teammate for a girl."

  Too drunk to feign impassiveness or mask his emotions, Johnny dropped his head and released a heavy sigh.

  "I made a mistake with that girl, Hugh." Johnny raises the glass to his lips, chugging back the remaining amber liquid before adding, "An eight-month long mistake."

  "At least you got out unscathed, Cap." Hughie reached between them, grabbing the half empty bottle of whiskey and refilled his glass. "Could have been a nine-month mistake," he added, holding the bottle out for Johnny. "With an eighteen to life price tag."

"You can say that again," Johnny muttered in agreement, taking the bottle. "Can you imagine what Dennehy and Ó Brien would have done to me if I rolled up to training with a baby?"

"Screw your coaches at The Academy," Hughie countered. "Imagine what your mother would have done to you."

"Shite, lad, it doesn't bear thinking about." Johnny placed the bottle back down, shaking his head. "Ugh."

  Several minutes passed by in comfortable silence before Hughie spoke again, "So...Nessa, huh?" he asked with a slight grin.

  "What about her?"

  "I don't know, maybe the way she defended you tonight?" Hughie laughed. "went all protective. If looks could kill, Bella would be dead."

  "We're friends, Biggs. That's all."

  "Okay, fine," Hughie mused, "I like her, you know? I mean, she's pretty tough. And yeah, she's a little messed up, but she has a good heart."

  "A little messed up? The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Johnny furrowed his brow, his tone growing more protective.

  "Never mind," Hughie shook his head, like regretted saying anything. "It's just nice she has someone in her corner—and Shannon's too. By the way, I'm glad you called out the team on the pitch incident and nipped in the bud," he spoke with a heavy sigh. "If you hadn't, I would've. Poor girl deserves a break."

  "How do you know so much about them?"

  "Shannon's been friends with my sister since they were small."

  "Claire," Johnny filled in.

Hughie nodded. "I also crossed paths with her brother—Nessa's twin—maybe two months ago. He's...interesting"

"What are you talking about?" Johnny asked, feeling a little frustrated he was so clueless.

"You never heard?"

Johnny shook his head. "Heard what?"

  "Not in my place." Hughie shook his head. "Oh, and Shannon was actually over at the house today. Lovely girl," he added, thoughtfully. "Horrible family."

  "What do you mean?"

Hughie shook his head but didn't reply.

That bothered Johnny for a whole lot of different reasons. He didn't like Hughie knowing things about the Lynches that he didn't.

"I'm going to go check on precious in the bath," Hughie announced as he finished his glass. "And then I'm putting my head down for the night."

"Take whatever room you want," Johnny mumbled, deep in thought.

Hughie placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I know she acts like she doesn't need it, but just keep looking out for the girl, Cap." he said, squeezing his shoulder. "God knows someone needs to."

And then he was gone.

LEXI NOTES !
watching smallville rn and tom welling is SO johnny kavanagh