Needing 13 - Johnny Kavanagh

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW

TARA

I slept in his bed, not just because he insisted I stay, but also because I was exhausted—tired of fighting the feelings he stirred up just by being near me. The bed was warm, comforting even, and for once, I let myself give in to the pull of those feelings rather than pushing them away.

We spent hours talking, his voice low and soothing as he spoke about how he'd read Pride and Prejudice and had just started The Great Gatsby. I couldn't help but tease him for finally picking up a classic, and he grinned in that easy, disarming way of his. He also mentioned that he'd started listening to Queen, all thanks to a friend of his—Freddie. Well, his actual name was Feely, but I'd taken to calling him Freddie. I mean, how could I not? A lad who loved Queen and had a name like Feely? The nickname was practically begging to be used.

I'd spotted the signs a few times when we'd gone to the music store—Queen albums tucked under his arm, humming "Bohemian Rhapsody" when he thought no one was listening. Katie had mentioned that Freddie played rugby, and honestly, what did everyone see in that sport? In my humble opinion, Freddie would get far more attention from the girls if he sacked off rugby and devoted himself to being a rockstar. After all, Freddie Mercury had studied Art and Graphic Design at university, and when he realized it wasn't his thing, he jacked it in and became one of the greatest vocalists in history. Rockstar Freddie Feely could do the same. I'd go to his gigs if he did. Katie swore the lad had a good set of pipes on him, and I was curious to hear it for myself.

Our conversation drifted to The Beatles at one point. They'd been my great-great-grandfather's favorite band, and with the one-year anniversary of his passing approaching, I was feeling a bit nostalgic. Katie was too, especially since Granda Joe had left her his Beatles collection. I didn't want it—he'd always known I preferred Abba—and besides, my best friend had been like another great-great-granddaughter to him. She was over the moon when she got those records, and I couldn't help but feel a bit of warmth in my chest, knowing she had something so special of his.

Jonathan eventually drifted off to sleep in the early hours of the morning, his arm loosely draped over me, but sleep wouldn't come for me. Too many thoughts were racing through my head. Gregory had texted me first, telling me he'd managed to get into the water without having a panic attack and had even splashed around with Claire. I'd smiled at that, proud of him. Then he sent another message asking if I was all right, and I'd replied that I was, that I was safe at his best friend's house.

Meanwhile, Malachy, Ciaran, Conrad, and Darragh were off doing damage control. I knew that if certain people found out what had happened on the beach between Jonathan and me, it wouldn't end well—for either of us. Especially if my da found out. I had nothing left to risk, but Jonathan? He had everything on the line.

"What are ya thinking about?" Jonathan's voice, rough and thick with sleep, stirred me from my thoughts. "It's too early in the morning for that pretty little head of yours to be working so hard."

"This pretty little head belongs to the top student of the entire sixth year, Jonathan," I teased, laughing softly as his head pressed into my stomach. His hair was a tangled mess, sticking out in every direction, and he let out a gruff groan that was more adorable than anything else. "What are ya whining about now?"

"I don't want to go anywhere. We could both skip class together and do something, just the two of us. What do you say?"

I hesitated, giving him a playful look as he stared at me with hopeful eyes. "I dunno," I said, pretending to consider his offer.

"Come on," he whined, his lips already tracing a delicate path along my stomach. "Please." Each kiss sent a shiver down my spine, making goosebumps prickle on my skin. "Baby, come on, we'll have fun."