falling for 13 || Johnny Kavanagh

Ridiculous

G R A C E

The streets of Ballylaggin were quiet, the only sounds coming from the occasional car passing by and the steady rhythm of my runners hitting the pavement. It was one of those weird in-between evenings where the air felt heavy, like it couldn't decide if it wanted to rain or not. I shifted my bag higher on my shoulder, cursing the weight of my spikes and water bottle.

The walk from my house to the athletics club wasn't far—fifteen, maybe twenty minutes if I took the long way—but it still felt like a trek sometimes, especially when I was already running late. Darren had spent the last ten minutes lecturing me about how I was coming home late from spending time with Johnny, and by the time I got out the door, I was raging.

Halfway down the main road, I caught the low hum of a car engine coming up behind me. It wasn't the usual hurried pace of someone rushing to get home or the slow crawl of someone lost. No, this was deliberate.

I glanced over my shoulder, narrowing my eyes as a familiar black Audi crept into view. The windows were rolled down, and sure enough, Johnny was in the driver's seat, one hand on the wheel and that grin plastered across his stupidly handsome face.

I stopped in my tracks, spinning around to face him. "You do realise," I called out, loud enough for him to hear, "if someone didn't know I knew you, they'd report you for stalking, you perv."

Johnny's grin widened, and he slowed to a complete stop, leaning one elbow on the edge of the window. "Stalking?" he repeated, feigning offense. "I'm just driving to training. You just happen to be in my way."

I folded my arms, raising a brow. "Uh-huh. And slowing down to a crawl when you see me is just a coincidence?"

"Exactly," he said, smirking. "Total coincidence."

I shook my head, trying to hide the smile tugging at my lips. "What do you want, Johnny?"

"Want?" he asked, leaning slightly further out the window. "I'm being nice and offering to give you a lift, save you from lugging that bag halfway across Ballylaggin."

I looked at him skeptically. "And where are you off to?" I pulled my phone out of my pocket, "At 6:53 on a Wednesday night?"

He smiled again, "Well, Gracie Lynch at 6:53 on a Wednesday I'm on my way to training."

I blinked, staring right at him. "Wait- training?"

"Yeah" he said casually, like it wasn't a big deal.

"At The Academy?" I asked, my voice jumping up an octave.

He nodded, glancing at me with a crooked smile. "Yep."

"You're back at The Academy?" I practically yelled, I'd never felt this happy for someone before.

"I'm so back" He nodded.

"Well you'll be late for training!" I replied. "Go, I'll walk or else you'll be killed by the coaches."

"Ah, they'll survive," Johnny said, shrugging. "Come on, Grace. It's a free lift."

I hesitated for half a second before rolling my eyes and walking toward the car. "Okay," I muttered, pulling the passenger door open.

Johnny laughed as I climbed in, the familiar scent of his cologne mixing with the faint smell of leather seats.

As we pulled onto the road, I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. "You do realise this is how true crime documentaries start, right?"

He grinned, keeping his eyes on the road. "Relax, baby. If I was going to kidnap you, I'd at least have food in the car."

I couldn't help it—I burst out laughing, shaking my head. "You're ridiculous."

"Ridiculously thoughtful," he shot back, winking at me before turning onto the road that led toward the athletics club. I couldn't stop smiling, though, my chest still buzzing with happiness for him. This was a big deal—he'd fought like hell to get back, and now he was finally where he belonged. Someday I would be cheering on the sidelines for him at Landsdowne road stadium.