SKYFALL, Johnny Kavanagh

Brotherly suggestions

Maeve's Point of View

Coming home to an empty house was the best thing that had happened to me all week.
No forced conversations, no pretending everything was fine.
Just me and the quiet.

I dropped my bag by the couch and let out a breath, only to immediately curse under it.

I'd forgotten to give Gibsie his gift.

Or maybe I hadn't forgotten so much as avoided it.
Call it self-preservation – I wasn't in the mood to deal with his pitying looks over the sad excuse for a present.

Instead of dwelling on it, I pulled out my phone and shot Johnny a text.

Me: Made it home. You can stop stressing now.

His reply came almost instantly.

Johnny: Did you die on the way?

I rolled my eyes.

Me: Clearly not, if I'm texting you.

Johnny: You could be a ghost. Prove it.

Me: What, you want me to send a selfie with today's newspaper?

Johnny: Wouldn't hurt.

I huffed a laugh but didn't respond immediately, instead toeing off my shoes and heading into the kitchen. My fingers hovered over the fridge handle before I sighed and pulled it open, scanning for something edible.

The options were pitiful.

A half-empty carton of milk, some questionable-looking leftover pasta, and a few beers.

Yeah, no. I wasn't feeling like testing my immune system today.

Shutting the fridge, I grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and took a sip just as my phone vibrated again.

Johnny: Don't ignore me, Sunshine.

Me: Or what?

Johnny: Or I'll drive over there and bang on the door until you answer.

I paused, glass halfway to my lips.

He wouldn't.

Would he?

Me: You're bluffing.

Johnny: Try me.

I groaned, typing back.

Me: Fine. I'm home, alive, and drinking water. Happy now?

Johnny: Ecstatic. Now send that selfie.

Me: Not happening.

Johnny: Coward.

Me: Go bother Gibsie.

Johnny: Can't. He's singing in the shower.

Me: Lucky you.

Johnny: Don't sound too jealous, Sunshine.

I snorted, shaking my head.

Me: I'll try to contain myself.

I put down my cell and exhaled, pressing the cool glass against my forehead.
I shouldn't be doing this.

Letting Johnny into my space, my life, my head.
It was dangerous.
Stupid.
I had enough on my plate without adding reckless boys who didn't know how to mind their own business.