Fighting 6 - Joey Lynch

Joey Lynch doesn't have time for Tommen girls.

Not when he's got four younger siblings hanging off him, a father who treats his face like a punching bag, and a dealer waiting for his money. His school uniform smells like smoke, his knuckles are always split, and he's got a short fuse and a long list of people he doesn't like. Life's a grind, home's a warzone, and feelings? Not on the menu.

Then she opens her mouth.

Preslee O'Connor.
Tommen royalty. Rich girl. Sharp-tongued, well-dressed, drunk off her arse and stumbling outside Biddie's bar like she owns the street. He should ignore her. He wants to. But then she talks. And she's smug. And rude. And annoying as f*ck. And now he's stuck with a walking headache in lip gloss and designer boots.

She thinks he's scum.
He thinks she's a spoiled brat.
They're both right.

They fight like it's foreplay.
They argue like it's oxygen.
And somewhere between the insults, the eye rolls, and the 'accidental' run-ins, something starts to shift. Something dangerous. Something real.

But this isn't some sweet, enemies-to-lovers, kiss-in-the-rain bullshit.

This is secret glances in crowded hallways.
Swearing across pub carparks.
Biting, bleeding, pretending you don't care when you do.
It's everything messy, unspoken, and off-limits.

Because Joey Lynch doesn't get good things.
And Preslee O'Connor was never supposed to look his way.

Too bad neither of them knows how to quit.