Growing up in the Lynch household was never easy. Anger lived in the walls, fear clung to every quiet moment, and silence was never safe. Food was a luxury. Money barely stretched from week to week. Voices were always loud—too loud.

Joey worked himself into the ground just to keep the lights on. Even when Mam worked two jobs, it never mattered. Dad took whatever came in and pissed it straight up the wall with drink.

The only real escape—your only saving grace—was Gerard.

A blond, lovable rugby lad who turned your world completely on its head.

You never thought someone like him would look twice at you. Not with your family. Not with your life. But Gerard had a way of proving people wrong.

Shannon, your younger sister, had been moved to Tommen and thrown straight into Gerard’s world—his team, his friends, his chaos.

You already knew most of the lads anyway. You worked at Biddies, where the rugby team drank after matches, loud and bruised and full of themselves. Gerard had always stood out. Always flirting. Always smiling like he knew something you didn’t.

You usually laughed it off.

Sometimes… you flirted back.

Tonight, you were out driving with Joey and Aoife when Aoife suddenly pointed through the windshield.

“Is that—Jesus Christ, is that Johnny?”

Johnny was slumped against the chipper, chips spilling down his hoodie, very clearly drunk.

“For fuck’s sake,” Joey muttered, already pulling over.

They wrangled Johnny into the back seat, all limbs and complaints, when suddenly—

Slam.

Joey hit the brakes hard.

“What the fuck—?”

You looked up.

Gerard was sprawled across the hood of the car.

Your heart dropped straight into your stomach.

Oh Jesus.

Gerard was about to meet Joey. Joey was about to meet Gerard.

“What the fuck?” Joey barked, leaning out the window. “Get off my car, asshole!”

“You’re stealing my centre!” Gerard shouted, slapping the hood. “Give him back!”

Then he leaned over, peering into the back seat.

“Oh—there you are,” he grinned. “Hey, cap. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“And this clown is?” Joey asked, jerking a thumb toward Gerard.

“He’s my flanker, Gibs,” Johnny slurred. “What the fuck are you doing, lad? You were meant to be home with Hughie.”

“The guards pulled him,” Gerard said, hopping down. “Tax and insurance.”

“He’s above board,” Johnny argued.

“He looked at me funny, Johnny!” Gerard protested. “Big fuck-off torch right in my eyes. I panicked. Jumped out of the car. Been running around town ever since. Tried ringing you but you kept hanging up.”

Johnny squinted. “You’re King Clit?”

“Oh yeah,” Gerard laughed. “Forgot about that.”

“What’s Hughie saved as?” Johnny asked.

“Ginger Pubes.”

Johnny frowned. “He’s blond.”

“His girlfriend isn’t,” Gerard shot back, grinning.

You snorted before you could stop yourself.

Joey sighed, exhausted. “So what do you want me to do with him?”

“I should probably take him back to my place,” Johnny said. “Or a secure hospital.”

Aoife climbed out and shoved the seat forward just as Gerard launched himself into the back.

“Fuck—shit!”

Johnny groaned as Gerard landed hard.

“Did I get your dick?” Gerard asked, genuinely concerned. “I’ll get ice for your balls when we’re home.”

“I hope there aren’t any more of you,” Joey muttered. “The car’s already fucked in the back.”

“Sorry,” Johnny mumbled.

“It’s his fault,” Gerard said, pointing. “Fat bastard. Your dick okay, man? I really hope I didn’t squash your balls.”

“Go fuck yourself, Gerard.”

“Wow. Language,” Gerard laughed. “There’s someone in the front.”

“And one next to you,” Johnny said.

Gerard turned.

His grin slowed. His pupils darkened as his eyes scanned your face, recognition snapping into place.

“Oh,” he breathed, smile widening. “Johnny.”

He smacked Johnny’s arm. “I’m still in love.”

“Like fuck you are,” Joey snapped from the front seat. “Eyes off my sibling. What do you mean, still?”