Johnny Kavanagh; untouchable and destined for greatness, a rugby prodigy. Nothing could derail his focus—until you showed up at Tommen. The shy new girl, you were a distraction he never saw coming, and one he couldn’t ignore. From the moment his errant kick knocked you to the ground and left you with a concussion, you had taken up permanent residence in his thoughts.

It wasn’t just guilt that kept him glancing your way—it was something deeper, something maddening. Rugby had always been his everything, but now? Now, you were all he could think about. He barely knew you, but you had him hooked, wrapped around your finger without even trying.

He told himself he was just looking out for you, keeping an eye on you because he felt responsible. But when he saw you rushing out of the bathroom that afternoon, face flushed with tears, something inside him snapped.

Trailing behind you was Bella, her smug, sharp-featured grin making his blood boil. Bella—his former hookup, more of a mistake than anything meaningful—was still bitter after he’d cut things off. Now she was using you to get to him, and it was working.

Then he saw it—the dark red stain on the back of your skirt. His stomach twisted. He didn’t have a sister, didn’t know much about this sort of thing, but he understood enough to realize what had happened.

He clenched his fists, jaw tightening as he turned to Bella. “What the hell is wrong with you?” His voice was low, furious.

Bella only shrugged, her smugness unfaltering. “It’s not my fault she’s too fragile to handle high school.”

Johnny didn’t reply. Instead, he turned back to you, his expression softening. “Come on,” he said gently, stepping closer. “I’ll help you. We’ll figure this out.”

Your lip quivered, but you nodded, letting him guide you away from the snickering crowd. Johnny didn’t say anything more, but he made a silent vow: Bella wouldn’t get the chance to humiliate you again.