Chloe Walsh

You are friends with me because you love me," he purred. "Because I'm the only one that makes your cheeks turn pink–" he paused and stroked her cheek with his finger, "in more ways than one."

we mature with damage, not with age.

"When did you do this to yourself?" I demanded, outraged.

"During the Easter holidays," he replied. "I told you I was bored."

I balked. "So you went out and got your dick pierced?"

"I meant it when I said I needed you for keeps."

"Well, I don't want easy, I want you," he cut me off by saying. "Just the way you are."

My breath hitched in my throat. "Really?"

"Really," he confirmed, not missing a beat. "Every part and every piece."

I grimaced. "Even the broken parts?"

He winked. "Especially the broken parts."

"You teach people how to treat you by setting boundaries, lad. If you let someone walk all over you, they're going to think it's okay."

"For keeps?" I breathed.

He kissed my shoulder. "For keeps."

"There was a fire at the Lynch house."

"But don't forget that you'll always be my 13." She sniffled and wiped my cheek with her fingers. "My binding 13."

I choked out a pained laugh, thinking about that stupid bet. "You heard about that?"

"Yeah." Half-sobbing/ half-laughing, Shannon smiled and nodded. "I won."

"Hands down." I kissed her puffy lips. "Undisputed."

"Now, I'm keeping 13," she told me. "So come home to me when you're done, okay?"

"I will."

That was all it took for Mam to morph into Floyd bleeding Mayweather.