Chapter 14
FIREWORKS
RONAN
She kissed like a woman possessed.
Fuck me. How had I forgotten?
Answer: I hadn’t. In fact, I’d been fantasizing about Laney Fisher’s mouth for going on a week now, wondering if I’d ever get the chance to experience a Michelin-level make-out session ever again or if I was simply ruined for life.
I’d had a plan when I arrived at the wedding. I was going to woo her a little. Be the man she clearly needed on her arm when that fuckface of an ex was around.
And then I was going to ask her to do the same for me. Make her an offer she couldn’t refuse. I was no better than Brendan, about to offer the girl a contract to stay my wife just a little longer.
Then she kissed me, and I couldn’t have cared less about any contracts because I wanted this to be real more than I’d ever wanted anything in my life.
It made sense. We were at a celebration of love and all things primal, after all. Weddings seemed to bring out the sentimental, loving part of people’s personalities. When in Rome, right?
My actual heart was also in on the act, beating like I’d just finished an eight ball of coke. Not that bad, cheap shit, either. Laney was pure Peruvian, the good stuff.
And so, I kept kissing my wife, crowd and setting be damned.
Was this how Laney felt all the time when her ticker messed up?
Fuck.
I needed to stop.
She probably needed me to stop.
But I couldn’t.
Christ, her mouth. I was wrong. She was better than any high. This was ecstasy, pure and true and blissfully unfiltered by drugs or alcohol or any of the other vices I used to distract myself from the world.
I didn’t want to distract myself from anything right now. For the first time, I wanted to be present. I wanted to be here. I wanted to—
“Ronan.”
Her hands on my chest pushed me gently, but I just leaned in, trying to keep contact. She didn’t exactly stop the kiss, but her hands continued to push.
“Ronan, please.”
“What,” I mumbled against her lips. “No.”
“That’s enough. He’s gone.”
In that moment, I couldn’t have given two shits who “he” was or where he had gone.
He.
Oh, right. Derek.
It took every ounce of control I had to straighten fully and set Laney back on the ground. I hadn’t even realized I’d picked her up again. It was that easy to lose myself in her.
She stared up at me, lips swollen as the pink of her tongue slipped out. I lunged again, but her hand on my chest kept me at bay.
“Ronan, stop. I mean it.”
I backed off, though her deep breaths told me at least part of her preferred I didn’t. “You don’t like it?”
She shook her head. God bless the girl, she was a terrible liar. We really couldn’t have been more different.
“It’s—it’s not that. But we’re not together. We’re not married. Kissing or doing… whatever it is we were doing… it just makes things more confusing, you know?”
I frowned. “Look, I get it. But while we figure things out, can’t we have a little fun?”
I was a better liar than a politician. I wasn’t looking to have a little fun. I was lost, and I was willing to bet she was halfway there with me. Of course she was. That’s why, like an intelligent person, she wanted to stop.
“Jeez, get a room, you two,” a woman I recognized as one of the bridesmaids said.
Laney pulled away, blushing adorably. She grabbed my hand, holding it tightly as she laughed up at me. “Sorry, Maddy.”
“Oh my god, I’m kidding.” Maddy lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper that I wasn’t supposed to hear. “Honestly, I’m jealous. You two are so cute together. Go on, girl.”
They giggled together, and Laney smiled up at me. I was having a hard time breathing. She was so damn beautiful.
“A little fun?” she wondered.
I shrugged, because it was better than getting on my knees and begging. “If that’s what you want.”
She glanced across the party, which was still going strong. The bride and groom had long since made their departure, leaving their guests to the rest of the festivities.
“Let’s get out of here.” Her cheeks were still pink, but maybe with pleasure this time. Some anticipation.
I grinned back. “Where to?”
“One day, I’m going to need you to show me around your city when it’s light outside,” I said as Mac pulled to a stop on a quiet street in Ballard, right in front of a small, unassuming brick building with a wood-sided second story added to the top.
“You didn’t get out much today?” Laney asked as she opened her door and got out.
I shook my head, following her. “I had to work.”
I didn’t elaborate. After Mac and I had found a local gym to do some sparring, I’d spent the rest of the day cooped up in my hotel room, managing calls from Liam, Liza, Dad, and several other executives.
Most of my time, however, was spent talking to Brendan as he walked me through the actual realities of the job I was about to take on.
The board was voting next week on whether I would be approved as interim CEO. I needed to get back.
But not tonight.
Laney pulled out her keys and went to unlock the front door of the shop.
I turned to Mac. “You’re off for the rest of the night. I’ll find my way back to the hotel.”
He darted a suspicious glance at the shop, Laney, and then back to me.
“It’s fine,” I said. “Do you really see much of a security risk here?”
There, apparently, I had him.
He grunted and got back into the car. “I’ll be here at seven.”
“And I’ll probably be waking up at noon, so you have a nice morning.”
I turned to where Laney was waiting by the entrance to the store, but Mac called me back.
“Ronan.”
I turned. “What? I promise, my pockets are loaded with condoms, and I’m done drinking for the night. Whatever happens, it will all be above board.”
“I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about her.” He nodded over my shoulder. “She’s not like the others. She doesn’t deserve…”
I didn’t have to ask what he meant. Mac had accompanied me through plenty of dangerous situations, dragged me out of countless benders, and had escorted home too many nameless conquests to count.
I’d never been ashamed of that record before now. And maybe I still wasn’t.
Or maybe I was.
“I know,” I said. “That’s why I’m here.”
Our eyes met, and I somehow managed to maintain that eye contact while he silently searched me for something. The truth, maybe. Or worse, a lie.
Whatever he found there seemed to be enough.
“Tomorrow,” he repeated. “You’ll call when you need me.”
He left, and I followed Laney to where she had finished opening up the shop. She let us in, then locked the door behind us.
I looked curiously around the darkened space.
There were a few tables of folded scarfs, gloves, and other knit accessories, another with items made of leather.
The walls were lined with sparse racks of clothes made of similar natural materials.
I understood the goal of the place, even if it was a bit bare.
“It’s nice,” I said.
Laney looked around like she was seeing it for the first time. “It was my mom’s.”
She led me to the back and up a set of stairs to another door that she unlocked.
If the shop was all knitwear and whitewashed minimalism, Laney’s apartment read pure absentminded academic.
It was small, consisting of a living room, a dining area, and a kitchenette in one corner, plus a hallway that probably led to her bathroom and bedroom.
Every inch of wall space that didn’t have a window was occupied by bookshelves and eclectic art, with furniture that was obviously secondhand scattered around the space.
Laney slipped off her shoes and remained by the entrance while she watched me wander the apartment, pursuing her bookshelves, photographs of friends and family, and all the other little things that mark a person’s life.
“I didn’t see you downstairs,” I said as I fingered a small shrine that was set up in a corner next to rolled-up yoga mat and a sound bowl. “But I see you here.”
“Do you?” She edged closer, then picked up the sound bowl. “I got this on a retreat I did in Belize after I first got certified to teach.”
“Have you done a lot of retreats?”
She looked up, those sea-glass eyes full of light. And maybe a bit of sorrow. “A few, yeah. Before…”
She didn’t need to finish the sentence. Before her mother got sick. Before everything changed.
I slipped a hand around her waist, suddenly needing her close, then tipped her chin up so she was looking at me. Without her heels, she was at least a foot shorter than me. So small. But clearly, so strong, in body and mind.
“I see you, Ariadne,” I told her.
I bent down to kiss her, but before I could, she spoke again. “Why do you call me that?”
I straightened. “What?”
She slipped out of my grasp. “Ariadne. Why do you call me that?”
I frowned. “I thought you knew.”
I looked around until I found the bookshelf I’d spotted earlier that carried her Greek and Roman collection—all the famous works I’d read myself in Classics courses, plus many more that I hadn’t heard of. No surprise there. She was supposed to be a professor herself, wasn’t she?
I found the book I was looking for, then plucked it off and flipped to the section I was looking for.
“‘Bassarids, shake not your tambours, let there be no sound of pipes or feet. Let Cypris rest.’” I looked up. “Recognize that?”
Laney rolled her eyes as she leaned against one of the windows next to a large snake plant. “Are you really asking if I’m familiar with one of the most famous Greek myths of all time?”
“No, I’m asking if you remember what’s happening in this specific passage, Professor.” I cocked my head, waiting. I was toying with her, sure. Being more than a little condescending.
But like any good professor, Laney couldn’t help but jump in and lecture.
“Of course I do. That’s from Dionysiaca by Nonnus of Panopolis.
Not my favorite translation, but it will do.
It’s the moment when Dionysus discovers Ariadne asleep on the beach at Naxos after she’s been abandoned there by Theseus, her betrothed.
” She tipped her head. “I wasn’t asleep in the Naxos you found me in, Ronan. ”
“No, but I was,” I mumbled.
“What?”
“Nothing. If you remember, before this moment Dionysus was having a ball wreaking havoc on the Ilissos. Partying, creating mayhem, and all that. Typical chaos agent stuff.” I smirked. “I identified with this scene for reasons you’ve probably figured out by now.”
Laney didn’t seem entertained by the notion. Not that I blamed her. I’d all but admitted to living a life of abject hedonism before meeting her. And, well, she wasn’t wrong to be cautious.
“So, what, you called me Ariadne because we met at a nightclub called Naxos, you think of yourself like the god of partying, and we ended up getting married?” She shrugged. “I mean, I guess. But that cuts out the best parts of the story.”
“You mean the parts where he suddenly wants quiet when he sees her?” I returned.
“Or the next part, where he’s completely befuddled by this creature he comes upon, so much that he spends the next entire section of the book reciting the glossary of the Greek pantheon trying to figure out who she is, since there’s no way someone that incredible could be a mere human?
Or the part after that, when he spends hours trying to show her how amazing she really is, if only she could see herself through his eyes?
” I shook my head. “No, I’m not skipping those parts.
In fact, they all sound pretty familiar to me too. ”
By the time I was finished, Laney’s mouth had fallen open, and she was staring.
“At first, I thought you were just another girl.” I snapped the book shut and took a step forward.
“Someone out to party. Just like all the others. But even with the drinks, even with the chaos, the world quieted when I saw the stars in your eyes. I knew you weren’t just someone.
I knew you were mine. My Ariadne.” I picked up her left hand, where the gold band had returned. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
She studied me for a long time, then looked back at the book clutched in my other hand. “‘Only linger upon my eyes, that I may know the unreal passion of married love in a dream,’” she recited as her gaze flickered between the book and the ring on her finger. “I suppose I can’t.”
And then, to my surprised, she kissed me again.