Chapter 8 Thursday, December 22nd
Ronan
“Randi. Dude, you really have to wake up now.” I sit on the edge of Miranda’s bed, nudging her shoulder.
She grunts, face buried in her pillow, body wrapped like a burrito in the thick blanket.
I’ve been trying to wake her for the last thirty minutes.
Once before my shower, again after brushing my teeth, and one more time while getting dressed.
It’s three-thirty in the morning and she seriously needs to get her ass up so we can grab our things, check out of the hotel, and get her to the airport in time for her flight to Missoula.
“Fine. You leave me no other choice.”
I flip on every light in the room, then yank the blanket off her.
“Nooo, Rony!” she whines, curling herself into a ball, trying to shield her tiny body from the cool air suddenly assaulting her skin.
“Get up, Randi!”
“Ten more minutes,” she rasps, reaching for her blanket. I keep it out of reach, standing at the foot of the bed like a sentry.
“We don’t have another ten minutes. Come on. Up!”
She rolls over and climbs out of bed, her light brown hair a freaking mess.
I chuckle. “There you go.”
She flips me off. “You’re way too damn energetic for this time of… what is it? Night? Morning?” she grumbles as she shuffles into the bathroom where she grabs her toothbrush. “How are you so fucking chipper?”
“Well you know, just happy to be alive, see another sunrise or some shit like that.”
“Ah, yes, all the positive affirmations.” She starts brushing her teeth while I throw my stuff into my backpack. “Do you think I have time for a quick shower?” Miranda calls to me from the bathroom.
I check the watch on my wrist. “Yeah, if you make it a really fast one.”
“Great,” she says and turns on the shower faucet.
“Woah, woah, before you get all naked and shit, please grab your clothes so you don’t flash me again.”
She pokes her head out and rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. Stop acting like you didn’t like it.” But she still grabs fresh clothes and disappears again, hips swaying provocatively.
I shake my head. She hasn’t said a word about what happened between us in Montana.
Not once. Still, it’s the elephant in the room.
She’s been flirty, suggestive even. But Miranda’s always been like that.
I can’t tell if she’s testing me or if this is just Miranda being Miranda.
All I know is I need to stay out of my own head and pray she doesn’t pull anything again.
Last time was too damn close, and she knew how much Cat meant to me. Means to me.
By 3:55, Miranda’s dressed, hair damp, eyes still half-lidded. We check out of the hotel and hit the road. Traffic is practically nonexistent this early. We’re at the airport fifteen minutes later.
She gets herself checked in and I walk with her all the way to the security checkpoint where we have to part ways.
Miranda turns to me, then slings her arms around my neck and pulls me in for a tight hug.
I wrap my arms around her tiny waist, hugging her back.
She smells like wildflowers and hotel shampoo.
“Thank you, Rony. For everything,” she sighs against me. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
“You’re welcome, Randi. Just let me know when you get to the ranch, okay?”
“I will.” She steps back, stands on her tiptoes, and kisses my cheek softly. “I’ll see you around, Rony.”
“Yeah. See you.”
She hikes her new backpack onto her shoulder and walks toward the TSA line.
I turn to leave, already itching to be home, even if the thirteen-hour drive is going to suck.
“Hey, Rony,” she calls. I pause and look back. Her expression is serious now, open in a way I’m not used to seeing.
“I’m sorry,” she says quickly. “For leaving you like that. And for what I did before I left Montana. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say, because I don’t know what else to say.
She nods, gives me a soft smile, then disappears into the line.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and send a quick text message to Cat.
Me:
Getting on the road. I love you.
God, I can’t wait to pull her into my arms.
Cat
“It honestly never occurred to me that you don’t have a key,” Tori says unlocking the front door to Ronan and Shane’s apartment. She pushes the door open, and I step into the narrow hallway behind her.
I nod with some dismay. “Yeah, I guess I’ve never needed it before tonight because I’m usually either here with Ran or you.”
It’s just past six. Twenty minutes ago, Ronan sent me the shortest of texts—just his ETA: six-thirty.
I made my way to his apartment, intent on meeting him there, only to realize I couldn’t get in.
With Shane working Ronan’s shift tonight, my only hope to get in was Tori, who luckily, had only just left and was kind enough to swing back.
Tori cocks her head to the side, her long dark hair following the motion. “You should ask Ran for a key. Shane gave me one the day he moved in. I don’t see why Ran wouldn’t give you one.”
I’ve thought about that, too. About the fact that Shane made sure Tori had a key right away, and about how Ronan moved into the apartment months ago and hasn’t even hinted at wanting me to have a key.
And yes, I’ve thought about asking him, but a very real, very stubborn, and probably irrational part of me doesn’t want to have to ask him.
“I kind of want it to be Ran’s idea,” I say, kicking off my shoes. “I don’t want to bring it up if he hasn’t thought to.”
Tori raises an eyebrow. “This sounds oddly familiar.”
“How so?”
“Oh, you know, like how you didn’t want to tell Ran you were in love with him until he told you first. And then you almost didn’t get to tell him at all,” she says with a sassy twist.
I expel a weird snorty huff at her.
“Cat, if you haven’t noticed, guys aren’t super perceptive. You’re not doing either of you any favors by staying quiet.”
My brow furrows. If anyone’s staying quiet, it’s Ronan.
“Just ask him for a freaking key when he’s home.”
“You don’t think he wants to talk to Shane about this first?” I ask. “I mean, it’s not just Ran’s place. And what if Ran doesn’t want me to have free roam of the apartment? If I asked him for a key and he gave it to me, I’d just feel like I’m pressuring him into something he doesn’t actually want.”
“You’re making excuses,” Tori says, waving me off. “Shane won’t care. As far as he’s concerned, four of us live in this apartment. And do you really think Ronan is worried about you having the run of the apartment when he’s not here?” She giggles as if the mere thought is absurd.
But I’m not so sure. Lately I’ve been riddled with questions, with doubts that have only compounded. Ronan’s still holding back. Even after everything, even after a year and a half together, there are parts of him I’ve never touched. Parts he won’t let me near.
“Alright, I can tell I’m not convincing you, so I’ll head back out. I’m meeting my dad for tapas. But seriously, Cat, it’s okay to ruffle feathers sometimes. You won’t know the outcome until you do. So please, ask Ran for a key.”
Then she’s gone, and I’m left alone in the stillness of the apartment. Everything’s quiet.
Too quiet.
***
I’m on the sofa, trying to think of the best order in which to broach what I consider to be the uncomfortable subjects with Ronan once he’s back. Should I ask about the key first and then Rashana? Or the other way around? Or just pick one and save the other for another day?
When I hear Ronan’s key in the lock, I get up and meet him in the hallway as he walks in.
His face illuminates with a beautiful smile the moment his eyes find me.
He drops his backpack to the floor, then pulls me into his arms. His body is firm but warm, and I bury my face in his jacket, inhaling his clean, familiar scent.
Ronan smells like home, like comfort, like love. God, I never want to lose that.
He mimics me, his face in my hair, taking a deep inhale before he exhales with a soft, sated groan. “Hey baby.”
“Hi sweet boy,” I say without moving my head from his shoulder.
This right here—Ronan’s arms wrapped tightly around me, the feel of his body, his scent, his warmth—is exactly what I needed.
It doesn’t matter that he was only gone for two days.
It may as well have been two years; the ache was the same.
I’m convinced it was his sudden departure that caused my insecurities to rattle around my brain these past couple of days, because it all suddenly feels so much less significant.
Miranda, Rashana, stupid keys. Who cares. He’s here. He's mine. He loves me.
“How was your drive?” I ask, taking a small step back without breaking physical contact. I just want to be able to look into his face. That smile on his soft, full lips hasn’t vanished, and his beautiful green eyes are bright and happy.
“Long as hell. I tried to stop as little as possible. I wanted to come home to you.” He tugs me close to him again, unwilling to allow even the smallest bit of space between our bodies.
His words make my heart flutter. “I feel gross, though.” He shifts slightly as though suddenly feeling uncomfortable in his own skin.
I grin. “How about you take a quick shower,” I purr, “and then we can pretend to watch something while I climb on top of you?”
A low groan emanates from Ronan’s chest. “I like the sound of that, but I’d like it even more if you suggested we take a quick shower.”
I giggle. “Smooth. Real smooth, sweet boy.”
“All I heard was ‘yes.’ Unless you actually mean ‘no,’ then of course I’ll respect that,” Ronan says and releases me from his hold. He takes his backpack, then motions for me to lead the way into his bedroom.
I take a seat on his bed and open my food delivery app while Ronan pulls some clothes out of his backpack and deposits them in his hamper. “What are you feeling?” I ask him, scouring the restaurant options.
Ronan hangs his jacket on a hanger in his cramped closet. “How about Thai?”