Ronan
ronan
I barely tapped my knuckles against Willow’s door before it opened. Her hair was wild, and she looked slightly sweaty. I tilted my head to the side, taking in her disheveled appearance.
“You okay?” I glanced around her house, noting it was a lot neater than it had been the last time I saw it.
“Yeah, just cleaning up.” She threw her thumb over her shoulder. I nearly laughed, and I couldn’t keep my grin contained. “No more fire hazards.” I pointed at the white string thing on her wall, and she rolled her eyes. Folding her arms over her chest, she popped her hip to the side. “If you try to take my macrame from me, Caldwell, I will chop your hands off.”
My brows rose. “Threatening the sheriff, shortcake?”
“It’s not a threat,” she smiled. “It’s a warning. Sheriff. ”
Goosebumps rippled over my arms at the way she said sheriff. It shouldn’t have any effect on me, yet it did. But, if I were being totally honest, everything she did had an effect on me.
She was wearing a flowy, rust-colored dress today that fit tightly over her breasts. I tried not to focus on them, but it was impossible. The swell and dip of them, the way the fabric strained across the generous swells. My fingers itched to graze along her smooth skin. My palms ached to cup them, to gently squeeze them.
Roughly, I cleared my throat as I shoved those thoughts to the back of my mind. “Fertilizer?” I blurted, and she blinked.
She gestured behind me as she grabbed her keys from a little bowl sitting on the table by the door. “It’s in my car,” she said. I stepped to the side, letting her go first. Her ass swayed in the sundress, and I was helpless to do anything but watch as she walked down the few creaky steps to the ground. She glanced over her shoulder at me and smiled. “You coming?”
I trailed behind her, the leaves and twigs crunching underfoot. The sun was setting, and a slight chill filled the air. We stopped at her car, and she yanked the door open, the hinges squeaking.
“Sorry about that,” she muttered, pink tinging her cheeks. I crouched to get a better look at it.
“A little oil and it’ll stop making that sound,” I said. “I have some in my truck.” I rounded her car to my truck. The toolbox mounted in the back was unlocked, and I rummaged around, finding the spray can of oil. When I turned, she was just staring at me. “What?”
“You’re fixing it?” she asked, and I tilted my head to the side.
“Yes…?” Did she not want me to fix it? She blinked a few times as she took a deep breath. “Is that alright?”
A humorless laugh left her. “Of course it’s alright. No one has ever—” She waved dismissively, cutting herself off. “It doesn’t matter. Thank you.”
It took me only a few minutes to grease the hinges, put the oil back in my toolbox, and grab the sack of fertilizer from her back seat. She was quiet as she walked by my side, her eyes on the ground.
“Where do you want this?” I asked, following her to her door.
“In the backyard, please.” Her voice was distant. I didn’t know how to fix this, how to make her feel better. I tapped my fingers against the plastic bag as I trudged through her house. When we walked outside, I paused.
Our spaces were identical, mirrored layouts, but they couldn’t be more different. Her place was lived in, warm, homey. Mine was cold and sterile. But her backyard was like a sanctuary. I’d never seen anything like it before.
Plants overflowed on her back deck. They lined the three steps down into the yard, where there were a few chairs in a circle in the middle. A couple oversized chairs sat against the back wall, but the fence we shared overflowed with plants.
Vines crawled up the wood, the leaves vibrant green and flowers oversaturated. Fairy lights were strung up around the yard, and I could clearly picture how they would twinkle in the night.
I dropped the bag where Willow indicated, and I stepped down into her yard to get a closer look at everything. She stayed on the deck, her gaze tracking me as I took it all in.
“Your place is…” I scrubbed my hand over my mouth.
“I know they’re all dying,” she blurted. “And I’m sorry it’s always such a mess. I try to be quiet—so I don’t disturb you—when I’m talking to them, but I can’t not do it, you know? I read online that talking to them helps them grow.”
I turned toward her, finding her twisting her hands tightly together in front of her. “You talk to them?” Was that who she was talking to the other night? Was that who she was always talking to?
She shrugged. “I think it’s working,” she muttered.
“I think so, too.”
Truthfully, I hadn’t realized any of the plants were even dying. The ones on the front porch definitely were, but I knew those were the babies. They were struggling, so she kept them in the front where they’d get the most sunlight. I only knew any of that because she’d told me one day when she was setting up her little nursery.
I continued walking around the perimeter of the yard, stopping at the gate. It was latched shut, but it didn’t look secure. “I’ll get a new lock for this,” I said, tapping on the door.
“You don’t have to?—”
“Knowing you’re safe will help me sleep better.”
Her mouth clamped shut. Shit. Was I doing too much? Probably. But I was serious. Knowing this gate wasn’t as secure as I needed it to be would only make me spiral, but I didn’t have anything I needed to fix it, so I’d have to do it another day.
I made my way back across the yard and up the steps, stopping just a few feet from her. She lifted her eyes to mine, a soft smile on her pretty face.
“Thanks, ,” she whispered. I tapped my middle finger against my thumb to keep from reaching for her.
“No problem, shortcake.”
Silence stretched between us as I searched for something to say, some way to prolong this visit. But what else was there? She asked for a favor, and I did it. Staying longer than she wanted was weird and would only make her uncomfortable.
I ran my fingers through my hair. “I guess I’ll just head home,” I said, jerking my chin toward my half of the house.
“I’d invite you to stay for dinner, but I need to get groceries.” She laughed. “All I have is instant ramen.”
I didn’t want to tell her that sounded a hell of a lot better than whatever the fuck I had waiting for me in the freezer. Instant ramen would be the only home-cooked meal I’d had in…a long time.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” I smiled gently, my fingers tapping faster. I wanted to reach for her, touch her. “Rain check.”
After an awkward goodbye, I found myself standing in the middle of my living room. My house felt so cold and lonely without her warmth. All I wanted was to call my dad and ask him what the fuck I should do.
But I couldn’t.
So, I called the second-best person I could.
The line rang and rang. So many times, I was worried he wasn’t going to answer. But then loud music and voices filtered in, and I rolled my eyes.
“Hey, everything okay?” Theo asked, shouting over the background noise. “Trinity alright?”
“Yeah. She’s fine.” I paced back and forth, my stomach twisting. “I don’t know why I called you.” It was stupid. I’d hit his name before I could fully think about it.
“What’s going on?” The noise slowly disappeared, like Theo was finding a quiet place to talk. “You okay?”
“You’re busy.” I sighed. “Forget I?—”
“Come on, man. I’m already on the phone.” He huffed out a breath. “I was about to seal the deal with a girl, too. So this better be good.”
“I’m fake dating my neighbor, but I’m realizing that I might actually like her, and it’s a disaster because her journal said she doesn’t trust men. And I’m a man, so how could she possibly ever trust me?”
All the words came out in one breath, blending into one.
Theo was silent for a long moment. “Okay, back up,” he finally said. “Start at the beginning. What do you mean you’re fake dating her? Does she know about this?”
“She’s the one who asked me.” I sank into my chair and rested my forehead on my palm. I told him everything, and he silently listened. When I was done, I waited for him to berate me, to tell me I was being an idiot for playing this game with her.
But he just huffed out a laugh. “I owe Trin fifty bucks,” he muttered.
“What?”
“She said you’re dating Willow, but I said there was no way. Seems she was right.”
“Well, it’s not real,” I countered, my voice a low, displeased grumble, and he laughed again.
“Ro, everything you just told me screams you like this girl,” he said, sounding amused. I tapped my heel against the floor.
“So, what do I do?” I asked softly, like I was scared she could hear me through the wall.
“Tell her you want to be with her,” he said simply.
“She doesn’t trust men.”
“She doesn’t have to trust all men; she just has to trust you .”
He made it sound so fucking easy. And for him, it likely was. But for the rest of the male population, making a girl trust us, making one want to be with us, was damn near impossible. For Theo, he flashed them his sparkling white smile, batted his baby blues, and got anything and anyone he wanted.
That never worked for me. And I knew it wouldn’t work on Willow.
“Take her on a romantic date,” he suggested, and I shook my head.
“I can’t push her too hard, too fast.”
“Then take her on a non-romantic date.”
“Why did I fucking call you?” I grumbled. “You’re the worst.”
His laugh was deep and happy, and a smile tugged at my mouth. I never realized how much I missed my older brother until moments like this. “You love me.”
“That’s questionable.”
He laughed again and trailed off, clearing his throat. “You have her journal?”
“Yeah. She gave it to me so I could read all the lies?—”
“This poor fucking girl, dude,” he said quietly. “Can you imagine feeling like the only way to gain any amount of approval from your family is to lie to them? To pretend like you’re dating some random guy you barely know, just so they’ll hopefully treat you a little better?”
“I don’t think anyone is treating her better for having a boyfriend.” I sighed. “I feel fucking terrible, but I don’t know how to fix it.”
And that was the crux of it all: I couldn’t fix it. This was a messy, twisted dynamic between Willow and her father that went back decades. It wasn’t something I could swoop in and repair. I couldn’t protect her from her feelings or her trauma. I had to stand by and let her endure it. I could help her wade through the muck, but that was all I could do.
I couldn’t take it away. I couldn’t do anything.
I was helpless, and that put me on edge.
“Did she write about any dates you went on?” Theo asked. I got to my feet and strode through my small house to my bedroom. Sinking onto the edge of my bed, I put my phone on speaker and grabbed the notebook. I flipped it open and scanned each entry.
“There are a few specific ones,” I said, trailing my finger over the scribbled words. “She was oddly detailed, down to the type of flowers I bought her.”
“So…recreate them.”
I stared at the loopy writing, letting Theo’s words sink in. “Recreate them?” I repeated.
“She’s basically given you a playbook of what she wants,” he said. “Give her everything she’s written about. She wants special flowers? Give her special flowers. She wants a steak dinner? Make her a steak dinner. She wants?—”
“I get it,” I muttered. I was quiet for a few breaths, just letting the idea roll around in my head. “You really think that’ll work?”
“She’ll fall in love with you,” he said seriously, his words sending a jolt of electricity through my body.
Love was a big word—the biggest four-letter word in the universe. Did I want that? Love? Did I want to be with her forever? Because if I did this, if she fell for me, I couldn’t break her heart. I couldn’t give her everything, only to rip it away.
I had to be sure.
I drummed my fingers against the paper. Faint music floated through the wall, and I could almost see Willow dancing around her house, floating from room to room with her dress flowing around her legs. My eyes drifted shut, the fantasy playing out in my head as if it were happening right before me.
A smile would be on her face, and her hair would be twisted into a messy bun. I’d walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, holding her close to my chest. She would press her ass against me, and we’d dance together, the only light in the room from the open fridge.
I could feel the warmth of her body, smell the sweetness lingering in her hair from a day of baking. Her laugh would tinkle through the air as I pressed my lips against the curve of her neck, kissing her soft skin.
My cock hardened in my jeans, and I dragged my palms over my thighs. I could do it—I could fall in love with her. It would be so fucking easy to do; maybe the easiest thing I’d ever done.
“Ro?”
My eyes flew open, and my heart hammered against my chest. I scrambled to grab my phone, turning it off speaker and pressing it to my ear with a shaky hand.
“Yeah. Yes. Sorry,” I said, my voice raspy. “I—I’m going to do it. Yeah. Thanks, Theo. I’ll talk to you later.”
“You good?” He laughed, but I ignored him as I hung up and tossed my phone to the bed beside me. I fell back, the air rushing out of my lungs as I stared up at the ceiling.
My cock was still hard, and I swore I could still smell her cinnamony, vanilla scent. I let my eyes close again, and I sank back into that safe fantasy world with her.
Images flashed through my mind—Willow on her back, her legs spread, her full breasts bared for me. Her rosy nipples erect as I pinched them between my teeth, her moans soft and breathy.
She’d be hot and wet as I sank into her, and the sounds she would make would be somewhere between a gasp and a whimper.
My hand drifted down my body, and I easily undid my belt and jeans. I tugged them open enough to pull my aching cock out, the tip already leaking with precum. The liquid spread across my bulbous tip as I swiped my thumb over it, teasing myself.
Willow’s face flashed behind my eyes, and I wrapped my hand around my hot length. Slowly, I dragged up, squeezing and twisting. A moan pushed up my throat, and a fine sheen of sweat broke out along my forehead.
“ Fuck ,” I groaned, my voice too loud in the room.
I worked myself faster, my thighs trembling with the pleasure of it all. Reaching over, I blindly grabbed my pillow and pressed it over my face. My teeth sank into the soft fabric as I fucked my hand harder, imagining I was slamming into her tight pussy, letting it swallow me whole.
How would she say my name? Breathy and quiet like a prayer? Or would she scream it for the whole world to hear? Would she want me to mark her with my bite, or paint her stomach white with my cum?
The pillow muffled my grunts as I barreled closer to my release. My lower stomach tightened, and my spine tingled. It was right there— she was right there.
My hips lifted in time with my hand, thrusting hard and fast. Unrelenting. With each stroke of my hand, a new image flashed through my mind of Willow. The last thing I saw was her head thrown back in ecstasy, her mouth open and eyes closed as she came.
Hot ropes of cum shot from me, soaking into my jeans. My fingers dug into the pillow as I pressed it harder against my face, forcing myself to be quiet.
I panted, trying to catch my breath. Reality settled around me, and I pulled the pillow away. Everything was too bright, too silent, but the fantasy still burned brightly in my head.
That life was at my fingertips; all I had to do was push my fear aside and go for it.
I didn’t know when it happened, but my feelings for her I’d always hidden had come out in full force, and there was no shoving them back again. Willow could be my everything. I could be her everything.
And that thought didn’t entirely terrify me the way I thought it should have.