Willow
willow
I dropped my head in my hands and groaned, listening as Gracie did the same. My head throbbed in time with my heart, and the usually pleasant scents of the bakery were nauseating.
“We’re never drinking again,” she mumbled.
“We say that every time,” I said, and she made a sound like a dying animal. We’d survived the morning rush, and now had some downtime before the afternoon crowd came.
The lights were too bright, smells too intense, sounds too loud. A migraine teased behind my eyes, and I knew it would be pounding in full force before the day was over. It was my fault for drinking twice in the matter of a week, but I hadn’t had a migraine in months, so I figured they were a thing of the past.
Apparently not.
I massaged my temples in tight, circular motions before moving onto massaging my eyes.
“I’d sell my soul to be in bed right now,” I grumbled.
“I’d walk over hot coals just to get rid of this hangover. I can’t remember the last time I had one this bad.”
“And I don’t think we were even that drunk.” She grunted her agreement before we fell back into silence.
Last night was a blur, but I still remembered everything that happened when I got home. The way Ronan had kissed me, then pulled away because he wanted to do the right thing. The way I’d tested him, seeing if I could entice him enough to come to my room and fuck me silly. The way he’d stood outside my door—that was somehow better.
Everything about last night made me flush with embarrassment, but also with wanton need. He drove me insane, and the person I was last night was not the person I usually was. I needed the liquid courage to do that, and I was so happy I’d had it.
But this morning it was like nothing had happened. Everything felt normal between us. Ronan was ready long before I was, but he sat on the chair in the living room and waited for me. Then we walked out together, and he made sure I was safely buckled in my car before he followed me to work.
I hadn’t heard from him all day, though. He was probably busy catching up on work, but a part of me still felt a little insecure at his lack of acknowledgement of what had happened. We’d leapt over the line last night, in more ways than one, and I wasn’t sure where that left us.
Were we still in that weird pretend stage? In a friend-zone? Or were we something more? Friends with benefits? But I didn’t want that.
When I left my door open as an invitation, it was me telling him I was ready for something real. But maybe him staying outside was him telling me he wanted things to stay how they were?
I groaned again, this time not because of the pounding in my head, but because of the uncertainty in my life. Everything was up in the air. It was all confusing, and I had a million different emotions warring for dominance inside me.
There was only a week left until my family came to town, and Ronan and I were more fucked up now than we had been when we agreed to do this whole thing. Maybe it would’ve been easier to just tell my family we’d broken up. At least then I wouldn’t have fallen for Ronan, and we wouldn’t be in this mess.
The bell above the door chimed, and it took all I had to lift my head. Another groan nearly left me when I saw who it was.
“Hey, ,” Braydon said as he shut the door behind him. His eyes flicked between Gracie and me, then he let out a low chuckle. “Hungover?”
Gracie and I glanced at each other before she stood. “That obvious?” she asked, and he shrugged.
“I’ve seen a lot of hangovers,” he said, though the words held something in them—something that made the hair on my arms rise.
“What can I get you today?” I asked, pulling myself toward the screen to take his order.
“I think I’ll try a strawberry scone and a blended honey latte today.”
I tapped in the order before lifting my brows expectantly. “Anything else?”
He’d been into the bakery every day since I turned him down. He was like a fly I couldn’t shoo away. He sat at a table in the back and watched me for hours. He pretended to be on his laptop, but I could feel his gaze boring into me.
I was tired of being nice to him.
He was creepy, and he made me uncomfortable, but the words I knew I needed to say wouldn’t come. I needed to tell him to leave me alone, but…maybe he was a lonely guy? Maybe he didn’t have a lot of experience with women?
I was making excuses for him, but I knew what it was like to feel like an outsider. If Gracie would’ve told me to get lost when I first moved to town, I wouldn't have this job or a best friend.
Granted, I didn’t sit in her bakery for hours and watch her.
Gracie headed to the kitchen to get Braydon’s order together. I glanced around the room, remembering that we hadn’t cleaned up after the last group had left. We’d needed an immediate break, and didn’t expect anyone in for another hour or two.
“I need to clear your table,” I told him as I left the safety of the counter. He followed behind me a step too close. I could smell his cologne wafting off him, choking me.
“I’m in no rush,” he said. His breath ghosted along the back of my neck, and I whirled around. He was way too close. “When are you going to let me take you out?”
“I’m not.” I huffed out a humorless laugh. “I’m seeing someone.”
His eye twitched, and something like rage flickered over his face.
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”
“Kind of.”
“What’s that mean? Kind of?” He took a step closer, and I stepped back. A table pressed against my thighs, stopping me. Anger burned in his eyes, but his expression remained neutral.
“It means I’m seeing someone,” I reiterated, my heart suddenly slamming against my ribcage.
His jaw feathered, and I scooted the table back until it hit the wall. He followed me, step for step.
“You can see two people,” he said, his voice low. He shifted his body, his hands clenched at his sides. “Let me take you on a date.”
“I—no.”
Tension rippled off him in angry, thick waves. He moved his hand to my waist and dug his fingers in. His touch made my stomach churn, and nausea bubbled up my throat.
“D–don’t touch me,” I rasped, but my voice came out shaky and scared. “Don’t?—”
The bell above the door chimed, and Braydon finally stepped away. I peered around him at who entered and nearly sobbed.
“Is everything okay here?” Ronan asked, his eyes locked on Braydon, a predator noticing prey. I’d never seen Ronan look so serious before—so scary . He held his hand out without a word, but he didn’t need to say anything for me to understand.
I rushed out from behind Braydon and went to Ronan. He stepped in front of me and straightened to his full height. I wasn’t sure exactly how tall he was, but it was well over six-feet, and he towered over Braydon.
“I asked if everything was okay,” Ronan repeated, his voice a low growl.
“Fine,” Braydon clipped out. “This is the guy, then?” He threw his hand accusingly toward Ronan.
I gripped the back of Ronan’s uniform shirt, my hands trembling. “Yes,” I breathed. Ronan rested his hand on his belt, keeping himself between us.
“I think you should go,” he said. Braydon’s eyes narrowed, and I squeezed my eyes shut.
Leave.
Please. Just go.
The kitchen door swung open, and Gracie’s footsteps skidded to a stop. I glanced over my shoulder at her, finding her with a plate in hand and her eyes massive as she looked between the three of us.
“Go to the kitchen with Gracie,” Ronan said firmly. Gracie held her hand out, and I ran for it, grabbing it and hauling her into the room behind me.
We pushed the door open enough to see what was happening, our faces smashed together.
“You should leave.” Ronan stepped toward Braydon, but Braydon surprisingly didn’t budge. Instead, he puffed his chest out and went toe-to-toe with Ronan.
“Oh my god,” Gracie breathed, resting her hand over her mouth. “They can’t fight in here. I thrifted all this stuff. If they break it, I’ll never be able to replace it.”
“What if he pulls a knife or gun?” I blurted, and she slowly turned to look at me. “What?”
“Ronan is a cop,” she said. “Braydon would be an idiot to do that.”
“Yeah, but?—”
There was a commotion, and we snapped our attention back to the men. “Fuck you, pig,” Braydon spat. My eyes went wide as Ronan huffed out a laugh.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“I’m not telling you shit.”
“Why are you here bothering my girlfriend?”
Gracie’s mouth fell open at the words.
“ Girlfriend ,” she repeated, nudging me with her elbow. “Oh my god.”
“Shh.” I jabbed my finger into her side, my eyes glued to what was happening.
“You know, she’s been flirting with me for weeks,” Braydon said smugly. “Not very loyal, if you ask me. Kind of a slut.”
Ronan went deathly still, silent. He stared at Braydon, and I held my breath. Everything happened all at once—slowly, but quickly.
One second, Ronan was standing a few feet from Braydon, and the next, his hand was wrapped around the back of the other man’s neck. He hauled him forward, his lips curled in a mix of anger and disgust.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Ronan snarled. “If I ever hear you’ve been around my girl again?—”
“What?” Braydon challenged, struggling to get free of Ronan’s grip. “You’ll arrest me?”
A dark, humorless laugh left Ronan. “I won’t arrest you,” he said in a low voice. “I’ll fucking end you.”
I gasped at the words and wrapped my hand around Gracie’s. We watched as Ronan hauled Braydon through the bakery and outside. He roughly tossed him aside, and Braydon fell to the ground. A shouted threat fell from his lips, but I couldn’t make out the words. He glared up at Ronan, and I felt the hatred burning inside him. But Ronan just ignored him as he strolled back inside and flipped the lock on the door.
His chest inflated as he took a deep breath, and I rushed out of the kitchen. He stooped as I threw my arms around his neck, and he lifted me effortlessly off the ground. I nestled into him as he held me tightly.
“You okay, baby girl?” he murmured against my hair. I nodded, my face rubbing against the fabric of his shirt. “Does he come in often?”
“He has been for the last couple weeks,” I muttered. “Today is the first day he’s been?—”
“No,” Gracie said from behind me. Ronan put me back on the ground, but kept his arm protectively wrapped around my waist. “He’s been creepy before.”
“He’s asked me out a few times,” I explained. “But I’ve said no every time.”
“And…” she prompted.
“And he’s sat in the back corner?—”
“And he’s been watching you!”
Ronan’s jaw tensed as he turned his attention fully to me. “Has he escalated since we saw him at the diner?” I nodded guiltily, and he sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I shrugged and reached up to press my fingers into my temple. “If he comes back, call me immediately.”
“I will.”
My fingers danced over my cheekbones, then circled around my eyes. “You okay?” He tucked my hair behind my ear, his expression softening. “Still hungover?”
“We were until the excitement sobered us up,” Gracie laughed.
“Headache,” I mumbled.
Now that the adrenaline was leaving my body, I was beginning to feel the full effects of that migraine I knew had been coming. I thought I had more time.
“Migraine.”
“Oh, shit,” Gracie said. “You haven’t had one in so long.” I nodded, then winced. “Go home. Get some sleep.”
“I’m okay. I can?—”
“Go home,” she said again, more firmly.
“Come on, shortcake. I’ll drive you.”
“I’m really fine,” I told them, but they ignored me.
“Make sure she takes her medicine,” she said to Ronan. “She conveniently forgets?—”
“It makes me feel all loopy,” I countered.
“Because you fight your sleep on it.” I rolled my eyes at the scolding note in her voice. “It makes her sleep through her migraine so she’s not in pain.”
“What’s it called?” he asked, and Gracie told him. She’d helped me a few times when my migraines were debilitating, so she was well aware of what the medication was called and what to do to help. “What else?”
“Make sure her room is dark and cold. She has a migraine hat in her fridge—did you remember to put it in there?”
“Yes, Mom,” I mumbled.
“It’s bright pink, you can’t miss it. Make her wear it, and make sure she drinks plenty of water. And try not to cook anything or burn candles. Smells really bother her.”
“You know, I am a grown woman, right?” I said. The bright light nearly blinded me as I glared between them. The pounding in my head got worse, I winced again. “I can take care of myself.”
“Sure you can, sweetheart,” he said gently. “But you have me now. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”
That shut me up.
Maybe he felt the shift last night, too.
Gracie gathered my things, and Ronan shielded my eyes from the sunlight as we walked outside. “Foot up, baby.” His voice was as gentle as his hold on me as he helped me into his truck. “Just keep your eyes closed.”
He tossed my stuff in the backseat before starting the truck up. His hand rested on my thigh the entire drive home, and when we got there, he led me to his bedroom instead of the guest room.
“I have blackout curtains in here,” he explained as he pulled back the blankets on his bed. “And my bed is comfier. What PJs do you want?”
“I can—” Nausea bubbled in my stomach, and I rested my hand over my mouth.
Without a word, he lifted me and took me to the bathroom. The cold tiles bit into my knees as he lifted the lid of the toilet for me.
“Get—” Before the words could come out, I retched into the toilet and groaned.
This was so embarrassing.
He crouched beside me and rested his hand on my back. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’m here.”
“I wish you weren’t,” I groaned.
“Oh.”
I pried my eyes open at the sadness in his voice and peered up at him. “Because I don’t want you to see me like this,” I rasped. “It’s gross and embarrassing.”
His lips twitched. “Trust me, I’ve seen worse.”
I retched again, groaning as the pounding in my head got worse. He stayed by my side the entire time, rubbing soothing circles on my back and holding my hair away from my face.
Everything was a blur after that. Ronan helped me change into one of his T-shirts and put me to bed before grabbing a bottle of water for me. I wasn’t sure how much time passed before he returned with my medicine and migraine hat.
His touch was as gentle as his voice. He dabbed a cool washcloth along my chest and face before settling the cap over my head.
“Get some rest, sweetheart. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“You can go back to work,” I mumbled, resting my hand on his thigh. The medication was already working, and I began drifting to sleep.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly. Lifting my hand, he pressed his lips to the back of it. “Sleep now, baby.”