Chapter 24
24
RONAN
H ead propped against a mountain of pillows, I take a huge gulp of my blue sports drink and run a hand down my sweaty chest. I’m still struggling to catch my breath.
Fuck. I just ate Nicky Westbrook’s pussy and it was incredible. Peaches have nothing on her. She tastes like heaven and she smells like a perfume and the way she moans my name is now an anthem replaying in my brain.
She sits at the foot of the bed, hooking the clasp of her bra. She hasn’t said much since she came all over my face a few moments ago, and right now, she seems to be lost in deep thought. I’m desperate to gauge how she’s feeling in the aftermath of what we just did.
I lazily trail a finger along the waistline of her panties. "You should come back to bed.”
She peeks at me over her shoulder, an ironic smile on her lips. "Aww. Look at you. You had one little taste and now you're addicted."
I crawl across the mattress, hooking an arm around her waist and yanking her into my lap. I sweep her hair over her shoulder, placing a kiss at the curve of her neck.
"Peach, I was addicted long before I ever had the honor of tasting you."
When I say that, the smile falls from her face. She squirms out of my lap, leaving my arms empty without her. “Ronan—we both agreed that we can’t make this a…a ‘thing’.”
“Um, what? When did we agree to that ?”
Her hands falter where they’re busy sliding into the sleeves of her blouse. “Two seconds before you…” Her words disappear in her throat.
“…Devoured your cat?” I grin, finishing her sentence for her.
“You’re not funny.” She frowns at me. Then she lays down the law. “No more hooking up.”
“Hell no,” I protest. “I totally vote for more hooking up.” Not sure I’m helping my case. But it’s worth the effort.
At that, Nicky hops up to her feet and shimmies back into her skirt. “Oh really? You vote for more hookups? What a surprise.” She huffs with sarcasm.
She shakes her head, growling and muttering and mumbling under her breath.
My frustration at this situation is growing. Why is she making this so hard? I don’t like that she keeps me at arm’s length. It’s bullshit. I want to be close to her. “Can we stop fighting now?”
She gets all defensive. “Fighting? We’re not fighting. You may be fighting but I’m not fighting. I’m just saying—”
“Let’s stop fighting this attraction between us.” I touch her hand, flitting my fingertips over her knuckles. “This is a losing battle. We’re stuck with each other for the foreseeable future. Let’s just give in.”
Her head tilts to one side. Her eyes go narrow. “Ronan, what are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting that we make the most of the circumstances.” I inch closer to the foot of the bed where she’s standing. “Come on, Nicky. We could spin this situation into a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
Her arms fold protectively over her chest. “I don’t like the way that sounds…”
I push through my nerves. “This chemistry between us isn’t going away any time soon. And I don’t know about you, but I’ve been wasting a whole lot of unnecessary energy fighting it. Instead, let’s spin this into a good thing.”
“How do you mean?” There’s a deep, adorable crinkle between her brows.
“We could use this time to…practice.”
“Practice?”
I take a breath and explain myself. “I hate hearing you say that relationships have been disappointing for you. I hate that you think you can’t find the kind of man you really want. All I keep thinking is, what can I do to change that for you, to change your experience?”
She slowly rolls a palm over her forehead, looking stressed the fuck out. “Oh my god, Ronan. What are you saying?”
“Earlier, you said you wish you could build your ideal man from scratch.” I fling my arms out at my sides. “Well, I’m here. I volunteer. Build me from scratch.”
Her eyes are absolutely bulging now. “Do you realize how insane you sound?! I’m not your…your plaything. I’m not your toy.”
My head wags dismissively. I’m trying to make her understand me. “I’m not asking you to be my plaything. More like a ‘study buddy’, if you will. That’s far less sleazy.”
She scoff. “Still sleazy, Ronan. Still sleazy.”
“Put your judgments aside for a minute and hear me out, Nicky.” I sigh. “When you were saying that you’ve given up on ever finding that kind of connection you want, I just kept thinking that the problem is, you don’t even know how to ask for what you want.”
She’s hustling to finish buttoning up her shirt. “Yup. You’re crazy. I’m half-naked in a hotel room with a crazy man. Oh god.”
I keep going, speaking quickly before she can cut me off. “One thing is clear to me, Nicky. If you’re ever going to find the kind of relationship you want, you’re going to need practice asking for what you need.” I dare to reach out and hold her hand. “That’s where I come in. You get to practice on me. You get to tell me how to be your boyfriend. You get to give me directions. And I’ll follow them. With a fucking smile on my face.”
She gently pries her fingers from mine. “Ronan, the sentiment is sweet. But I’m not going to order you around like some…some…robot?…Animal?…Computer program…? I can’t even find the word I’m looking for.”
“Are you forgetting that I’m an athlete? I’m used to getting ordered around.” I grin. “Consider yourself my coach. You’ll coach me into how to be a boyfriend.”
She’s slowly shaking her head like none of what I’m saying makes sense. “Okay, I see what’s the benefit for me. But what’s in it for you?”
“You’re going to teach me to be a good boyfriend,” I declare simply. “You clearly think that I’m a fuckboy. And maybe I am. But I genuinely want to be a better man. I do. So you’re going to teach me exactly what a girl like you wants in a partner.”
She gives me an incredulous look. “Why do you even care what a girl like me wants in a partner?”
“Well, you may not be willing to give me a shot. But I’m hoping to score a woman like you one day. A woman who’s gorgeous and ambitious, strong and confident, fun and smart and fucking hot . How could I not want a woman like you?”
To be clear, I don’t want a woman ‘like’ her. I want her . Nobody else.
There’s only one Nicky Westbrook in this world. I don’t see how any other woman could possibly compete.
I continue. “I’ll never have access to the kind of woman I want if I don’t have the right…skillset, the right…toolkit.”
For a moment, she seems to consider my perspective. But then that cloud of doubt rolls back in. “This is stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. And it’s going to end badly. How do you know one of us won’t get our hearts broken in all of this?”
“Because we both know that this is an experiment. We know that we’re just testing things out, like relationship training. Look at it as a way to practice for a relationship all while knowing that what we’re doing is not real, it’s not permanent.”
Nicky’s still not sold on the idea. “This sounds dangerous.”
“It’s not. I promise. All I see is benefits.” I start listing out the perks on my fingers. “We get to work out the sexual tension between us, guilt-free. You get to practice your emotions in a safe environment. I get a feel for what it’s like to have a girlfriend. And the best part is when the hockey season is over and we don’t have to see each other any more, we’ll have all this practice and experience under our belts to go out into the dating world.”
I recognize the look on her face. She knows that I’m right. Yet she continues resisting. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Nicky, I watched some douchebag break up with you and you acted like you were above it all. Like it was no big deal.”
“Because it wasn’t.”
“He hurt your feelings. And you were afraid that saying so would make you look weak. That was bullshit. You just need practice speaking up for what you want. You need practice being vulnerable. In a safe space. I can be that safe space.”
“A practice relationship?” she’s whispering to herself. “That sounds crazy.”
“Is it though?” I challenge her. “I want to be good at hockey. I want to be the best. So what do I do?”
She fumbles. “Well, you practice…”
“Right. I wake up every day and I practice. I don’t just jump out on the ice on game night and hope for the best. I practice. So why would it be any different with a relationship?”
“It’s not the same. Be real.”
“It’s rough out there. If you want to be confident when you step back into the dating pool, you’re going to need to have a plan. I can help you. Let me help you.”
I reach for her hand but she’s too busy stuffing her paperback into her bag and hiking the strap up her shoulder. Who the hell is that shirtless dude on the cover of that romance novel? Does Nicky think he’s hot? And why am I randomly jealous of some stranger on the cover of a romance novel?
What has Nicky Westbrook done to me?
“This conversation is over,” she announces, frantically shaking her head. “This is too much crazy talk for this time of night. I need…I need a bed. I need sleep.” She grabs the handle of her rolling bag.
Her blouse is half-tucked and I’m pretty sure her skirt is inside out. And there’s a big wet spot on the bum.
Frowning, I watch her march for the exit. “Where are you going?” I call out to her.
“To my own roo—” At the door, she smacks her forehead. “Wait. This is my own room.”
And I’m the unwanted guest.
Okay. Fine.
“I’m guessing you want me to leave?”
Nicky doesn’t look at me. She lets her eyes linger on the floor. “I think that would be a good idea.”
My chest collapses in a rough exhale. I can’t get ahead with this girl. Two steps forward. Two hundred steps back. Fuck. I made a mess out of this night.
Grabbing my drink and my sweater, I fling my legs over the side of the bed. I pass by her, reaching for the doorknob. “Look, I’m sor—”
She stops me with a hand on my bicep. Immediately, electricity sparks on my skin. So much power in that simple touch. “Don’t apologize.” She brushes her lips over my cheek, surrounding me the her fruity shampoo. “This is how it’s got to be.”
I want to tell her that’s bullshit. Instead, I clench my jaw. “Right.”
And with that, I’m out the door.