Chapter 9
Nine
Ronan
Each time I saw Aria, the pull grew stronger. The other guys had made their feelings clear at Noah's—carefully, thoughtfully, but clear nonetheless. They wanted her. We all did. But I had more at stake than any of them, and that made everything more complicated.
I was the only one in our group who hadn't left his marriage by choice.
The others had divorced, had fallen out of love, had grown apart.
Me? I'd lost Eva in the worst way possible, and I'd spent years trying to forget what that felt like.
Having Aria here, looking so much like her, brought everything back—the good and the unbearable.
The guys had chosen me to have the conversation with Aria about our arrangement.
It made sense on paper. I was the steady one, the mature one, the one who could be trusted to handle delicate situations without letting emotion take over.
But sitting in my office, staring at the clock as it ticked toward the time she'd arrive with Finn, I wasn't sure I could remain objective about her at all.
I wanted her. God, I wanted her. But it wasn't just physical—it was the way she laughed with Finn, the way she'd seamlessly become part of our chaotic family, the way she looked at me sometimes like she could see past every wall I'd built. It terrified me.
"Knock, knock!”
Aria's voice pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced at the clock and realised I'd been sitting there, lost in my head, for nearly an hour. She was already here with Finn, and I hadn't prepared a single word of what I needed to say.
"Ronan?" she called again.
"Hi Daddy," Finn greeted.
"Can I watch Pit Stop?" His current obsession—a cartoon about racing cars that he could recite by heart.
"I'm hungry."
I looked at him, this little person who was my entire world, and felt my chest tighten. "Do I look like a walking need-fulfiller to you?" I asked, keeping my tone light.
He stared back at me blankly.
"I'll take that as a yes. Come on." I stood and looked at Aria, who was watching us with that soft smile that made my heart do things I wasn't ready to name. "Do you have a moment? I'll just get him set up with dinner and his show, then I wanted to talk to you about something.”
She nodded, her smile brightening. "Of course."
"Come on in. Make yourself comfortable," I said, gesturing toward the den.
Finn was already headed to the living room, and I followed, watching as he went through his nightly routine with the precision of a tiny engineer. He was a child of habit, my son.
He dragged his small armchair across the floor, positioning it exactly where he wanted it in front of the TV—not too close, because he knew I'd tell him to move back. Then he retrieved his little table and set it beside the chair before climbing up and looking at me expectantly.
I chuckled and headed to the kitchen, preparing his favourite meal: chicken nuggets and fries, with a juice box and carrot sticks on the side.
When I delivered it to him, he didn't say thank you—just settled in and started eating.
I queued up his favourite episode of Pit Stop from our saved recordings, and as I passed by, he held up a nugget to me.
An offering. His version of gratitude.
"You're welcome, bud," I said, ruffling his hair. "You eat it for me."
He popped it into his mouth without looking up, already absorbed in the show.
I walked back to the den and found Aria standing by the fireplace, studying the photos on the mantle. I didn't keep many out—most reminders of my old life were too dangerous, too painful. But there were a few of Finn and me, and his kindergarten school photo.
"He's pretty cute, isn't he?" I asked.
She turned, smiling. "He's very cute. He doesn't look much like you. Does he take after his mother?”
The question landed like a stone in my chest. I wasn't ready to answer that. "Are you saying I'm not cute?" I deflected.
Her cheeks flushed. "N-no! You're very cute. Uh, I mean…" She laughed, shaking her head. "Well played."
I moved closer, letting the moment settle before shifting gears. "I wanted to talk to you about what the guys and I discussed. Liam told us what happened—that he explained our arrangement."
"He did," she confirmed.
"And that you'd be willing." I stopped a few feet away, close enough to catch the faint scent of her perfume—something light and floral that made me want to lean in.
She nodded. "I would be. I obviously find you all very attractive."
I took another step, closing the distance until I could see the flecks of colour in her eyes.
"We all feel the same way. But I want you to know—this isn't just about sex for us. We appreciate what you do for our children. We want to treat you with the respect you deserve. We're not going to ask you to do anything you're not ready for. We move at your pace.”
"I don't think I've ever had a boyfriend who's done that," she said softly.
"So you're already ahead.”
"And you're absolutely sure you want this?" I asked, needing to hear it again. "It usually takes more convincing."
"I've always been forward-thinking," she said. "I have a friend, Sadie, who has five partners of her own. Her sister has four. Several people in my circle find polyamory perfectly normal and healthy."
"That's because it is," I agreed. Relief and something warmer flooded through me.
"So you're really in?”
She stepped closer, her eyes bright with something that looked like desire mixed with affection.
"I am. I've come to know and care for all your kids. Why shouldn't I take care of the dads too?"
She was perfect. Too perfect. And I felt that old protective instinct rise up—the need to shield her, to make sure she was safe and happy. I saw so much of Eva in her, but I also saw Aria. Her own person. Her own light.
And God help me, I wanted her.
I wrapped my arms around her waist and guided her back against the wall beside the fireplace. Her arms came up around my neck, pulling me close, and I didn't resist anymore. I kissed her, slow and deep, pouring everything I couldn't say into the press of my lips against hers.
My body ached with want. I squeezed her hips, pressing my knee between her thighs, and she responded immediately—grinding against me, letting out soft breaths that drove me wild.
But then she pulled back, her hand on my chest.
"Why?" I asked, my voice rough.
She smiled. "Finn."
She kissed me once more, quick and sweet, then slipped past me. I followed her down the hall to the living room, where we found Finn passed out in his chair, head tilted back, mouth slightly open.
She tiptoed in, moved his table aside, and lifted him into her arms with practised ease. For a moment, I saw Eva—the ghost of her doing the same thing years ago. But then the image shifted, and it was just Aria, caring for my son with such tenderness that my throat tightened.
She was helping me heal. Helping us both heal.
She carried Finn to his bedroom, tucked him in, and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. He settled immediately, sinking into sleep faster than usual.
The moment we were out of his room, I was on her. My hands slid into her hair, my mouth finding hers with desperate need. We moved down the hallway like a storm, barely making it to my bedroom before I was lowering her onto the bed.
I kept my lips on hers, only breaking away long enough for her to pull my shirt over my head. I tugged at her lower lip with my teeth, loving the way she moaned and arched into me.
My heart pounded as I slid my hands up her sides, pushing her shirt up. When her stomach was bare, I moved my mouth down, kissing and tasting her skin. She was sweet—everything about her was sweet.
She pulled her top off, and I reached around to unclasp her bra, letting it fall away. Her breasts were beautiful, and I took my time with them, teasing her nipples with my tongue and fingers until she was threading her hands through my hair and crying out softly.
I kissed my way down her body as I unbuttoned her jeans, sliding my hand inside to feel her through her underwear. She was already wet, and the knowledge sent heat straight through me.
"Ronan," she breathed, and hearing my name on her lips like that nearly undid me.
I took my time, building the tension, keeping her just on the edge. I wanted this to last. I'd waited so long to let someone in again, and now that it was happening, I wanted to savour every moment.
When I finally pulled her jeans away and settled between her thighs, she looked up at me with such trust, such want, that something in my chest cracked open.
"You're sure?" I asked one more time.
"I'm sure," she whispered.
"I want you, Ronan."
I kissed her deeply as I positioned myself, and when I finally pushed inside, the feeling was overwhelming. Not just physically—though she felt incredible—but emotionally. Like I was letting go of something I'd been holding onto for too long.
I moved slowly at first, watching her face, learning what she liked. She wrapped her legs around me, pulling me deeper, and I let myself get lost in her—in the way she felt, the sounds she made, the way she looked at me like I was everything.
"You feel so good," she whispered against my ear.
I buried my face in her neck, breathing her in. "So do you. God, Aria."
We moved together, finding a rhythm that felt natural, inevitable. And when she came apart beneath me, her body tightening around mine, I followed her over the edge, holding her close as we both shattered.
Afterward, we lay tangled together, breathing hard. She traced patterns on my chest, and I held her, feeling more at peace than I had in years.
"Wow," she said softly.
"Yeah," I agreed, pressing a kiss to her hair.
"Wow."
She looked up at me, her eyes searching.
"Are you okay?"
I nodded, even though the truth was more complicated. I was okay. Better than okay. But I was also terrified—of losing this, of losing her, of letting myself care this much again.
"I'm good," I said, and it wasn't a lie.
"Really good."
She smiled and settled against me, and I held her as we drifted toward sleep, knowing that everything had changed. I was falling for her, and it scared me more than I wanted to admit.
But maybe, just maybe, it would be worth the risk.