26. Wren #3
“I was the spare. The backup they never expected to need.”
“Except Carson chose to play hockey instead of own it.”
I nod. “Threw my parents for a loop, although God knows why. He’s loved playing hockey since he was old enough to walk. Playing in the NHL was all he ever talked about growing up, so why they didn’t see it coming is beyond me.”
“Our parents choose to see only what they want to see,” Ronan muses, understanding. “They’re so caught up in manipulating our lives to suit their needs that they fail to notice we have our own hopes and dreams that we want to live out.”
I nod, my throat tight. His words hit too close to home, except unlike him and Carson, I haven’t managed to break free to live out my own hopes and dreams. Hell, I don’t even know what my hopes and dreams are.
“Is that why you transferred to Valehurst?”
I take another bite of pie. “Another decision that wasn’t my choice.”
“We thought maybe it was because of that night.” He shrugs. “Maybe you figured out who attacked you.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Thought I was here to get revenge on the three of you?”
He smirks. “It was one of the options.”
I shake my head, my smile slowly dying. “No, I don’t have a clue who attacked me that night. I don’t imagine I’ll ever know.”
Leaning forward, Ronan braces his elbows on the table.
“We’ve been trying to look into it.” That catches my attention, my eyebrows lifting.
“There’s not a lot to go on, and we can really only focus on Valehurst students, but we’ve been identifying who was at the party that night and who definitely wasn’t, and trying to narrow down the suspect pool. ”
“Why?” I ask, curiously. “Why go to all that bother?”
His eyes search mine. “In case you ever want to know.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “I don’t know if I’ll ever want to know.” I shake my head. “It probably doesn’t even matter. It’s most likely a BSU student, or someone who has already graduated.”
“It is,” he agrees, “but doesn’t mean we can’t make sure that it’s not one of us.” He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t have to work around them if it is or feel afraid like you did tonight.” He arches a brow. “You going to tell me what happened?”
I sigh, once again fiddling with my fork. “It was nothing really. Isaac was in a mood because of the play change earlier.”
“And he took it out on you?” Ronan practically snarls.
“He was just looking for a punching bag, and I was there,” I say with a dismissive wave of my hand. I don’t want to ruin the night talking about Isaac.
Ronan’s brows pull down in a frown, but he thankfully drops the subject.
“So tell me, did your mother also expect you to not get your clothes dirty when you played outside?” I ask with a grin. “‘Cause my mother used to have a coronary anytime she found a speck of dirt on my dresses.”
We share war stories of our childhood growing up until the waitress comes over to tell us the diner is closing.
Ronan insists on driving me back to my apartment, not that I put up much resistance.
I’ve had more fun than I thought I would tonight.
Ronan is always so serious, but he’s got a dry sense of humor that had me in stitches.
Pulling up to the curb outside my apartment, he exits the car before coming around to open my door for me. He helps me out, keeping a hold of my hand as we walk to the front door of the building.
“Thanks for tonight,” I tell him, turning to face him once we reach the door. “I really enjoyed it.”
He smiles down at me. “So did I.”
“We could make it a regular thing,” I suggest. “Just you and me.”
His smile softens, reaching to his eyes until they twinkle. “I’d really like that, although maybe next time we find a better topic than our equally messed-up childhoods.”
I grin. “Deal.”
His gaze drops to my lips, and my lungs catch as he steps closer. Our breath tangles in the air between us.
“Are you finally going to kiss me?” I ask, slightly breathless.
He smirks. “You finally accepting what this is?”
“Yes.”
I barely have the admission past my lips before he smothers the words with his mouth.
Ronan’s lips are soft yet firm, demanding yet controlled as he encourages mine to open.
I moan into his mouth, my arms coming up to wind around his neck and pull him closer as our tongues connect.
Sparks sizzle and snap along my veins as I give myself over to him.
His arms band around me, holding me steady, and I can feel the rapid beat of his heart as it thumps against my chest.
Maybe it’s the build-up, the anticipation from wanting him to kiss me for weeks now, but kissing Ronan is like having your world upended. I know life will never be the same again.
“Damn, I’m regretting not doing that the first time I thought about it,” he rasps, voice thick and lips swollen when we finally break apart.
“It was definitely worth the wait.”
I grin up at him, and he returns it, before pulling me in again.
We lose the next hour to exploring one another’s mouths, to memorizing the shape of lips, and the way he groans when I tug on his hair.