Page 32 of Too Hostile

“Jesus fuck! Run, you dumbass!” Bree shouts at the television, and okay, I smile because I really love her.

“Bree, it’s kind of hard to run in heels like that, I’m sure,” Rhett supplies as he takes a bite of pizza.

“I wouldn’t know,” she says, kicking her Converse tennis shoes up on my coffee table.

I grin and then look at Rhett. “Where the hell is your better half, by the way?”

Rhett looks sad but happy at the same time because he’s totally whipped, and those two are together as often as possible. “Taking a summer class.”

“Aw, do you miss him?” I tease, already knowing the answer.

“Fuck yes, I do. He’ll be done in an hour, and then you can bet your asses I’m out of here.” Is it bad that I’m happy to have that timeline? Yes, it is. I’m glad they stopped by. I really am. Bree is going off to New York in the fall.

An uncomfortable feeling sweeps over me at that thought. I don’t think I’ve fully allowed myself to think about that before, and I sure don’t want to think about it right now.

“Earth to Fletcher.” I hear Bree and turn to look at her.

“What?”

She cocks her head to the side, studying me. “Oh my God, what are you thinking about? The hottie professor?”

Rhett grins, and I love and hate that they both know about that now. “No.” But I also don’t want to tell them about what I was really thinking about. How Bree is leaving and won’t be in the same state for the first time since I met her.

“Yeah, right. Then why didn’t you answer me,” Rhett says suspiciously.

“Didn’t hear you.” I eye him. “What?”

“I asked when you’re going to finally let me give you a tattoo, you big baby.” He nudges my shoulder, and I laugh heartily at that.

“Never,” I give him the same answer I always have, sweeping my hand over the length of my body. “You don’t mess with perfection, Rhett. You know that.”

He rolls his eyes at me, and Bree fake gags. It’s a good time. “Fine. Then tell us more about your hot professor,” he counters.

Yeah, that’s not going to happen. I’m not sure why I haven’t told them about the kiss—and uh, more—that’s happened between Ronan and me, all I know is that I haven’t. Which is kind of strange.

I know that it’s just a summer fling—he goes out of his way to mention that as often as possible—as if I could forget. But I know it is, and normally, I’d give Rhett and Bree far too many details about my hookups just to watch them squirm uncomfortably and beg me to stop. But not with this.

For some reason, this seems off-limits.

“The professor who hates him.” Bree so helpfully adds, and I should tell them that maybe he doesn’t hate me all that much anymore. Maybe he doesn’t hate me at all, but I don’t. I’m silent.

They move on to a different topic easily though. Before I know it, they’re heading out, and I’m jogging over to Ronan’s house because I don’t think driving and parking near his house would be a good idea.

It doesn’t take me long to get there, and as soon as he opens the door to let me in, my lips are on his. The door is closed and secure behind us as we make our way to his bedroom, not wasting any time.

I mean, we only have the summer, right?

There really is no time to waste.

He doesn’t seem to mind that I’m sweaty at all, his hands working to get rid of every scrap of my clothing as I work on his, our mouths tangled the entire time. I can’t stop kissing him. I’ve never been this addicted to kissing in my life, but I don’t want to stop.

We fall onto his bed, completely naked, our legs intertwined as we kiss, not really in a hurry, now that we’re both naked.

“Hi,” he breathes against my mouth as he softly kisses my lips.

“Hi,” I say back, a stupid grin on my face as I kiss him back. He pushes me to my back, his hands going to my wrists as he lifts my arms above my hands and pins me there, straddling me. Our cocks are hard as he drags his heavy shaft over mine, making me groan.

I was here yesterday. I felt him like this and saw him like this just yesterday for the first time—but it doesn’t matter—I’m already addicted. I already missed this in the time we were apart.

---