Page 56 of Too Hostile

“What?” I snap. “He’s even younger than the poor kid with Professor Tuttle. Probably even more vulnerable too. He’s not what I thought he was. He’s not a spoiled little rich boy.”

“Fucking duh,” Annie says calmly as if she knows that already, and I cock my head to the side in question. “We talk. He’s a good kid. I like him a lot, and the fact that you both come from a foster care background isn’t a bad thing. It’s not a flaw in your relationship, it’s a connection. It’s powerful. You make each other stronger.”

Fletcher told her about his past? “You know about him being in foster care?”

“Yes,” she says simply. “I know all about it. About the abuse. The neglect. The fear. God, it was like he was telling me your story through his eyes, Ronan. And you both made it out. You’re both strong men.”

I stare at her, unblinking and unsure what the hell to say. “I don’t have anything to offer him.” She starts to argue, and I’m the one to cut her off with a firm shake of my head. “I can’t give up my job, and you know I can’t. Kids like us, all we want is stability when we grow up. I can’t give that up for anyone. I’ve worked too hard.”

Way too damn hard.

Fuck, I think about all the nights I only got one or two hours of sleep because I had to wake up and go to the dining hall on campus, not to eat, but to work before my first class. About cleaning offices and doing so many odd jobs every single day while I went to college.

I never had spring break. I never had summer break. I never had a damn break in my life. I’m only just now starting to breathe, starting to relax. I can’t risk my job now that I’m almost fully comfortable.

“You’ve done nothing wrong.” she tries to state again, but it falls on deaf ears.

“I doubt the dean will feel that way.”

She shakes her head, and I see the pity she has for me. “You’ve been happier than I’ve ever seen you before, Ronan.” She looks over at Fletcher and smiles before her gaze returns to me. “It’s because of him. Not your house. Not your job. Him.”

I swallow hard, a heavy lump in my throat because I know she’s right. He does make me happy. He loosens me up, and I relax when I’m around him. “He makes me happy. But my house and that job—they give me something I’ve never had in my entire life.” I force myself not to look back at him, and I only look at Annie. “Security.”

“Is it really worth it without happiness, Ronan?” She’s not being rude. She’s dead serious. She may be a bit of a romantic, but she has an uncanny way of weighing pros and cons.

“I think happiness is a luxury some of us just never get.” I never really thought about being happy when I was a kid. I did, however, think about safety. All the damn time. About having a roof over my head where I knew I would eat that day and I’d be safe at night.

“Oh, Ronan.” She sounds like she’s in so much pain—pain for me—but she doesn’t get a chance to say anything else because Fletcher and Nathan finish their game and rejoin us at the booth.

Fletcher’s in a really good mood as he teases Nathan, and we all fall into an easy conversation, like we’ve been a group of friends for years and not like he’s only just joined us.

I can see the affection both of my friends feel for Fletcher. It’s written all over their faces as we sit and chat. As I watch him, that same overwhelming feeling I have for him sweeps over me.

I’m in love with him.

There’s no doubt about it, and when Annie peers at me from across the table, I know she knows that too. She saw it before I did, and I have no idea what the hell to do with this information.

We barely make it through the door of my house before I’m on him. I may not be able to tell him out loud that I’m in love with him, but I can tell him with my mouth and my hands. With my entire body and soul.

I want to tell him with words too, but I don’t have the strength in me to say it out loud and then let him go. It’s the last thread. The one thing keeping me together that I haven’t actually said the words.

“Oh shit, that feels good,” he says as I kiss down his neck and suck hard on the crevice between his neck and his shoulder. “Yes.”

When he’s this far gone, it’s so damn easy to get lost in his raspy, sexy tone. I pull his tank top off over his head and toss it to the ground, quickly following it with my own shirt. I fumble with the buttons, just wanting to rip the damn thing so I can feel his skin on mine, but I manage not to before I toss it behind us. His muscles flex under my fingers as I drag my hands all over his warm skin.

I’m afraid to speak because I’m terrified the words will slip out, so I quickly rid him of his shorts and shoes, leaving him fully naked before me. He’s like art. His body is like carved stone perfection.

My eyes run over every single inch of his bare skin, and I drag my hands over his firm biceps, squeezing the muscles and reveling in his strength. His hands are all over me too. Completing the task of getting me naked before his lips slam against mine, and we’re kissing as we walk further into my house.

“I need inside you,” he says against my mouth, and all I can do is nod because I want that too. Desperately.

I don’t want him to move though. This moment is too perfect. I hold up one finger, telling him to wait, and I dash to my room, grabbing the lube and then coming back, giving it to him as I lean over the back of the couch, spreading my legs and pushing my ass out for him.

He makes some sort of strangled noise that goes straight to my dick and makes it even harder than it was before I feel his heat behind me. I feel his hard cock against my ass, sliding in between my crease, but not touching my hole, and his thighs against the back of mine. His front presses to my back as he boxes me in against the couch.

His hands smooth down over my shoulders and my back, his lips making a slow trail down my spine, sending goosebumps through their wake.

“Fletcher,” I breathe softly.

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