Page 73 of Tiny Fractures

“Woah, are you alright?” Ronan chuckles as he steps into the house.

I didn’t see him at all yesterday because we were both busy—Ronan with work and conditioning, and me watching my brother and sister while my mom had emergency patients to see.

“I’m fine, just couldn’t wait to see you,” I say, catching my breath. “You got a haircut!”

Ronan’s hair is my favorite kind of effortlessly tousled on top with longer strands falling across his forehead, but his hair fades and is tightly cropped around the back and sides of his head. I run my hand over his neck and the back of his head, loving the feeling of his fresh cut. He must love the feeling, too, because his eyes close as soon as my fingers begin to caress his skin. I can’t help it—I kiss his lips softly as I urge my body closer to his.

I’ve been feeling adventurous, braver, more eager to test my boundaries with him, and for some reason, I feel extra feisty today. Maybe it’s because I know I won’t get to soak in his presence, his warmth, his energy for a few days, and it makes my heart ache. How is it even possible to have only known someone for a month and already be so lost to them?

Ronan’s hands find my hips, and he pulls me against him. My whole body touches his, and I part my lips to allow him entrance. We kiss like this for a few minutes before he reluctantly breaks the contact, then takes a small step back to look into my eyes. I swear he has a way of looking directly into my soul.

“So, training camp tomorrow, huh?” he asks, his voice husky. I can still taste him on my lips.

“Unfortunately.” I slide my hand from his neck down his chest to rest it on his side. “So, what should we do with the last few hours we have together?” I ask, forcing my voice to sound innocent as I blink up at him.

A mischievous grin forms on his full lips. “I can think of a few things.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” I ask, raising one eyebrow.

He takes my hand into his. “I’ll show you.” He leads me out of the hallway, through the living room, and up the stairs to my room.

My heart speeds up with each step, anticipating his touch. My senses are heightened, my nerves under tension as I analyze myself, trying to figure out how far I want this to go.

As soon as we get to my room, Ronan’s lips are on mine, searing hot as our tongues explore each other. His hands find my low back, sending ripples of excitement through my core. Goose bumps erupt when Ronan’s fingers sneak under the hem of my shirt to gently stroke the bare skin of my back.

I don’t think I have control over my body at this point; I follow suit and carefully slide my right hand underneath his shirt. My fingers discover the contours of Ronan’s firm stomach, outlining his abs, tracing each ridge. I push his shirt up to gain access to more of him, reveling in the feel of him as his lips leave mine to trace my jawline before he kisses my neck.

“You are so beautiful, Cat,” Ronan whispers against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. Ronan slowly glides his hand up my back. The feel of his fingers on my bare skin is intoxicating, and I moan softly while my fingers roam his chest. God, his skin is so warm, so soft. My other hand moves underneath Ronan’s shirt, up his side, feeling his ribs as I push up the hem of his shirt even more, exposing him to me.

He hesitates for a second, studying my eyes, then reaches his left hand over his head and tugs his shirt off, dropping it to the floor. It’s the first time he’s done this, the first time we’ve gotten to any sort of state of undress, and my heart speeds up, hammering against my chest, testing its resolve. I let my eyes roam his naked torso, marveling at his sun-kissed, smooth skin, his lean, muscular shoulders, arms, and chest, his sexy stomach. But before I can get too distracted, Ronan crashes his lips against mine and I’m immediately lost in the feeling of him touching me again. My hands are everywhere, exploring the landscape of his back and shoulders before sliding across his ribs and coming to rest on his chest. His heart hammers against his ribs, and his breathing is as erratic as mine.

“Cat?” my mom calls from downstairs.

My eyes fly open, meeting Ronan’s.

“Of course,” he groans quietly, then takes a step back. His hands retreat from my skin as he picks up his shirt off the floor and pulls it back over his head.

“Kitty, are you upstairs?” my mom calls again, making her way up the stairs.

I adjust my shirt, making sure I don’t look too disheveled as I try to get my breathing under control. It feels like I just got off an amazing rollercoaster ride that ended too soon. “Yeah, Mom. What’s up?” I say, my voice pitchy. I run my hands through my hair. This is beyond frustrating.

“Hey,” she says as she reaches my doorway. I didn’t close the door when Ronan led me upstairs, expecting to have the house to ourselves for a couple of hours, and both Ronan and I stand awkwardly in the middle of my room. “Hi Ronan,” she adds, and smiles warmly at him.

He reciprocates the smile, though I can tell he’s working hard to calm himself down, sobering himself up as quickly as humanly possible.

I smile to myself, knowing I turn him on so much. It makes me feel beautiful and, yeah, powerful.

“I’m really sorry, I feel like I always interrupt you two. But I just got a call.” She turns her attention to me. “I need to run to the clinic; I have a patient in crisis and need to see him right now. I’m sorry, Kitty,” she adds, looking crestfallen.

“It’s alright, Mom.” I don’t want her to feel bad for doing her job, for helping people. “Where are Benny and Sam?” I ask, and move to take Ronan’s hand. He interlaces his fingers with mine.

“Downstairs. Benny is really upset because I promised them ice cream,” she sighs, shaking her head.

“We’ll take them for ice cream,” Ronan says, like it’s a given thing. My mom beams at him while I stare at his perfect profile and marvel at how selfless this boy is and how I got so damn lucky.

“Oh my gosh, that would be amazing. Thank you!” My mom throws her arms around Ronan’s neck, hugging him tightly. He raises his eyebrows at me, one hand still holding mine while his other arm is by his side, unsure of what to do with my mom’s affection toward him, and I giggle. My mom releases Ronan from her hug. “I’m going to head out, then. I promise I’ll make this up to you guys somehow. Hopefully I didn’t interrupt too much.” She winks at us with a grin and walks out of my room.

I have a hard time reading Ronan; his face is serious and his jaw tense. “Are you okay?”

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