Page 39 of Stranded

I nod slowly. “Yeah. You are.”

That’swhat the place needed to feel alive again, like it did when I was growing up. Not another coat of paint, or another oldradiator painstakingly swapped out… but someone who’s got a big enough, sparkly enough personality to fill it up.

Like Ronan.

It’s not just the living room piled high with fabrics, magazines, and vision boards. The guest bedroom walls are covered in an array of Blu-tacked sketches that he seems to rearrange every day. The fridge is filled with quick snacks he can grab on his way to class.

He just seems to belong there, like he always has.

I start walking again, and Ronan looks over at me. “For what it’s worth… I think I’ll be happy there.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “You will.” And like that, we’ve arrived right at the one thing I’ve been trying to figure out how to bring up. “Speaking of which, if you don’t need any more help settling in… I’ll move back downstairs.”

“Oh,” Ronan says, over the crunch of our footsteps on the beach. And for once, I can’t figure out how he feels about it.

The last thing I want to do is close the door at the bottom of the stairs, but it’s time to let him live his fabulous, sparkly life.

No matter how much it seems like the housewantsto be open… like it breathes better that way. It’s just my mind playing tricks, because I remember the house before the basement became an apartment at all.

Nothing can stay the same forever.

“How about one more night?” Ronan tells me softly, hooking his arm around mine and batting his lashes up at me.

I stare down at him, my tongue suddenly clumsy against the roof of my mouth. It’s hard when he suddenly touches me—whether he’s pressing up against me, or softly running his hand over my skin.

Any way he touches me, my brain turns to mush.

“I’m not used to living alone,” Ronan wheedles. “And I’m afraid of all the noises in the woods.”

I swallow hard and rest my hand on his, trying to be casual about it. If walking arm-in-arm can ever be casual.

“Maybe you should stop listening to scary podcasts before bed.”

“It wouldn’t be a problem if I had a big, strong man to cuddle it better,” Ronan tells me with great big puppy eyes.

Okay, now I can’t argue with him. I’m too busy imagining how perfectly he’d fit into my lap. How much I’d love to pull him into my chest. Or even reach around to the front of his jeans and distract him thoroughly, until neither of us can hear any noises from outside at all…

“Alph?” Ronan whispers, coming to a halt.

I stare at him in a daze. “Huh?”

Even if we close the door between us… this thing between us isn’t going to go away in a hurry. All it takes is one touch too many, and suddenly I can’t call up a single anecdote, or funny joke, or another way to deflect his attention. Carter’s right. I can’t keep Ronan at arm’s length forever.

It’s impossible to stick to my ground when it’s slipping under my feet like sand.

What do Ireallywant?

That’s an easy answer. Ever since I saw Ronan on Maple Island, the answer’s been the same. I want to grab him, pull him into me, and never let him go. And here he is, asking me to do exactly that.

“One night?” Ronan says, all soft and nervous and sincere.

“Yes.” My voice is hoarse to my own ears. “One night.”

This might be the first time in my life I’ve been so happy to say yes to something that’s so completely unknown—so unknowable, until we create it together.

Ronan’s smiling at me, not saying anything.

I finally remind myself to let go of his arm… but he just runs his hand down my arm until he reaches my hand. His soft,delicate palm slides over my callouses until he finally slips his fingers in the spaces between mine.

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