Page 45 of Stranded

Ronan hums thoughtfully. “Okay. What can’t you do?”

“Distract you,” I tell him. “Get in the way.” Before he can protest, I hold up my hand, asking for a chance to explain. “You have the opportunity of a lifetime—your whole future ahead of you. It all rests on the next couple of months. I’d never forgive myself for getting in the way of that.” I squeeze his hand. “Ever.”

Ronan bites his lip. “But… you wouldn’t be in the way.”

Oh, Ronan.

If there’s one thing that defines Ronan at his best… I think that’s it. Hope. It’s one of the reasons I like him so much. But I can’t let it cloud my judgment.

“I won’t be,” I promise.

Ronan glances at me as I let go of him to hold the gate open for us both. Then he does a double-take, like he’s realizing what I actually mean, and slowly walks through it.

I follow after him, and then I take his hand again to lead him up the porch stairs, my heart aching.

It’s not going to be easy.

But I don’t do the easy thing. I do the thing that’s right—and I can’t even make myself do anything else. And what’s right is making sure that Ronan has the time, the space, and theunbroken heart he needs to create the best work he’s ever made.

I just don’t know what that means for us… right now.

As we step inside, I set down the picnic bag. We kick our shoes off at the same moment, and then Ronan takes me by the hand and leads me upstairs. When we get to the top of the stairs, he stops.

Ronan turns to face me, and he takes my other hand, gazing up. “So… whatdoyou want?”

I stare at him, not quite sure how the answer isn’t already obvious. My whole body aches with it.

You.

Ronan chuckles and shakes his head. “Let me rephrase that. What would make you freak out less than you are right now?”

“Oh.”

Thank god he didn’t ask what I’m worrying about, or we’d be here all night. The list is so long that there’s an abridged edition. It’s got an index at the back. In hardback, it could knock a man unconscious in a single swing.

But if I had to pick the top worries, that’s actually easy.

“I want to know what you’re expecting.”

Ronan smiles again. He tilts his face up at me. “Nothing,” he says, and I can see the sincerity all over his face. “Iwant, yes. I hope. I fantasize, while jerking off in the shower…”

Oh… my…god.

I’ve spent the week hopelessly distracted by Ronan. Now that I know he’s been jerking off to the thought of me, too… the sound of the shower is going to dosomany things to me. Already, I’m hard again. Painfully so.

All I can see is Ronan naked under the water, one hand wrapped around himself as he tilts his head back and moans…

Ronan stretches up on his tiptoes and presses a kiss on the dip between my collarbones. Then he settles onto his feet again. “But I don’texpectanything. Tonight or ever. Just you, as you are… doing whatyouwant to do, for a change.”

I’m hanging onto his every word, nodding along.

Ronan pauses and squints at me. “For tonight, can you let yourself do that? Stop worrying about me?”

I lick my lips. “I will. As much as I can.”

“Good.” Ronan squeezes my hands. “Take what you want from me. Trust me, I want it too—every bit as bad as you do.”

“Good,” I echo him. “And there’s one more thing. What happens after tonight?”

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