Page 14 of Kick Out of It

Nora

Will you please send on whatever message you were writing?

I’m worse than Lucas! I swiftly type out a reply.

It’s late, so I figured you wouldn’t want to chat until tomorrow.

It was great seeing you today.

Same. How are you holding up?

I’m grand. Want to grab a pint?

Isn’t it past your bedtime?

Mum said I could stay up late since I worked so hard today.

Fuck! Was that weird?

Yes, it was. So fucking weird. Thankfully, she ignored my ridiculous comment, but she also ignored my invite.

You deserve it. You played well today. Even missing that goal that you could’ve made with your eyes closed.

Can I pop by for a bit?

Depends.

On what?

Are you going to behave yourself?

No.

Send me your address.

Send me yours.

CHAPTER 6

NORA

What the hell am I doing?

The taxi pulls up to Ronan’s building and I have half a mind to ask the driver to take me back home. The whole ride, I reminded myself that we’re just going to talk. Since my sister, Lettie, is staying over, it would’ve been safer for him to come to my flat—she’d be a human chastity belt.

Taking a deep breath, I type in the predictable three-digit code he gave me to let myself up. The building is new, at most a year old, has high ceilings, and still smells of fresh paint. It’s sterile, void of any life, but there’s beauty in the coldness. I’m dressed casually, wearing tight dark blue jeans and a black form-fitted tee—severely underdressed based on how sleek this building is.

I raise my fist to knock, half expecting a butler to open the door. Rapping my knuckles twice, it opens and it’s so much worse than a butler. Ronan stands before me wearing nothing but a pair of light grey joggers, riding low enough on his hips to expose an inch of his black boxer briefs.

My lips part in surprise as my gaze lands on his perfectly sculpted stomach, and a small whimper escapes me. “Fuck.”

“‘Fuck’ is right, Nora. You asked if I would behave, but you show up lookin’ this? And I’m supposed to keep my hands to myself?” He rakes his hand through his hair, the small movement pulling my eyes to meet his bright green ones.

I blink once, twice, and I can’t stop my heart from racing. It finally registers what he said and I bark out an unattractive laugh. Tugging at my top, I dare ask, “Am I underdressed? You’re the one answering your door shirtless.” I gesture up and down his torso, which is a huge mistake; I can’t stop staring. He has those lines that run from the top of his him down to his?—

“Are you fucking kidding? You’re gorgeous, Nora. I thought I had more time to get dressed, though. Come in, I’ll grab a shirt.” Ronan opens the door wider, nodding into the flat for me to enter, but my feet refuse to move. “Should probably get two.”

“Two?”

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