Page 13 of Dearest Ronan

He doesn’t listen. “My mom’s not doing so hot.”

Shit.

Maury’s eye shine with unshed tears, and I feel his pain. Not for myself, but for what Anika went through. She lost both parents in a tragic car crash. When she first came to Carolyn and me, she spent many nights alone in her room.

“Sorry, bro. Is it serious?”

He nods his head a fraction of an inch, like he’s too afraid to speak his fear into existence. “Cancer.”

I don’t know what to say. Ma happily retired in Montana when she turned sixty-five. I call her every Sunday and visit her at least once a year during Christmas. Given my lack of personal loss, Maury wouldn’t appreciate me bringing up my healthy ma.

Instead, I muster all the empathy I have to awkwardly pat his shoulder like he’s a dog. Best boss ever. Thankfully, it’s enough for Maury, because he softly smiles. “Thanks. I’m just trying to be there for her. She won’t live forever, you know?”

I’m not a therapist, but I’m also not a complete dickhole. “That’s rough. Sorry to hear about your mom. If you ever need to relax, I have a backyard oasis at my soon-to-be-ex-wife’s home. As long as she’s out of town, you’re more than welcome to use it.”

There, I’m a great guy. It’s still my house until our divorce, so if my coworker wants to use our shared property, I say go for it.

While I realize that swimming in my pool won’t make up for his mom struggling with cancer, Maury appreciates the sentiment. “Thanks. Might take you up on that sometime.”

See? I can keep my shit together enough to help a friend.

My intentions are good. I’m not sure how it translates to my relationship with Anika, but it does.

I’m about to go back to work when Maury points behind me. “You know her?”

My stomach drops before I even turn around. Assuming it’s Carolyn, I wince at the direction he points. But rather than spotting a woman with sleek blonde hair and legs for days, I’m staring at wild curls and Anika’s beautiful smile.

I can’t help it. My grimace turns into an uneasy, lopsided grin. Warmth spreads down my neck, settling into my chest. My butterfly makes me happy. I know it’s wrong, but she does.

I feel like a prepubescent boy trying to hide how he held hands with his middle-school girlfriend in the cafeteria. Who’s the adult here? Right now, not me.

Maury licks his bottom lip, making me want to shatter his jaw at his blatant perusal of Anika’s body. “Who’s that?” I don’t want him looking at her, but I also can’t tell him the complete truth.

“It’s complicated,” I say. But, just as the words blurt from my mouth, I realize that sayingit’s complicatedimplies that I’m sleeping with a woman who only just left her teenage years. So, like a complete idiot, I blurt, “By complicated I mean she’s kind-of my daughter.” Great, because not only did I clear things up, but I also made myself feel a fuck-ton-better about the whole situation.

Insert eye-roll here. I should have just grunted.

Anika glides toward me in an ethereal white dress, each step a dance of joy. It’s crazy how my pulse races when I’m near her. It’s an experience I haven’t felt since Carol and I used to drink at Pappy’s bar before class.

When did my feelings for Anika change?

It’s hard to describe. The second our eyes met through the steam of the shower yesterday, it’s like a buzzing entered my limbs and has yet to leave. Every beat of my pulse screams: she’s the one. How could you have not noticed before?

Subconsciously, I recognized it earlier, which is why I persistently messaged her for years, enduring her consistent ghosting.

Rather than elaborate further, I meet Anika on the pier. Her hazel eyes peer up at me through thick lashes.

I don’t want these sweaty, sexually frustrated men staring at her for even a second longer. Taking her hand in mine, I tug her off the dock, down the rocky shoreline, and subsequently dragging her underneath the pier. Water laps at her bare legs.

Waves crash against the shoreline and pillars, ensuring that no one can hear us down here. Sunlight streams through the thin cracks of wood above us, highlighting Anika’s stray curls like a halo.

“Ronan, you’re going to get wet,” she exclaims. I don’t bother looking down. The chilly waters send goosebumps on my legs, and my brown work boots are absolutely soaked, but it’s better than those assholes staring at what’s mine.

Sure, I’m a pervert defiling my Anika, but I’ll do so while avoiding judgmental, horny eyes. Thank you.

I wave my hand dismissively. “It’s fine. Is everything okay?” I’m worried that something’s wrong for her to come down to my work without notice.

She gnaws on her bottom lip. Fixated, I watch the plumpness turn a deeper red as blood rushes to the area. Meanwhile, my own heads straight to my cock. I seriously hope I don’t have to do much thinking in the next few minutes because I don’t think I have blood or oxygen to string together more than a few words.

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