Page 155 of Edge of Unbroken

“No,” he says ruefully. “Does this bother you?” he asks, worry in his voice.

“Not really,” I say and shrug. “It’s a part of your story. I care that you always used protection and that you’re with me now.”

“And both of those things are true.”

“So, is there a place you’ve always wanted to have sex but haven’t yet?”

He gives me my favorite sexy half smile. It still makes my head go all mushy. “Well, I had never thought about it before you brought it up, but the hood of my car sounds like a pretty good place, honestly,” he says, his voice low.

“Oh, yeah?” I giggle.

He nods. “Yeah.”

The sound of voices travels up through Ronan’s window, and we sit up abruptly.

“Oh shit, they’re back,” he says at exactly the moment I hear the front door open downstairs. We clamber out of his bed and get dressed.

“Where’s my underwear,” I whisper, looking around his room.

Ronan chuckles. “The bathroom, remember?” He retrieves it. “Are you sure you need to put these back on, though?”

“You’d have a hard time keeping a straight head if you knew I wasn’t wearing underwear the rest of the evening,” I giggle, already stepping into my jeans.

He nods. “One hundred percent, but I’d be willing to give it a really solid try.”

I pull my shirt on, then escape into the bathroom where I fuss with my messy, damp hair. “Oh man, there’s no way they’re not going to notice my hair is wet.”

“So, just tell them you took a shower,” Ronan says, appearing behind me and putting his hands on my hips. He’s still not wearing a shirt. “We don’t have to tell them I was in there with you.” He grins.

“Right, because they won’t put two and two together, especially with you refusing to put a shirt on.”

He chuckles. “Here’s the plan. I’ll put on a shirt, head downstairs, and let them know you’re in the bathroom. You can decide what you want to tell them about why your hair is sexy and wet, and I’ll go with whatever you say. I’ve skirted dangerous situations all my life, I can handle a little shower lie.” He winks at me and walks out of the bathroom.

I mess with my hair a while longer, combing my hands roughly through the damp strands, then simply gather it atop my head and wind it into a messy bun. It satisfactorily hides the fact that my hair is not completely dry.

I make my way downstairs, where Ronan immediately locks eyes with me, a grin tugging so hard on his lips that he has to turn away from his dad, Penny, and my mom so as not to give himself—or us—away. I blush like an idiot, but steadily make my way into the kitchen where Ronan is retrieving a couple of plates. Frank is leaning against the counter and my mom and Penny are sitting at the small table with a bag of takeout between them.

“We brought you back some Italian,” Penny chirps, her voice bright, and my mom smiles at me.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on this one,” Frank says and nods in Ronan’s direction.

“Yeah, thanks for keepingan eye on me, babe,” Ronan says, his voice neutral, but his eyes are anything but as his gaze flits to my lips and immediately darkens with lust.

I give him a tiny shake of my head and press my lips together, warning him, but he only chuckles under his breath. He turns to grab some utensils from the drawer before reaching for the bag of takeout, then beckons me to come and eat with him.

Monday, April 18th

Ronan

I don’t think I can do this.

It’s a quarter past seven in the morning. My dad, Steve, and Penny are downstairs, ready to head to the car to drive to the courthouse where I’ll be required to face my mother for the first time since she almost killed me.

We were about to head out the door when I felt the bile rise in my throat and I made up some quick excuse for needing to go back upstairs. And now I’m here on the bathroom floor, having just thrown up the little bit of water I was able to get down this morning. My skin is clammy and the anxiety clawing at my chest makes it feel as though someone is sitting on my rib cage.

Fuck, I can’t do this. Is running away an option? Maybe some kind of witness protection program? All I want is to disappear into thin air.I can’t do this.I kneel on the tile floor, my forehead resting on my arms draped over the cool porcelain toilet bowl. And I try to breathe. In five seconds, hold it five seconds, out five seconds.

Repeat.

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