Page 38 of Release Me

The doors open on the second floor, and he steps out, but pauses. “I’m in 255, if you’re ever need help. I’m an economics analyst, so it’s kinda my thing.”

“Oh, thanks. Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

He steps back, watching with a friendly smile as the elevator closes.

Sweat is still dripping down my cheeks as I plow through our front door. I’m praying that Ronan’s not home.

No such luck. They’re both loitering in the kitchen.

I duck my head, heading for the bathroom, intent on avoiding them until after I’ve showered and my face isn’t so red.

“Two runs in one day, sis?” Connor calls out. “You have some pent-up frustration you’re trying to burn?” There’s no missing the amusement in his voice.

I stumble a step. “What isthatsupposed to mean?” Oh my God. Did Ronan tell him?

“Nothing! Relax. Jeez. You need anything at the store?”

“Nope. Thanks.” I lock the bathroom door behind me and let my head fall back against it with a thud. Just one more week until Ronan’s gone to Alaska and I won’t have to see those piercing eyes, or watch those muscles move with that sexy swagger, or wonder who he might bring home next.

I inhale deeply. It smells like Ronan in here—like his minty shampoo and his soap. He must have had a shower while I was running.

One more week and I won’t have to smell him.

Unexpected disappointment twinges deep inside me with that thought, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. It’s the same reason I felt immense relief last night when I realized Ronan was alone. All he has to do is glance my way to make my pulse race.

The truth is … I want him again. That’s the real problem here. I let him screw me and now I want it again. He said only one night, and I want another night, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to him again.

Worse, he knows I want it, too, the bastard.

One more week.

Just one more week.

Starting the shower, I peel off my clothes and climb in, reveling in the hot water until it turns tepid, trying to not think about a naked Ronan in here.

All is quiet when I emerge, towel wrapped tightly around my body, my sweat-drenched clothes in my fist. The boys have left for the store.

Good.

The tension eases from my shoulders as I head for my room. I’ll get dressed, grab a bite to eat, then go to the library to study. By the time I come home, they’ll have gone out for the night.

I find Ronan stretched out on my bed.

It takes me a moment to gain my composure, to smooth my expression to one of disregard before I give him the reaction he’s fishing for. I toss my dirty clothes into my hamper. “I thought you were going to the store?”

His gaze crawls over me. “I never said I was going anywhere.”

My towel doesn’t feel secure enough, as if merely a look from him could pull it down. I resist the urge to fumble with it. “What do you want?”

He swings his legs off the edge of the bed and pulls himself up to sit. “Seems I’m missing something important from my room.”

I turn my back to him and begin shuffling through mydresser for clothes. I’m assuming he’s talking about his condoms. “Oh yeah? When did you notice it missing?”

My bed creaks as he stands. “Last night.” Suddenly, Ronan’s directly behind me, his strong frame looming. “When I was going to come in here to see you.”

My fumbling hands freeze. He was going to come in here last night? That means he would have been going for a condom.

That means he wanted sex again.

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