Page 45 of Release Me

It’s almosttwo in the morning when commotion stirs in the living room and female laughter carries. I sit up to listen intently.

Plural female laughter. Ronan’s courtesy must have run out. He’s brought someone home the same day I gave him a blow job in our bathroom.

I flop back into bed, disappointment overwhelming me. It’s followed closely by anger, at Ronan, but mostly at myself for allowing our little charade to continue. I’m not programmed for casual sex. I can’t do it, even with a guy I have no interest in hanging out with outside of what we do in bed.

My pulse hammers in my ears as I lie in the dark, listening to the floor creak in the hallway, his door opening.

Waiting for the inevitable bed-frame thumping to begin.

I stiffen when my bedroom door swings open instead. For a split second, I think it’s another directionally challenged naked drunk girl, but the brief stream of light allows me a glimpse of a naked Ronan instead.

He shuts the door behind him. A moment later, the sheets shift and pull, and then he’s lying down beside me, heatradiating off his body. “I know you’re awake,” he whispers, the sound of his voice stirring my blood. His breath—a mixture of toothpaste and a sweet liquor and tobacco—skates over my face.

“How?”

His hand slides between my legs, his fingers slipping under my panties. “Because you’ve been lying in bed for hours, wondering what I’m doing at the bar, waiting for me to come home.” His finger draws along my slit. “Thinking about me.”

Ihavebeen doing that.

But now I shove his hand away. “Don’t you have someone waiting for you?”

“What?” I can hear the frown in his voice even if I can’t see it.

“I heard more than one woman come in.”

“You’re right. There are two, and they’re with your brother.”

“Bothof them?”

I sense his smile. “Both of them.”

“Oh.” Relief overwhelms me even as I try to block out that visual.

Ronan’s hand slips back, this time peeling my panties down past my knees.

I lift my legs until they fall to my ankles and I can shake them off.

“You thought I’d bring someone else home while we’re doing this?” he asks, the soft pad of his thumb finding my clit to draw teasing circles.

“Well … yeah. You said only the one night.”

He chuckles. “Obviously we’re not following that rule.”

“What changed?”

There’s a long pause as if he’s considering his words. “I don’t enjoy picking up girls at the bar.”

I can’t help but laugh. “I heard how much you enjoyed Sherrie, remember?”

“The part where I came, sure,” he corrects with a dark chuckle. “But it’s all pointless, impersonal. And it didn’t make me feel better about Tasha leaving me.” His breath skates over my cheek. “You don’t feel pointless or impersonal. And even though this is just for now, I feel better when I’m with you.” He pauses. “Is that wrong?”

My God, how did I not realize before that I’m not the only one needing a confidence boost? “No, I get it. You’re still in love with someone else.” My heart pangs in my chest with a rare glimpse at Ronan’s pain. He seems so lost. “And here I thought you were just another cocky asshole taking advantage of a vulnerable girl.”

“Iama cocky asshole. But I’m not a dick, and I don’t fuck over friends.”

“Is that what we are? Friends?”

“Aren’t we?”

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