Page 54 of Ronan

Inevitably, I get frustrated, and it’s when I’m seconds from grabbing a steel pipe and smashing the stupid panels that Ronan calmly leads me to the house. He parks me on the couch while he cooks dinner, and after we eat, we relax. Most nights I read, but there have been a few where the hours ticked away while we talked, locking ourselves inside the bedroom once the sun goes down.

This level of comfort, of safety and acceptance, is one I haven’t known since my mother died, and it’s terrifyingly intimate. We’re so incredibly different—our backgrounds, interests, and personalities worlds apart.

It shouldn’t work.

But now that I’ve stopped fighting this attraction between us…mostly… he’s become a constant in my life. Someone I want around, and not because he can offer me something. He isn’t shy with his affections… or his irritation. He’ll readily scold me for being a brat, unafraid to callme on my crap, but will just as quickly pull me into a hug and whisper how much he adores me.

So why can’t I move past this invisible barrier?

Why can’t I trust him with this piece of myself?

He meets my eyes with a smile, and I realize I’m staring, so I turn back to the mess of wires in front of me. Even someone with zero experience could’ve identified the problem with the solar panels. It doesn’t take a genius to understand that a device stripped of its parts won’t work, and the number of pieces missing was greater than the ones that remained. Wire had been hacked away and components removed, undoubtedly the ones made with bits of gold or silver that make an easy trade.

The remaining usable parts are enough to reconstruct a single panel—more than sufficient to power the house we’re inhabiting.

But I can’t get it to fucking work.

Even after everything is assembled, the control panel is unresponsive. I’ve double and triple-checked every connection, removed and reseated components, and traced countless feet of wires until my vision is blurry with the strain.

Just as I’m reconsidering the whole steel-pipe-to-the-electronics approach, I spot a break in a wire snaking up the metal support, rough around the edges like a squirrel or mouse chewed through it. The shadows hit it just right to make it almost invisible, and it was sheer luck I glanced up while the sun was on it.

The repair is complete with a few minutes on the ladder, and my heart pounds in a nervous rhythm as my finger hovers over the switch. A hum buzzes as the controlpanel lights flicker to life, and I whoop with delight, my fist slamming into the air in triumph.

“Yes!” I shout, running towards Ronan. “I fucking did it!” Without a second thought, I leap toward him, my momentum nearly knocking him off his feet as he grunts in surprise, scrambling to steady himself and catch me. The pressure of his powerful arms around me is comforting as my legs circle his waist, smiling like a fool and squeezing him tightly.

“I knew you would,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against my shoulder. The quiet confidence in his tone is more meaningful than any grand declaration.

He simply believed in me.

“You know what this means, right?” Amused curiosity lines his face as he leans back, raising a brow as he waits for me to continue. “Hot showers!” I toss my head and laugh, kicking my feet. “Oh, my gods, you might not see me for days!”

“You’ll be wrinkly.” He scrunches his nose at me as I meet his eyes, the ridiculous grin still on my lips.

“Better get used to it. I’ll be old and wrinkly long before you.” It’s meant to be teasing, but his smile falters as he stares at me, like the realization is just hitting him. “How old are you, anyway?” My tone is light, attempting to lift his spirits, but his expression stays unchanged—a distant, almost pained look in his eyes.

“One hundred and twelve.”

“Oh.”

A touch of sass returns to his face as he glares, always so skilled at catching my sarcasm. “What about you?”

“Twenty-six,” I answer, and for my sake, he tries to be aloof. Really, he does, and it means more to me than it should.

“I have armor older than you,” he teases, and I’m so relieved to see his smile, even if it’s tiny and fake, that I play along.

“And I have great-great-grandparents younger than you.” He snorts a quiet laugh that’s insincere, so I change topics. “What’s my prize for fixing the solar panels? There’s so much we can do now… hot showers…”

“You mentioned that.”

“… use the stove and the lights…”

“Too dangerous at night.”

I ignore him and his pessimistic attitude. “… and…” My eyes grow wide as he cocks a brow at me. “Oh, my gods… we can run the overhead fan, so it isn’t a hundred degrees. Tonight’s going to be the best night’s sleep I’ve ever gotten.”

He chuckles, carrying me as I hang onto him like a koala, daydreaming about all the modern conveniences I’ll experience for the first time in years. We get inside the garage, and he presses me against the wall, taking me by surprise with the intensity of his kiss.

His lips are insistent, and I melt into him, my hands moving to the back of his neck before one ventures into his hair. Those seams that are already pulling tight stretch further, the barely contained emotion strained and flexing underneath my skin as I give in to their insistent pull. He kisses me like he’s making up for lost time, and with a sense of urgency that hurts my heart. Too soon, he pulls away with a somber sigh he thinks I don’t catch, resting his forehead on mine.

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