Page 27 of Ronan
Still smiling, she disappears into my room and comes back with one of my pillows, propping it up against my thigh. I don’t want to think about the butterflies it gives me when she lays back down, fingers splayed over my leg and head resting so close to me.
I don’t want to think about the twitch in my fingers with the desire to run them through her hair and touch her as much as I can while I have her here, so I search inside for some inner strength and try to relax. This is her favorite movie, and for once in my life, I don’t have to worry about what she’s up to or who she’s with. She’s here, she’s safe, and maybe it’s time I allow myself to just enjoy it.
I’ll snatch her phone’s location once she falls asleep.
12
The bitter winter air was rough when I left Ronan’s around four am, and it’s no better now. I swear our furnace is on its last legs, barely able to keep up with the dropping temps — but I couldn’t stay at my brother’s any longer. I woke up with my hand gripping his. If he’d woken up first and saw that, what would he say? What kind of person does it make me that I had sex with a stranger earlier in the day then ran into the arms of my step-brother?
Probably no better than Nightbreed, who hides his identity while using and stalking me.
Enough is enough. I need answers, so after pacing my kitchen for two hours, I pick up my phone.
Me:How did you know where I live? Did you follow me home? And how would you know if I took a shower or not?
It only takes a couple of minutes for my phone to ring, and as I stare down at the stupid buzzing thing, I almost don’t answer. What could he possibly say to make me more comfortable about this?
“Hello?”
“Hi.” His voice is rougher than it usually is, and I don’t know what that means. “Did I freak you out last night?”
“A little bit,” I say quietly. “You know everything about me now, including where I live, and I wouldn’t recognize you if I hit you with my car.”
Night sighs. “I’ll answer your questions, but I need you to answer one first. Do you regret it?”
“That depends on how you answer my questions,” I retort. “Talk.”
“Fuck,” he whispers. It’s so low I know he pulled the phone away from his face to say it. “I didn’t want to worry you, but that truck stop was full of shady people, and I wasn’t the only one who noticed the pretty girl in a dress in the middle of winter. Someonefollowed you, so I followed them. They must have spotted me because they gave up, but I kept tailing you to be sure.”
All the way to my house.
Fuck.
Exhaling hard, I sit on the arm of our couch and contemplate how I feel about that. If it’s true, he was genuinely just trying to protect me. If it’s not, he’s a master level manipulator. I don’t remember seeing anyone following me, but then again, I wasn’t exactly paying attention. I was in the beginning stages of subdrop whether I knew it or not at the time.
“Oh.” It’s the only thing I can think to say, and I swear I feel him deflate right alongside me.
“Honestly, I thought you’d think the text was hot because of your fantasy, and I also felt a lot better knowing you got home safely. I would have gone about last night differently if... well if I had used my thinking head.”
As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. It was hot, or at least it would’ve been if I’d let myself enjoy it. “You’re right, it was. I guess I... didn’t handle the aftermath of the scene very well. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m the one that should be apologizing, Atley. For so many reasons. I think I need my Dom card revoked.”
He huffs a laugh, but there’s a sadness in it that makes me frown.
“I promise I’m not trying to be pushy, but I need you to answer one question for me. Will it always be like this?”
He’s quiet for a moment before he responds. “No. It can’t be. You’ll know who I am eventually, baby girl. Probably soon. I’m about to say something really lame, but I swear it’s not you, it’s me.”
“I know.” There’s a hint of bitchiness in my tone, but I won’t apologize for it. “Believe me, I know.”
“Do you?” he asks, frustration evident in his voice. “Because you seem to be taking this all really personally after I’ve told you that you’re perfect. I’m not saying that to get in your pants or some shit, I mean it. You’re something I want to hold onto for as long as I can. I’m selfish, I know that, but don’t think for one second I wouldn’t reveal everything right now if I knew without a shadow of a doubt that you’d stay.”
Again, I come back to the same question. What could possibly make me give this up other than the secrecy and lack of aftercare?He did great with the care package he left, but I shouldn’t have to run to Ronan and bother him every time I fuck this guy. “Okay, then how do I convince you?”
“I don’t know, time?” He releases a sigh. “Just don’t go anywhere yet. Let me figure this out in my head, and then I’ll show you who I am. Does that work? Or are you going to say the word that calls all this off?”
Maybe. I can’t do this forever, it’s only been a few days and I’m already feeling the strain. Some people may prefer this level of anonymity and personal space, but that’s not me. I need connection, contact. I need to know that while they may call me a fuck doll or whatever else, I mean more than that to them. It’s hard to convince myself that’s true with the way things are.
