Page 18 of Not Another Yesterday
I was so rattled by the things she said, and so were Steve, Frank, and Penny. Ronan, being who he is, bolted as soon as his grandmother left. He did what he always does when faced with anything about his past—he runs from it, too afraid, too traumatized to sit with it. I wish he’d talk to me. I wish he’d trust me with the thoughts in his head. Haven’t I earned that by now?
My dad had the wherewithal to take my younger siblings to my grandparents’ house for a few hours while my mom cooked and I cleaned. It certainly helped my mom’s stress levels. When two o’clock rolls around and my dad returns with my siblings and his parents in tow, my mom cheerfully greets them.
My mom’s parents show up half an hour later, and Frank, Penny, and Steve join us a mere ten minutes after that.
“Where’s Ran?” I ask Steve after he introduces himself to my grandparents and comments on how incredible my mom’s food smells. She turned beet red at the compliment. That’s definitely a characteristic I get from her; I blush like nobody’s business. I’d always hated it until I met Ronan, who always tells me how much he loves how easily I blush. It’s incredible how you can hate something about yourself, and then the right person comes along, calls it lovely, and suddenly it’s not so bad anymore.
“He’s on his way.” Steve lowers his voice. “Did you get a chance to talk to him about… yesterday?”
“Just briefly at Murphy’s. He said he was ‘fine,’” I say, and frown.
Steve sighs. “Ah, shit.”
“Yeah, I know. I told him I needed an honest answer, and he said he hadn’t had a chance to process everything. But he said he really was okay at the moment, so I left it at that. I figure there’s no point in pushing him. He’ll either talk about it or he won’t. It’s so frustrating, Stevie.” I groan. “Why doesn’t he trust me?”
Steve just shakes his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think it has anything to do with trust. And he probably really hasn’t had a chance to process everything. I’m honestly not even really sure what the hell the point of her visit was…”
“To apologize.”
“That’s what she said, but did you hear an apology in there?”
I let my mind return to yesterday’s conversation and realize Steve’s right. All Mrs. Donahue did was give a speech about why her daughter did what she did and why she should be forgiven. In a way, it felt like Mrs. Donahue was seeking forgiveness, too. No wonder it left such a bad taste in my mouth. Now I understand why I felt so put off. All she really did was unburden herself. She didn’t offer Ronan any comfort, or a way forward. She came, she dumped, she left.
I shake my head.
“He’s been doing better, though, so let’s just give him some time,” Steve says, just as there’s a knock on the front door.
My heart trips over itself when I open the door for Ronan. Of course, that guy is gorgeous as ever. The two-day-old stubble on his chin and cheeks is rough against my palms when I put my hands on his face, pull him down to me, and kiss him deeply. That elicits a quiet moan from him, and I pull back to look into his bright green eyes.
“Hi, baby,” he says, his voice husky. For one suspended second, everything stops—my mom’s chaos, the tension in my chest, even the questions I’d planned to ask.
“Hey, sweet boy.” I smile and take a step back to allow him entrance to the house. “How are you?”
“A little tired, to be honest.” I’m grateful he doesn’t give me his usual deflection.
He shrugs off his jacket. I take it from him. “How was your workout this morning?”
“Good, but exhausting.” There are indeed dark shadows under his eyes. “I was hoping to squeeze in a nap before heading over here but the damn washer in our apartment building went out, so I had to take all my crap to the laundromat down the street.”
“You should have just brought it with you,” I say, tipping my head up to kiss his soft lips again.
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure your parents would’ve loved that.” He chuckles. “Hey, Bobby, mind if I throw my dirty boxers in your washer while I eat your wife’s food and then take your daughter home with me, where I will very likely ravage her hot body?”
I laugh at the image. Ronan takes my hand, pressing my palm to his mouth softly. “You’re so beautiful, Cat,” he says with such intensity, it turns my skin to fire.
“What just made you say that?” I ask, my voice an octave higher.
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I just had this overwhelming need to tell you. I love you so much, baby.”
I kiss him again, parting my lips, and giving Ronan permission to deepen the kiss. He does, sweeping his tongue slowly over mine as he lays claim to my mouth. The rest of my body responds instinctively and instantaneously, flooding me with moist heat that collects deep in my core.Oh, yep, I’m definitely going home with him tonight.
We reluctantly break apart, then I lead the way into the living room. Ronan politely greets my mom—who hugs Ronan tightly—then my dad, whose reception of him is much less heartfelt. Then Ronan introduces himself to my grandparents, all four of whom smile warmly at him. He looks so handsome in a pair of light-blue jeans and a gray crew neck sweater.
“Hey buddy,” Frank says to his youngest son with a meaningful look. “You alright?”
“Yeah, fine,” Ronan says with a nod. His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. I exchange a brief glance with Steve before my grandparents engage the Soult guys in conversation.
We gather at the table an hour later. After my grandfather insists on saying grace, we dig into the food.
