Page 144 of Not Another Yesterday
“Great, I’ll be right back with those. Want me to let Ran know you’re here, or do you want to spy on him first?” he asks with a grin.
“Oh, I’d love to spy on him,” Saoirse says with a mischievous smile.
“I see where Ran gets it from,” Shane laughs as he heads off to the bar.
Saoirse sighs as she lowers herself into her seat. “I wish Ran had taken the evening off to spend it with us. It’s his birthday.”
“Yeah, me too,” I say. “Shane offered, but Ran was adamant about working. He’s really worried about money right now. I hate that he’s working so much more. It’s only been a couple of weeks and I can already see how exhausted he is—especially now that summer classes have started.”
Frank’s brow furrows like this is news to him. “What do you meanmore? How much more is he working?”
“Uh… I think he picked up about twenty extra hours a week,” I say, sheepishly. Guilt coils in my chest. I know he’s burning the candle at both ends—because of me. Because I’m pregnant.
It’s not like I haven’t stepped up. I’m in my mom’s office every day, putting every penny I earn into savings for baby stuff. But it’s nothing compared to what Ronan’s pulling in. When I told him how shitty that made me feel a few days ago, he wrapped me into his arms and said, “Baby, you’re growing a whole-ass human. The least I can do is work a little more.”
“Well, I’d say that’s a sacrifice he’ll have to make,” my dad says. “That’s the price you pay when you bring a child into this world at his age.”
And there it is again—my dad putting all the weight on Ronan’s shoulders. Like this isn’t my baby too. Like I didn’t choose this just as much as he did.
“We know that, Dad,” I snap.
Saoirse doesn’t look pleased. “So how much is he working now?”
“Sixty hours,” I say.
“A week? Plus school?” she asks, stunned.
I nod.
The sharp look she gives Frank could cut glass. “Frankie, I expect you to have a chat with your son. This isn’t sustainable. It’s your duty to support him—not just emotionally, but financially. Just like we did for you.”
“Mom, of course I’ll help with whatever they need,” Frank says, jaw clenched. “But Ran… he doesn’t accept my help.”
“That’s because he grew up never being able to ask for it,” Saoirse says, voice steady but firm. “And now he’s a man who won’t. But that doesn’t mean you’re powerless. He can still learn to count on you. It’ll just take work.”
“I’m open to suggestions,” Frank says, frustrated. “I have a hard enough time just getting him to respond to my texts, Mom. It’s not like I don’t try!”
“You need to get away with him,” Perry says, finally speaking. “Just the two of you. Somewhere quiet. Force the conversation. Ronan’s great at avoiding things—you’ve got to put him in a place where he can’t dodge it. Then you lay it all out. Be honest.”
“Yeah… maybe,” Frank murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck.
“And honestly, Frank,” my mom chimes in with a little laugh, “short of locking Ronan in a room with you, just keep showing up for him. Even when he ignores your calls, even when he won’t let you help. Keep showing up. Keep doing the shadow work. He’ll learn thatyou’re not going anywhere.” She softens. “It’s a slow process. But if you’re consistent—if you’re gentle—he’ll start to believe you.”
I spot Ronan only a moment later and nod toward him as he delivers an overfull tray of food to a large table, then heads back behind the bar to chat with Jack. There’s a gorgeous smile on his lips and his shoulders are relaxed.
Then a petite blonde sidles up to the bar, clearly aiming to catch his attention. She twirls a piece of hair around her finger, hops up on the bar stool, and leans in way farther than necessary. She flashes Ronan a smile that’s all teeth and cleavage. I know the look. I’ve seen it a hundred times.
Something squirms in my chest, and this time I know it’snotmy little wiggle worm. It’s that dumb little fuzzy monster in my chest that occasionally wants to make me into a jealous girlfriend. But as quickly as it blinked its eyes open, it closes them again—because Ronan just listens politely to the girl, lifts a couple glasses onto his tray, then walks away. Doesn't even look back.
The blonde takes her drink from Jack and struts over to the table directly next to ours, joining four other girls already seated.
“We just got here and Kaylee is already on the prowl,” one of them snorts, nodding toward the bar.
“I’d let him wreck me,” Kaylee says in a breathy voice, her eyes trailing over Ronan’s body like she’s mentally undressing him. “God, justlookingat him gets me wet.”
“I’d take a turn,” another girl says, sipping her drink like it’s a secret. “Or maybe we could share.”
I get it. I do. Ronan is stupid hot, which may or may not have been the reason I was late to my mom’s office this morning. As if I needed another reason to be utterly attracted to and turned on by him, my hormones are somehow only amplifying everything.
