Page 44 of Not Another Yesterday
“Alright, I can tell I’m not convincing you, so I’ll head back out. I’m meeting my dad for tapas. But seriously, Cat, it’s okay to ruffle feathers sometimes. You won’t know the outcome until you do. So please, ask Ran for a key.”
Then she’s gone, and I’m left alone in the stillness of the apartment. Everything’s quiet.
Too quiet.
***
I’m on the sofa, trying to think of the best order in which to broach what I consider to be the uncomfortable subjects with Ronan once he’s back. Should I ask about the key first and then Rashana? Or the other way around? Or just pick one and save the other for another day?
When I hear Ronan’s key in the lock, I get up and meet him in the hallway as he walks in. His face illuminates with a beautiful smile the moment his eyes find me. He drops his backpack to the floor, then pulls me into his arms. His body is firm but warm, and I bury my face in his jacket, inhaling his clean, familiar scent. Ronan smells like home, like comfort, like love.God, I never want to lose that.
He mimics me, his face in my hair, taking a deep inhale before he exhales with a soft, sated groan. “Hey baby.”
“Hi sweet boy,” I say without moving my head from his shoulder. This right here—Ronan’s arms wrapped tightly around me, the feel of his body, his scent, his warmth—is exactly what I needed. It doesn’t matter that he was only gone for two days. It may as well have been two years; the ache was the same. I’m convinced it was his sudden departure that caused my insecurities to rattle around my brain these past couple of days, because it all suddenly feels so much less significant. Miranda, Rashana, stupid keys. Who cares. He’s here. He's mine. He loves me.
“How was your drive?” I ask, taking a small step back without breaking physical contact. I just want to be able to look into his face.That smile on his soft, full lips hasn’t vanished, and his beautiful green eyes are bright and happy.
“Long as hell. I tried to stop as little as possible. I wanted to come home to you.” He tugs me close to him again, unwilling to allow even the smallest bit of space between our bodies. His words make my heart flutter. “I feel gross, though.” He shifts slightly as though suddenly feeling uncomfortable in his own skin.
I grin. “How about you take a quick shower,” I purr, “and then we can pretend to watch something while I climb on top of you?”
A low groan emanates from Ronan’s chest. “I like the sound of that, but I’d like it even more if you suggestedwetake a quick shower.”
I giggle. “Smooth. Real smooth, sweet boy.”
“All I heard was ‘yes.’ Unless you actually mean ‘no,’ then of course I’ll respect that,” Ronan says and releases me from his hold. He takes his backpack, then motions for me to lead the way into his bedroom.
I take a seat on his bed and open my food delivery app while Ronan pulls some clothes out of his backpack and deposits them in his hamper. “What are you feeling?” I ask him, scouring the restaurant options.
Ronan hangs his jacket on a hanger in his cramped closet. “How about Thai?”
I smile. He knows Thai food is my favorite. That and barbeque.
“The usual?” I ask, already selecting the small restaurant four blocks west from here, then quickly add our favorite dishes to the cart for delivery.
Ronan nods. “The usual. I’m going to start the shower,” he says with a smirk and a wink. My body is already heating in anticipation.
I hurriedly finish ordering the food. Delivery time is an estimated thirty minutes—plenty of time to have a littlesnackbefore dinner—then toss my phone onto Ronan’s bed. I can already hear the water running in the shower. I pull off my oversized knit sweater anddrop it on the bed, heat blooming deep in my core. T-minus too many seconds until I’m naked, wet, and pressed up against him.
But before I can get too excited, my gaze lands on his desk. His phone lights up, buzzing against the wood. And the name on the screen sends my pulse skittering.
Miranda.
Guess she really is back in his life. Suddenly, it feels significant again.
I take the phone, the vibrations traveling up my forearm as if tiny bugs are crawling beneath my skin, and walk into the bathroom. Ronan is already half-undressed, shirtless—and perfect; always so perfect—his jeans unbuttoned and hanging loosely on his hips, giving me the perfect view of his beautiful chest, those abs, and that delicious V leading to his manhood. I just learned in my biology class that there’s an actual term for the muscle group in his lower abs, the grooves that run diagonally from his hip bones to his… groin. It’s the Adonis belt, and I’d say that’s a pretty damn perfect term. I salivate every time I see it, my fingers itching with desire to trace it. It’s enough to temporarily distract me from the phone buzzing excitedly in my hand. That’s until Ronan turns to me with a smile and his eyes move to his phone.
I hold it out to him. “Your phone,” I say, even though it’s completely unnecessary.
“Who is it?” he asks, already reaching for it.
I don’t respond, watching instead as recognition flashes in his eyes and his lips tug into a small smile. I don’t think his smile is as big as the one he gave me when he saw me walking into the bathroom five seconds ago. Or is it? Does he seem excited? I find myself listening intently to the pitch of his voice as he holds the phone to his ear.
“Hey Randi! I take it you made it?” His lips curl into something soft.
Just hearing her name makes my heart twist.
Ronan moves around and past me. “Get under the shower. I’ll be right there,” he whispers to me, gives me a quick kiss against my temple, then leaves, closing the bathroom door behind him.
