RONAN

by Nina West

  Connor must be thinking the same thing. “Don’t you ever get sick of eating the same lunch every single day?”

  “No.”

  “But don’t you ever want to just order a big, greasy burger?”

  “No. I can’t eat like that. I’d blow up like a balloon.” She glances at the messy remnants of his pizza sub sitting on his lap. “Do you realize how bad it is for you? It’s full of fat and salt and preservatives.”

  Connor lifts his shirt up and smooths his hand over his belly, as hard and sculpted as mine. “Does it look like it matters to me?”

  She rolls her eyes. “You need to start eating better.”

  “You cook and I’ll eat better.”

  “As if I’m gonna cook for you. It’s bad enough I have to clean the bathroom after him.”

  “Well, you won’t have much to clean today, what with my two-minute cold shower and all,” I remind her dryly.

  I think I catch the hint of a smile curling her lips. It’s wiped off quickly as the door creaks open and her ex strolls out.

  His eyes skim over the area. They pause on the bench where the three of us sit, widening slightly—I can almost hear the curse in his head—and then he quickly averts his gaze to where his new girl sits.

  “Hey, David!” Connor hollers, waving at him. Beside him, Ryan lets out a tiny noise of mortification. “How was the rest of your night on Friday?”

  “Fine.” David’s shoulders sink in a little as he heads for the other table.

  Connor watches them for a long moment, perfecting a menacing stare I didn’t think he could pull off. “I should nail her just to piss him off. What do you think, Ry?”

  “I think I’m going to finish my lunch inside.” Ryan is collecting her food from her lap.

  “No. Stay.” I settle my hand on her leg, just above her knee, before she has a chance to stand. “Make him think you don’t care.”

  Her body tenses in response. To my touch or my words, I can’t say. Probably both. “You don’t get it.”

  “Don’t I?” I study her profile in the noon sunlight. She has such smooth-looking skin, not a scar or a pimple in sight. And for someone who doesn’t wear an ounce of makeup, her face is actually a lot prettier than I first realized, in a more wholesome way.

  I know exactly what she feels like. Three weeks after Tasha and I broke up, I was sitting in a bar with my friends when she walked in with a guy. I had three choices: leave, pick up a chick, or start a fight.

  My knuckles took a while to heal.

  “If you get up and go, you look like a heartbroken little girl who’s running into the bathroom to cry. Is that what you want?”

  She shakes off my hand from her knee. “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. You want to look like the woman who doesn’t give a shit and has moved on already.” That’s what this bitchiness is, I’m guessing—a shield. Unfortunately, she doesn’t know how to wield it properly. Everyone gets the brunt of it.

  “He’s right. Just sit here between the two of us and eat your weird bread, and pretend you don’t care.” Connor stretches his legs out and, leaning back into the bench, closes his eyes.

  Ryan shifts her focus to her yogurt, peeling the foil lid off. “You guys saw him on Friday night?” she asks quietly.

  “Yeah.”

  “So, you knew about her?”

  I can see Ryan replaying our conversation that night, when I brought up her honorable accountant. “Yeah.”

  Her jaw clenches. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I figured you were angry enough. And you’d hear about it soon.”

  “Do you think....” Her voice drifts off.

  “That he was with her before you broke up?”

  She peers up at me, blinking repeatedly. I don’t need to say it out loud, she’s figured it out.

  “This is humiliating. I’m such a fool,” she whispers under her breath, just loud enough for us to hear.

  “Forget about that loser. He doesn’t deserve you.”

  “I’m trying. It’s not easy.”

  “So find a fuck buddy,” Connor drawls lazily. “It’ll make it easier.”

  She scowls at him. “Great brotherly advice.”

  He shrugs. “What? You know, everyone thinks you’re banging Ronan. You may as well start.”

  “No, they don’t.” Her panicked hazel eyes land on me, studying me.

  “Am I lying, Ronan?”

  I stretch my arm along the back of the bench and start twirling the ends of Ryan’s brunette hair through my fingertips. It’s a lot silkier than I expected it to be. “I wouldn’t say everyone thinks that. Not yet, anyway.”

  “Bullshit.” She shifts her head away, making me lose my grip.

  I simply find another strand and continue toying. “What did you expect? We live together. You’ve seen me naked—”

  “Because you flashed me.”

  “Great foreplay, by the way,” Connor murmurs. “Good job, man.”

  “And everyone knows what those dirty crew guys are like,” I mock. “And yet here you are, eating lunch with us. You came out to us.”

  “To Ronan,” Connor interrupts, egging her on. “A lot of red flags, if you ask me. Everyone’s gonna be talking.”

  Ryan’s cheeks begin to flame. “This is payback for the shower this morning, isn’t it?”

  I steal her apple right off her lap and take a big bite. “And I’m going to enjoy every damn second of it.”

  Chapter 6

  “What is that smell?” Connor murmurs, stepping through the front door.

  “You.” We just finished playing Frisbee tag with Connor’s league and we’re drenched with sweat.

  “No, man. That’s food smell.” He inhales deeply. “It smells fucking delicious!”

  He’s right. Our condo smells like someone’s been baking.

  A rack of muffins sits in the middle of the island, still warm from the oven. A note next to it reads, “Eat better.”

  “Has hell frozen over?” Connor asks, confusion over his face.

  “They must be laced with arsenic.” I glance down the hall. Ryan’s door is closed but the light peeks through the crack. She must have come home from class and baked them right away.

  “That or ex-lax.”

  “She has to share a bathroom with me though, remember.”

  “Fair point. Definitely arsenic, then.” We stare at the pan of muffins for another ten seconds.

  “Fuck it. I’ve led a good life.” Connor takes one and shoves it into his mouth. A deep frown furrows his brow as he moans and gives the thumbs-up.

  We each polish off three before we part ways. I head straight for the bathroom, intent on taking that long, hot shower I didn’t get this morning.

  I can see the hint of bare feet standing on the other side of Ryan’s door.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  I’ve just stepped out of the Wolf employee restroom, my pants barely done up, when Connor grabs my arm and starts tugging me down the hall. “Come on.”

  “Fuck. I get it! You’re hungry! Relax already.” I jerk my arm from his grip.

  “Baker just found out that his mother has cancer.”

  “That sucks. And?” Not to be insensitive, but I don’t know the guy.

  “He’s bailing on Alaska. So you’re taking his spot.”

  “What?”

  “Just keep paying rent on your room here and you’ll have it back when we come home.”

  “But—”

  “Dude, trust me. This is gonna be a summer you never forget. I heard this is a big gamble that Wolf is taking, opening a seasonal hotel up there. No one thinks he can pull it off. Do you know what that means?”

  “No?”

  Connor pauses his mad dash down the hall to meet my gaze. “It means he’s going to bring up the hottest fucking chicks you’ve ever seen in your life to work there. He’s all about image. Hottest chicks in cabins, all summer long. And us.”

  “Okay, you’re beginning to sell this
idea to me. But I doubt they’re going to let me and Baker swap. I just got here. Life just doesn’t work like that.”

  Connor grins. “Wanna bet?”

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Ryan is at the counter when we step through the door, helping one of the Housekeeping staff, a polite smile touching her lips. It’s not exactly genuine, but it’s nice to see all the same. I was beginning to think her lips couldn’t curve upward.

  Her hazel eyes flicker to us. They rest on me for a long moment before shifting back to the girl in front of her.

  “Jean! Hey, Jean! Where are you?” Connor whisper-hisses, leaning over the counter.

  Ryan shoots her brother a dirty look but doesn’t say anything as her coworker appears from around the cubicle partition.

  “Thank God you’re here. We need your help.”

  Jean tucks her hair behind her ear. “With what?”

  “Baker’s not going to Alaska. Ronan’s going to take his place.”

  “Oh? Okay?” Her onyx eyes flicker between the two of us.

  “We need you to make that happen.”

  Surprise lifts her brows. “I don’t have anything to do with Alaska recruitment. I don’t even know who—”

  “You must know someone, though. Come on! You’re the outdoor staff coordinator! You’re our one contact for in here, and Alaska is taking two of us from you. You must know who to talk to.”

  “I don’t, really...?” Her small, round face scrunches up with apology.

  “Try Belinda Cartwright,” Ryan cuts in, pulled into the conversation despite the housekeeper in front of her. “She’s the general manager for Alaska and she’s in Miami right now, down in one of the conference rooms. Try the Pacific room.”

  Connor slaps the counter. “Beautiful. Thanks, sis. Come on, Ronan. Let’s get you to Alaska.”

  I shrug at Ryan. “You really want me out, don’t you?” She’d get an entire condo to herself for the summer.

  “So, you’re not completely clueless after all.” She adjusts her glasses and continues to stare at me. The look on her face is unreadable.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  “Why didn’t you apply during the process?”

  It’s a struggle not to look down at the soft mounds peeking out of her silky white blouse. The general manager of Wolf Alaska—a fucking gorgeous blonde who made my blood start racing just watching her stroll toward us in her red stilettos—has managed to make her suit look both professional and slutty at the same time. “I was in a different point in my life at the time.”

  She folds her arms over her chest, a knowing smirk touching her lips. “And now?”

  “Now I’d really like the opportunity to go to Alaska.” Am I even saying these words?

  “It’s an easy swap,” Connor adds.

  Her sharp eyes size him up behind a pair of designer black-rimmed glasses. “Yes, you’ve already said that. And you just started in Miami when?”

  “Last Friday,” I admit reluctantly.

  “You’d be leaving the team short-staffed.”

  “They would have been short-staffed anyway if Baker had left.”

  Her painted lips twist in thought, and I find myself staring at them, wondering what they’d look like wrapped around my—

  “What’s your name again?”

  “Ronan Lyle.”

  She unlocks her phone and begins typing out an e-mail. “Well, Ronan Lyle, assuming you have a good work record—”

  “I do.”

  “Well then, I don’t see there being a problem with this. Though, I don’t normally get involved at this level of hiring. But, since you two hunted me down....”

  I can’t help but note the absence of a wedding ring or the way she keeps sizing us up. “So, will HR give me the okay or—”

  “I’m giving you the okay. The job is yours. I’ll handle them. You’ll get an information package by the end of the day and then you can book your ticket. You know it won’t be cheap, this close to travel dates, right?”

  “I’ll make it work.” For what they’re paying up there and the money I’ll be saving, not going to clubs, it will all even out.

  “You are awesome, Belinda.” Connor gives her his thousand-watt smile.

  All he gets back is another long, intimidating gaze. “Shouldn’t you two be working right now?”

  “Lunch break.”

  “Hmm. Well, I doubt you’re supposed to be roaming the conference area in your construction boots. Okay, then. I’m sure I’ll see you two in Alaska.”

  Connor and I watch her stalk away, her heels clicking loudly and hips swaying suggestively with each step, like she knows the two of us are standing here, gawking at her.

  “Did she just make your dick hard?” Connor whispers.

  “Like a flag pole. Holy hell, how is she a general manager?”

  “You kidding? Henry Wolf handpicked her.”

  “Of course.” Rich bastard. I’ve never met the guy but I’ve heard enough. The one time he came to the Wolf in Indianapolis, the female staff wouldn’t shut up about how attractive he was. I’m sure Belinda will be taking care of more than just his hotel for him.

  “So, we’re golden. See? Told you I’d make this happen.”

  “Yeah.” I’m going to Alaska. Like, next weekend.

  Connor pats his stomach. “Now I need food before I pass out.”

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  It’s after ten by the time Ryan walks through the door, throwing her backpack onto the floor with a thud. She looks exhausted.

  And miserable. Like she’s fighting the urge to cry.

  “You’re gonna have this place all to yourself for five months!” Connor bellows, oblivious to her mood. Or trying to cheer her up. I’m not sure that Connor is as obtuse as he plays at being.

  Ryan’s gaze drifts over the laptop on the coffee table, to the cans of beer in our hands, and finally to me. “I take it you got the job?”

  “Looks like it.” I got the welcome package two hours ago. For whatever else Belinda might be, she’s definitely on top of things.

  “Yeah, we just booked our flights. We leave next Saturday.”

  “You two gonna share a bed up there, too?” Ryan mutters, wandering over to the fridge. I expected some more excitement from her than she’s showing. She hasn’t hidden the fact that she doesn’t want me here.

  “Depends how many girls are in it with us.”

  Her face twists up. “Gross, Connor.”

  He climbs off the couch and carries the empties over to the waiting case. Living with this guy is going to turn me into an alcoholic. “No it’s not. You need to get back to your Greek roots.”

  “I have no Greek roots. Neither do you.”

  He shrugs. “Live a little.”

  “That’s your solution to every problem, isn’t it? Get laid?”

  “Hasn’t failed me yet.” He lets out a belch. “I’m crashing. See you guys tomorrow.” With that, he vanishes into his bedroom.

  I watch quietly as she rifles through her food, pulling out glass containers. Moving her things to the bottom shelf was a brilliant move on my part. It makes her bend over further, giving me a better view of that round ass, especially when she’s wearing leggings, and she wears those a lot. She’s got solid, muscular thighs. Not skinny, but proportionate to the rest of her. The only part of her that isn’t proportionate is her waist, which is extremely small. It works well on her though, making her breasts—I’d put them at a C—stand out and her hips all the more provocative.

  Abruptly, she turns and catches me ogling her.

  I’m slow in averting my gaze, not really caring if she knows I’m checking her out. “So, how are you doing today?”

  “How do you think?” She sighs, tossing a bag of carrots onto the counter. “He sits two rows over and she comes in to visit him all the time. Walks right past my desk, too. Doesn’t even bother to go another way. And then everyone notices. I can feel them watching me to see how I’m going to react.”

  “That sucks.”r />
  I catch a hint of a sheen in her eyes but she blinks rapidly until it clears away. “It really does.”

  “I guess they have those office dating rules for a reason.”

  “Those are for managers and subordinates. I don’t report in to David.” She bites down hard on a raw carrot.

  “Still... it’d be a lot easier if he didn’t work in your office.”

  “I’m never dating anyone from work again, ever. It’s like high school—people gossiping about how David cheated on me, and how I had no clue. Don’t people grow out of that?”

  I ease off the couch. “No, they don’t. They get worse as their lives get more boring. And sitting in those cubicles all day has got to be pretty fucking boring. They can’t keep their mouths shut.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Please. This coming from the guy who told everyone he messed around with not one but three women last Friday night? Yeah, that’s right. I heard about it.” There’s no missing the disgust on her face.

  “I didn’t tell anyone about anything. Thank your brother for that.”

  “So your big ego doesn’t need stroking like my brother’s?”

  “My big ego is not what needs stroking.” Her hazel eyes flash to me and I smirk. She walked right into that. “But I never talk about it. It’s none of anyone’s business who I’m with or what I do with them.”

  “Unless they’re misfortunate enough to share a wall with you,” she says dryly.

  “Hey, you questioned my skill. I had to prove you wrong.”

  She rolls her eyes.

  “Fine. I was drunk. It wasn’t one of my finer moments,” I concede.

  “So that was all an act for me? How sweet.”

  I’m not going to be able to convince her otherwise. And I’m tired. “Don’t worry, your ex and front desk girl won’t last long. I give them a month.”

  I say it to give her some hope—that it won’t be thrown in her face every day for too much longer—but the crestfallen look says I haven’t helped much.

  “Glad he threw away a year and a half with me for something meaningless.”

  “I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”