She stretched up on her toes, wrapping her arms around my neck in a surprisingly warm and gentle hug. “Thank you. Again.”
When she pulled back to meet my gaze, I took her face in my hands and kissed her, slow and deep and delicious, just enough to get me through the hours until I could touch her again.
Ronan stood behind her, hands wrapped protectively around her shoulders, but when I broke our kiss and looked him in the eye, I found no challenge there.
Only respect.
“Take good care of our little brawler,” I said.
Ronan nodded. “Always do.”
“And take care of yourself, too.” I headed for the front door with Emilio, but turned around one last time to add a final word—one I hadn’t said to Ronan Vacarro in many years, but suddenly felt right again: “Brother.”
Thirty-Four
Gray
“I’m just saying it’s complete bullshit,” Ronan grumbled. “What dude would willingly drop out of his awesome band, sell his guitar, and open a bakery just because some woman told him she liked cake?”
“Um. A dude who wants to get laid? And I gotta say, that would absolutely do the trick for me.” I hit pause on the rom-com marathon we’d been watching for the last two hours and headed into the kitchen in search of snacks.
The other guys had left hours ago, and though Ronan was doing his best to keep me calm and relaxed, the tension between us kept mounting. It was the first time we’d been alone together since our kiss last week, and when I’d suggested a movie marathon, Ronan was quick to jump on board.
Movies meant no quiet space. No dead air. No chance of talking about what happened.
No chance of it happening again.
But compartmentalization only worked for so long.
“Nothing soothes the soul like a giant scoop of peanut butter rolled in popcorn and M&Ms.” I prepared a big spoonful for Ronan and handed it over. “Now tell me what’s really bothering you.”
Ronan wrapped his hand around mine, lifting it to his mouth and shoving the spoon inside. His lips brushed my fingers, the touch of them warming my entire hand.
“I can smell him on your skin,” he finally said.
“Who, Darius?”
Ronan nodded.
“Okay, first of all?Beyondcreepy, Vacarro. Second of all, is that seriously what’s bugging you, or are you just making a general observation?”
“Both.”
I scooped up my own peanut butter deliciousness, but unlike Ronan, I savored mine, one lick at a time. “What is it with you two, anyway? You go from mortal enemies to nearly cuddling. And now I find out you’ve been partners in crime all along?”
Ronan shrugged. “We’ve known each other a long time. Sometimes it’s… suffocating.”
Maybe it was a product of my being alone for so long after I’d left home, but I couldn’t imagine feeling suffocated by a genuine relationship like the guys seemed to have. No, nothing was perfect, but true friendship—mutual respect, authenticity, shared history—that wasn’t always a given with people. You couldn’t throw that away just because you needed a little space sometimes.
“Is it possible you’re overreacting, just a little?” I asked.
Ronan stared me down for a long moment, his autumn gaze unwavering. I was beginning to think he’d given up on the conversation, when he finally blurted out, “No. Is he a good kisser?”
I laughed. I actually laughed, because the question was so far out of left field, I didn’t know what else to do.
But Ronan just stood there, waiting for an answer.
I crossed my arms in front of my chest, glaring right back at him. “Would it bother you if I said yes? Isthatwhat you’re pissed about?”
