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Ronan
Iris was curled up in the corner of my couch,tapping on her phone, her mouth curving into a slight smile. I sat in my armchair across the room, sipping a glass of whisky, my tie loose around my neck, watching. Always watching this girl. A week had passed since I’d forced her here, and I hadn’t taken my eyes off her.
I’d keep her here forever if it were up to me, but knowing Iris, she was itching to leave. She hadn’t said as much. I hadn’t asked either. If she demanded I let her go, I wouldn’t be able to. That fact simmered on low during every one of our interactions.
“What’s making you smile?” I asked.
Her head jerked up, and she tossed her phone aside, rising to stalk across the room to me. Once she reached me, she settled sideways on my lap, her arms looping around my neck.
“A text from Megan about Logan’s new girlfriend. She said she’s nineteen and calls Logan ‘daddy’.” She shivered. “Please never ask me to call you that.”
“You’re still talking to her?”
She stilled, all amusement falling from her features. “Sometimes. Not often. She’s a friend, as you know. Do you want to read my texts?” Defiance filled her question. She’d let me read them, but she’d hate me for it if I did.
“I don’t. I just wasn’t aware of how often you spoke.”
She turned her body and splayed her hands on my chest. “Stop. I exchange a text every once in a while with my friend. Don’t make it something it’s not.”
I took her face in my hands and exhaled against her mouth. “A friend you fucked.”
She licked her top lip. “And you keep in contact with the woman you not only fucked but were married to for nearly a decade. We can play this game, which both of us will lose, or we can trust each other.”
Point hitting dead center, the coil in my gut unraveled slowly and my muscles relaxed. She was right, of course. If I pushed her like this, neither of us would be happy and I’d lose her.
“I trust you, Iris. I don’t doubt you for a single second. It’s Megan Mills I’m not so sure about. I saw her hands on you. That wasn’t a woman who only wants to be your friend.”
She took my hand from her jaw and held it against her chest. “Does it really matter what she wants?” Her nose grazed mine. “I wantyou, Ronan. I let you kidnap me and haven’t even tried to run away, despite the fact that you’re a grumpy asshole when you come home from work.”
“It’s a long day without you. If I came crashing in here without unwinding with a drink first and did what I wanted to you instead, you’d be gone.”
Her plump arse shifted on my leg. “I had no idea. I thought your normal routine was to come home, grunt, pour yourself a drink, and stare at the couch for thirty minutes before speaking. This is specific to me?”
I growled, and she giggled, showing me that gap I was addicted to making appear. “I stare at the couch because you’re there and I can’t get over how good you look in my space. I need the drink to take the edge off so I don’t attack you and consume you. The grunting…well, I don’t think you’re ready to hear what’s on my mind when I see you quite yet.”
She shivered, and goose bumps raised up and down her arms. “I like being here too. I get to run upstairs and visit baby G and Daisy whenever I want.”
Chuckling, I pulled my little tattooed badass softy closer to my chest. “And? Is there any other reason you like it?”
She bit my chin before kissing it. “I like you, Ronan. When you’re not overly grumpy and being an asshole, Ireallylike you.”
I kissed her mouth the way I liked, slow and deep, tasting every inch of her. She melted into me like always, going soft and allowing me to direct her. We fit in unexpected ways, ways that didn’t make sense on paper, but in reality, were pretty fucking close to perfection.
I’d accepted I was in love with Iris Adler weeks ago. It’d been years since I’d loved a woman and it had hit me like a freight train. I wouldn’t behave so irrationally for anything less than love.
“Iris,” I cupped her face, catching her blue eyes with mine, “I want you to stay.”
She held on to my wrists, her kiss-swollen lips hitching in one corner. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“After this is settled. Stay here. Live here. Make this permanent. I want to come home to you, or you to me. I want you here, with me.”
“No.” She didn’t even think about it. “No. This is temporary.”
I held her face for two more erratic heartbeats before dropping them. “It doesn’t feel temporary. It isn’t to me.”
“I meant this living situation. I don’t mean you. But I can’t…” Her brow pinched, as if pained. “I like being here. Can we leave it at that and order takeout? We’re probably both a little hangry, honey bunny. There’s no use trying to have a rational conversation in this state.”
She slipped from my lap as fast as she could, striding into the kitchen where I kept a folder of menus. She’d made fun of them the first night, but each night since, she’d flipped through them to pick a restaurant.
