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“I’m trying.” Nails dug in even harder, jaw grinding. I was panting shaky, shallow breaths.
The rolling storm that was Ronan loomed over me, nearly eclipsing the ceiling light. For a moment, he was nothing but shadow and a vibrating presence. In front of me, his hand curled into a tight fist, flexing in and out.
“Are you okay,meala?”
“I need you to move out of my light,” Joaquin said.
“Iris?” Ronan ignored Joaquin’s demand, lightly touching the top of my head. “Do you need to stop?”
“No.” My throat was thick. My breathing was labored. Speaking took more effort than I had to expend. Luckily, Ronan’s shadow moved away so Joaquin didn’t have to kick his ass.
But then metal dragged across the tile floor, and Ronan plopped in his chair at the head of the bed. “Iris?” My name rumbled out of him, concern lacing through it.
“She’s fine, bodyguard. Low pain tolerance and shading on ribs is a bad combo for her.” Joaquin paused, resting a warm, gloved palm on my shoulder. “Why don’t you give her a hand to squeeze so she doesn’t squirm and I can get this over with quickly?”
He didn’t move, even as Joaquin got back to work on me. I sucked in another shallow breath, hoping my ribs didn’t move too sharply and mess anything up. Joaquin muttered to himself, but he didn’t reprimand me like he used to when we first fell in love.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” Ronan groused.
“I love it.” Straightening my arm, I held out my open hand. “Give me something to squeeze.”
After a beat, he placed his massive palm over mine. I curled my fingers around his much thicker ones, holding tight as tears dripped down my cheeks.
“What happened to the tough girl?” he murmured. “You don’t seem so tough now.”
I dug my nails into his palm in retaliation, but he only chuckled. His hands were dry and smooth, callused here and there. Each finger was a mile long and as thick as a tree trunk. I squeezed a little harder, just to see if I could elicit a reaction, but he remained a silent sentinel.
“Tough girls get hurt sometimes, Ronan. Some tough girls hate pain.Realtough girls aren’t afraid to show when they’re hurting.”
“Mmm,” was his infuriatingly short response.
“What does that mean?” I whispered.
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
I brought his hand up to the bed and lifted my head to lay my cheek on it. His fingers flexed, but he didn’t pull away, so I didn’t think he minded too much.
“Be quiet, Ronan.”
“Mmm.”
