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Iris
Iwoke to a splittingheadache and a mouth stuffed with cotton. I deserved nothing less for my atrocious behavior the night before. If only I’d gotten a little drunker so I didn’t remember humiliating myself multiple times.
Adam’s poor coffee table. I wished I could recall what had been important enough to climb up there to make an announcement. I’d danced on a few bar tops without shame, but maybe those days were coming to an end.
Having to be carried to bed by Rodrigo. The hair pets Hope gave me. Telling everyone about my dildo.
My worst crime of all, I couldn’t even bring myself to think about. I pulled my covers over my head and groaned, but that hurt my tender head, so I clamped my lips shut and squeezed my eyes closed.
“Ronan, I’m lonely.”
“You’re not alone, meala.”
“I like your voice. It makes me feel safe.”
“I always want you to feel safe with me.”
“If you reach your hand out of your covers, there’s a bottle of water on your nightstand. Painkillers too.”
Startling at the sudden male voice in my bedroom, I shot up and scooted to the far side of my bed, clutching the sheet to my chest like it would protect me. I cracked one eye, finding Ronan seated in the corner, half cloaked in shadow. He tipped his head toward my nightstand.
“Drink, Iris.” He was ordering me around again, but I had no room to fight him, not when he was right. I needed water and Tylenol, stat.
I took a long pull of water, pleased it was room temp instead of icy, and swallowed three pills. I peeked under my blanket, relieved I’d put on a tank top last night. No panties, so my ass was bare, but at least my tits were hidden.
“Why are you in my bedroom?” I asked.
He took a long time to answer, leaning forward and clasping his hands between his knees. He was dressed in a dark suit, impeccable as always, and it was only nine in the morning. We contrasted so precisely right now, it was almost funny.
“I thought I should check on you,” he replied, like it all made sense now.
I rubbed my eyes, relieved not to come away with black on my fingers. At least I’d washed my makeup off last night.
“How did you get in?” I asked.
“Adam.” I hated how he answered questions that way. No details, expecting me to accept what he said at face value and I guess infer the rest.
I squinted at him, but he was impossible to read. “He let you in?”
“Mmm.” He settled back in the chair again, cloaking himself in shadow.
“Well…great. I’ll have to have words with him about allowing strange men into my bedroom while I’m unconscious. That was real cute of him.”
“Probably. He opened the door and walked away. Didn’t even ask me why I was here before he fell asleep on the couch. He doesn’t take your safety as seriously as he should.”
“Ugh, Adam.” I shook my head and pounded on my comforter. “So…” My eyes flared, waiting for him to tell me why he was here. And hoping he’d forgotten the phone call.
“Why are you crying?”
“Hope and Roddy are so beautiful. They deserve each other. Two little baby angels sitting in a tree. But what about me?”
“What about you, Iris?”
“Where’s my tree?”
“Um—”
“Do you think I can have something beautiful? God, I don’t even know if I want something like that. But it would be nice to know I could have it if I wanted it.”
