Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
That couldn’t have been real. I’ve watched porn before. That’s what she sounded like—like she was being paid to perform. Granted, she was drunk, but still …
If she enjoyed it half as much as she faked it, she had a great night.
Worse, I heard Ronan when he came—a deep, guttural sound that spiked my pulse.
That spiteful bastard clearly dialed it up ten notches after I banged on the wall, slamming into her so hard that I thought his headboard might break through the plaster. He got what he was probably aiming for—my rage—but the longer it went on, my anger began to compete with illicit thoughts I do not want of my dirty roommate. Especially not while the memory of him in our hallway, freshly showered, buck naked, and arrogant is still fresh in my mind.
It’s the last bit of our heated conversation that I can’t shake.
“I’m not fucking on your schedule, Ryan.”
“Not unless you’re the one in my bed.”
An unwanted flutter stirs in my lower belly as those words replay through his deep, raspy voice. Ronan is gorgeous, even if he knows it. Those sharp green eyes and angular jaw are enough to stop anyone in their tracks. There, I admitted it.
And I’m not the only one who has noticed. There were plenty of whispers about “the new guy.” The moment he strolled out of the office last Friday, I saw the stares and mouthed oh my Gods. The furtive questions followed quickly. What did you mean when you said he was a nudist? What does he look like naked?
How big is his you-know-what?
But even with all his arrogance, there’s something acutely sad about him. It makes me hate him a little less …
Just a little.
8. Ronan
“Ready?” Connor hollers from the living room.
I grab my wallet, cigarettes, and keys from my dresser, and on second thought, abandon the keys. They’ll only annoy me on the volleyball court and besides, what’s the point? I’m always with Connor. We’ve become attached at the hip.
Ryan’s door opens as I’m stepping out of my bedroom. It’s the first I’ve seen of her since our 2:00 a.m. confrontation on Friday night. It’s now Sunday. “Hey, what time do you need the shower in the morning?” she asks, not a hint of the usual venom in her voice.
I falter, not familiar with this docile version. “My alarm goes off at 6:20.”
“Great. Have a good night.” She ducks into her room and closes the door without another word.
I exchange a confused look with Connor, who only shrugs. All right, then …
Maybe she’s realized what a shrew she’s been and is coming to terms with this new arrangement.
That’d be nice.
I pound on the bathroom door. It’s 6:30 a.m. Ryan knew I needed to hop in the shower ten minutes ago to get to work on time. So why the hell did I hear the water start at 6:15?
This is intentional.
And she’s not answering.
My irritation flares. “Come on, Ryan!”
Connor staggers into the kitchen, a little rough around the eyes after our late night at the bar down the street. But he’s clean and in uniform, coffee in hand, ready to go. “What’s goin’ on?”
“Your sister is being as sweet as ever, that’s what’s goin’ on.” She’s gonna make me late.
He nods toward his side of the condo. “Use mine.”
I’m about to concede, but … “No! Fuck this!” I like my razor and my shampoo and my soap. She’s doing this to piss me off. I bang on the door. “If you don’t answer me in five seconds, I’m gonna assume you’ve slipped and fallen, and I’m gonna kick this door down! Consider this fair warning. One! Two! Three—”
The water shuts off.
Seconds later, the door opens, and Ryan emerges in a cloud of steam, still in her pajamas, her hair dry, a book tucked under her arm.
What the … “You didn’t even take a shower.”
She lets out an exaggerated yawn. “Oops! Silly me, I can’t believe I forgot to actually get in!”
My face screws up. “You forgot to get in?”
She shrugs innocently.
“And let me guess—you forgot my schedule too?”
“Whoops! Totally slipped my mind. I guess I was just so tired after losing all that sleep this weekend. You know, with all the whores.”
“For fuck’s sake. That was Friday night and stop calling women whores!” I don’t often let my anger get the better of me, but now I’m struggling.
Ryan strolls past me and into her room, kicking the door shut behind her.
I turn to Connor, who’s devouring a banana and grinning. “Is she for real? Did that just happen?”
“You two kids better figure out how to get along. And hurry up. We’ve gotta go soon.”
Fuck. I duck into the bathroom and turn on the tap, waiting impatiently for the water to turn hot.
There’s none left.
9. Ryan
My hands tremble as I lean back against my door and listen to Ronan’s brief exchange with my brother and his even briefer shower. I’ve complained to Connor at least a dozen times about how small our hot water tank is. For once, I’m glad his cheap ass refused to upgrade.