He was wrong. It took one minute, not two.
In seconds, my entire body tensed, my breath catching in my chest and starbursts going off behind my closed eyes as the orgasm rocketed through me, flaring hottest where his tongue met my flesh. Ronan didn’t relent but coaxed me through it until the end, lapping at me in dirty, raw strokes that threatened to bring me to the brink all over again.
“No more,” I breathed, pushing him away and sitting up. “Oh my God…”
Ronan emerged from under my skirt, his face flushed, chin wet. “Good?”
“I can’t feel my legs, so…yes.”
He smiled a little, and I wondered how beautiful he’d be wearing a full, genuine smile.
His happiness isn’t my responsibility, I reminded myself. We were friends with benefits. Casual. I pulled away and jumped off the table, but Ronan was there. He caught me and kissed me again. Sweetly, though I could taste myself on him.
He’s sweet and dirty at the same time. Soft and rough…
The humming between my legs hadn’t diminished in the slightest; I could still feel Ronan’s mouth there and I wanted more. But his kiss that lingered on my lips was even stronger. The way he’d looked at me, held my face in his hands…
I wanted more of that too.
I cleared my throat and reached inside my bag. “In all the intrigue of vigilante justice, secret hideouts, and mind-blowing oral sex, I nearly forgot. I have something for you.”
Something I spent two solid weeks making because…casual.
I took Ronan’s hand and dropped the pendant in his palm. “Happy Birthday.”
Ronan glanced at me, then at the necklace in his hand. It had turned out pretty well, I thought. A sleek silver North Star with four short and four long points radiating from the center, each one sharp. I’d carved little sigils of lines and ovals in a repeating pattern around the star and then ringed the entire pendant with a rope-like design to give it a sailing, compass-like look.
“For when you feel adrift,” I said softly.
Ronan frowned, then looked up at me, confused. Touched. I took the two ends of the silver chain and reached around his neck to clasp them. The pendant lay against his chest, heart-level.
“I’ve never had something like this.” He was holding the pendant but looking at me.
My heart thumped too hard and broke a little at the same time.
“Now you do.”
Chapter Seventeen
Male voices sounded from outside, rescuing me from a moment that was growing too soft. Miller and Holden had arrived, and I was suddenly nervous, as if I were about to go in for an important job interview.
“It’s cool,” Ronan said. “They knew you’d be here.”
I nodded, smoothing down my skirt and watching as Ronan tucked the compass pendant under his T-shirt. A twinge nipped at me until I reminded myself, we’d agreed not to show each other off.
Ronan’s just following the rules.
Except he read my expression and explained, “It’s fucking perfect, but I don’t like people in my business.”
Or not.
I turned away before he could see the flush in my cheeks.
Outside, Miller and Holden stood near their beach chairs, talking. They both looked up, and Holden beamed like a proud parent. He approached me, hand outstretched.
“You must be Shiloh Barrera,” he said cheerfully. “Ronan has told me almost nothing about you.”
I laughed. “Sounds about right.”
Up close, Holden was devastatingly handsome in a completely different way from Ronan. Elegant, refined, with dyed silver hair and piercing green eyes that glinted with intelligence. Ronan had street smarts; Holden looked as if he had a hundred libraries behind his eyes and smelled of expensive cologne, clove cigarettes, and vodka. Like what I imagined a Parisian department store might smell like.
“Make yourself at home,” he said with a bow. “And might I add, it’s about damn time. Now if we can get Miss Violet here…”
“I’m on the job,” I said and joined Miller where he sat tuning his guitar.
He gave me a dry look. “That must’ve been some birthday present.”
“Oh hush. Are you cool with this? I don’t want you to feel like your private space is being invaded.”
“It’s fine, Shi. I’m really glad you’re here. With him.”
My cheeks flushed all over again. “Right, well…will Amber be coming tonight?”
“No,” he said, his expression darkening. “Please don’t tell her about it either, okay?”
“I won’t,” I said slowly, my brows furrowed. “I just thought since you’ve been together for months…”
“She’s never been here. This place isn’t for just anyone.”
The implications smacked me in the face. Ronan had asked me to come here months ago. After Homecoming.
Miller was watching. I cleared my throat. “What about Violet? Is this place for her?”
He stiffened and looked about to protest. Then he nodded, his voice thick. “Yeah, it is.”
I’d hung out at the Shack a few more times that week, telling myself it was to pave the way for Violet more than it was to be with Ronan as much as humanly possible. But mostly, it was just nice being there. I’d lived in Santa Cruz for fourteen years and hadn’t appreciated the ocean in this way before. Just sitting with it, listening to the waves crash while a bonfire warmed my face. I understood implicitly why the guys loved this place.
Holden regaled us with crazy, hilarious stories from when he’d spent a year in a Swiss sanitarium. He wouldn’t say for what, and I wasn’t about to pry. Sometimes Miller played his guitar and sang for us. I’d catch him watching Ronan and me, a wistful look on his face.
Finally, Violet agreed to come with me. Miller was still technically with Amber, but all three were miserable and something had to change. The friendship between Miller and Violet was worth salvaging, if nothing else.
That night, after a rocky start, they took a walk and came back looking more at ease, and I felt hopeful that they’d each found their way back to the other.
The guys ragged on each other, Miller played for us, and the hour grew late, the fire burning low. From the other side of it, Violet and Miller were a bundle on the sand under blankets, sleeping.
Holden, alone and drunk, staggered to his feet. With a finger to his lips, he warned us not to wake them, then stumbled away.
“Will he be okay?” I whispered.
Ronan shrugged, his mouth grim. “I don’t know. He’s drunk a lot. I don’t know what to do for him.”
“You’re here,” I said. “He knows that. You have his back.”
“Always,” Ronan said, then nodded at Miller. “Him too.” He looked down at me. You too.
He didn’t need to say the words for me to hear them, and I immediately felt like crap for working so hard to prove that Ronan and I weren’t an item.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” I said. “When I was short with you.”
“Which time?” Ronan asked and smiled into his beer. “I started to lose count.”
I nudged his arm. “Every time. When you offered to open my soda. Violet was watching us, and I hate that feeling.”