“Yeah. She’s doing better.”
Her lips pull in a smile, before she clears her throat. “Okay, thank you.”
“You can’t keep asking about her behind her back this way, Silver. You have to face her one day.”
“One day. Not today.” She pauses. “Don’t tell her I asked.”
“Whatever.”
She flips her hair. “And stay away from Cole.”
“You stay away from Ronan.”
We go our separate ways at the bathroom’s exit. She leaves the small coffee shop without sparing a glance at Elsa and Kim. Perhaps it’s because her parents are politicians, but from what I’ve seen, Silver is a master of disguising her emotions.
When I settle back at the table, two pairs of eyes almost dig holes in my face. I take a sip of my orange juice and meet Elsa and Kim’s incredulous gazes. “What?”
“What was that all about?” Elsa hisses. “Silver?”
“Yeah, Teal.” Kim huffs. “Why were you talking to Silver?”
Because of you. I lift a shoulder instead.
“She’s a bitch, Teal.” Elsa grips her hot chocolate tight.
“I can be a bitch, too.” I slurp from my juice.
“No, you’re not.” Kim rubs my arm. “You’re so cool. You’re just different.”
I suppress a smile. This is why Kim and Elsa are special – they don’t only see the façade but they take time to notice what’s behind it.
“Besides.” Elsa smiles in a sly way. “You’re with Ronan so he’ll eventually rub off on you.”
My heart does that tightening thing whenever his name is mentioned. I pretend the juice is my only focus. “He doesn’t matter.”
“You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at him when he’s not paying attention?” Elsa sighs. “It’s like you want to engrave yourself on his skin.”
“I do not.”
“Yeah, you do.” Kim pokes my shoulder. “He’s the same, you know. He looks at you like you’re the greatest and most fascinating riddle of all.”
He does?
How come I never noticed that?
Elsa winks at me. “I say you changed your views about love. It’s not a bunch of chemical reactions anymore, right?”
“It is. All dopamine and neurotransmitters. It’s all delusional.” Even as I say the words, I don’t believe any of them.
24
Teal
Being addicted to something is the worst thing that can happen to anyone. It’s like your entire life is based on that high.
While I always wanted to get rid of the trance mode, I never slipped into addiction. I never let anything become the centre of my life.
Not even my pain.
I got around it, fought it, and eventually, I made friends with it. That was the only way for me to survive.
What I never thought about was becoming addicted to someone rather than something.
Since I left the Meet Up over the weekend, all I’ve been thinking about is him. My unwanted addiction.
Fucking Ronan.
Around him I become this junkie in need of one more hit, one more smile.
One more touch.
If you asked me what I’m addicted to when it comes to Ronan, I wouldn’t have an answer.
It could be his voice with the slight rumble, his symmetrical face that somehow became a piece of art in my mind. Perhaps it’s his smiles — the genuine ones — or his clingy nature that for some insane reason comes across as adorable rather than creepy.
Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the care he showcases discreetly.
Around him, I’m levitating before I realise it. I’m smiling like it’s the most natural thing to do.
It isn’t.
It shouldn’t be.
I tell myself I’m only in his house because of Charlotte, but soon after I said my hello, I told her I’d be bringing up tea, even though she said Lars would do it.
I pass by Ronan’s room and linger there for a second too long — or maybe ten seconds; I don’t know.
God. I’m starting to be like one of those idiotic hormonal teenagers I thought I was above. Turns out I’m not — far from it.
Damn it.
Fine, I’ll pretend I’m cool with what happened at the Meet Up. After all, the reason I left was stupid. I was overreacting and being a fool and…fuck, I’ve been stalking his Instagram all weekend, waiting for him to post a picture with any other girl so I could pounce on him.
He didn’t.
He posted two pictures. One was of him and Xander half-naked, wearing shades and lounging by the latter’s pool.
The caption said: He hates me for waking him up, but I’m happy to have mon fréro back.
That put a smile on my face. Ronan always seemed to get along with Xander more than Cole and Aiden. Something tells me Xander is also more tolerant of Ronan’s personality than the other two.
The second picture was of Ronan making a face behind an oblivious Cole, who was reading from a book.
The caption said: Nerd.
That’s it.
He didn’t send me a text or call or anything. Okay, maybe the way I left wasn’t encouraging, but come on, this is Ronan. I expected a text that same night.
I kept staring at my phone through all of dinner until Knox made fun of me.
Then, he skipped this morning. Ronan is known to sleep in, but there are no parties he’d lose sleep over.
One thing led to another, and the next thing I know, I’m at his house.
Very tactful, Teal.
Well, since I’m already here, I might as well go with it.
I push open his bedroom door, and the sound of voices coming from the inside stops me in my tracks.
“Edric isn’t pleased,” says an older voice with a posh accent. It’s not as posh as the earl of the house, but close.
He stands by the window. Ronan sits on the pane with a huge grin plastered on his face.
“I’m afraid my father’s pleasure is none of my business.” Ronan releases a long mocking breath. “Phew.”
“You always had an attitude that doesn’t suit your parents,” the man says. His voice is familiar, I suppose because he’s Edric’s brother — the one who returned from Australia to help with the company.
From my position, I can only see the back of Eduard Astor. He’s wearing a hideous dark red suit and brown, leather shoes.
“I know, right?” Ronan’s grin widens. I can almost feel the force behind it and how he’s trying to keep his muscles in place.
“Some might even suspect you take after me.” Eduard’s voice turns sinister, smooth. “Wouldn’t that be the irony?”
“Fuck. You.” Ronan stands so he’s toe to toe with his uncle, but the smile doesn’t leave his face.
“Language.” I can hear the smirk in Eduard’s voice. “You’re an earl’s heir.”
“And you’re an earl’s brother. Act like one and stop fucking around or I swear—”
“What?” Eduard urges. “Finish what you started, nephew. Your noble blood says as such, right? As far as everyone knows, of course.”
Ronan continues staring at him as if he wants to run a pole through his chest and snatch it from the back. The hate is so tangible I can almost feel it crawl on my hands and wrap its meaty fingers around my throat.