Page 35
Story: Release Me
“Maybe.” I try for casual indifference. It comes out strangled.
Ronan swaggers out the door, chuckling.
I hitthe button for four and let my backpack fall to the elevator floor. It lands with a thud and then topples. My textbooks spillout.
“Shit.” I stoop to pick them up just as someone stops the sliding doors from closing.
“I hate it when people jump into a closing elevator,” a guy says, out of breath, reaching to help me.
I look up to find a man smiling at me. He obviously came from the gym or a jog because his shorts and T-shirt are drenched with sweat and his blond hair hangs limp around his forehead.
I stand. “I wasn’t cursing you. I was cursing these.”
Blue eyes take in the textbook in his grip. “Economic policy. My favorite.”
“You’re lying, right?”
“If I say that I’m not, will you think less of me?” He flashes a boyish grin. “I majored in economics at Cornell.”
“Impressive.” Only one of the top schools in the country. This guy must be smart. And I’ve never seen him before. “Did you just move in?”
“About a month ago.” He pauses for a second, then thrusts out his hand. “I’m Kyle.”
I fumble to free myself and take it. “Ryan.”
The elevator opens to the fourth floor. Kyle holds the door and waits for me to step out.
“It was nice to meet you,” I offer.
“Yeah, you too.” He hesitates. “I’ll see you around the building?” It comes out sounding like a question—or an invitation?
But I’m too focused on my next run-in with my new roommate to give it much thought. “Yeah, sure.” I sling my backpack over my shoulder and head for the end of the hall, equal parts excited and panicked.
It’s Thursday. Connor always goes out on Thursdays, and since the two of them have been attached at the hip, I have to assume Ronan’s gone too. They’re likely at the bar. Will Ronan pick up someone tonight?
Is he going to bring home a woman?
An unexpected wave of dread hits me, even as I remind myself that he was up front with me last night about it being a onetime thing. He’s going to do whatever he wants with whomever he wants tonight.
I’m so dumb.
Whydid I think sleeping with him was a good idea?
By the time I walk into our empty condo, I’ve worked my stomach into knots.
Now I get to sit here, my guts twisted with all kinds of terrible ideas. Seriously, this is why I can’t have casual sex.
With a groan, I throw my bag to the floor and head for the fridge, even though my appetite is dead.
“What the …” I frown as I take in my shelf. Everything is shifted around, out of order. The large containers are sitting on top of small ones. And my yogurts are flipped upside down. It’s utter chaos.
Connor wouldn’t do this. He knows how much I hate people touching my things. This had to be Ronan’s work. Is it payback for something or is he trying to get under my skin? Is this the equivalent of pulling pigtails in twenty-something-year-old Man Whore Land? I actually don’t know how old he is. Or anything about him.
Shaking my head, I spend a few minutes reorganizing everything before I grab an apple and head to my room.
Things are out of place there too. It’s all subtle, and for someone who isn’t particular probably wouldn’t be noticeable. A picture that’s not quite straight, a book that’s flipped upside down in a stack of right-side-up books, a necklace dangling oddly on its hook.
My stomach erupts in butterflies even as my jaw tenses, knowing Ronan was in my bedroom. He’s testing me.
Ronan swaggers out the door, chuckling.
I hitthe button for four and let my backpack fall to the elevator floor. It lands with a thud and then topples. My textbooks spillout.
“Shit.” I stoop to pick them up just as someone stops the sliding doors from closing.
“I hate it when people jump into a closing elevator,” a guy says, out of breath, reaching to help me.
I look up to find a man smiling at me. He obviously came from the gym or a jog because his shorts and T-shirt are drenched with sweat and his blond hair hangs limp around his forehead.
I stand. “I wasn’t cursing you. I was cursing these.”
Blue eyes take in the textbook in his grip. “Economic policy. My favorite.”
“You’re lying, right?”
“If I say that I’m not, will you think less of me?” He flashes a boyish grin. “I majored in economics at Cornell.”
“Impressive.” Only one of the top schools in the country. This guy must be smart. And I’ve never seen him before. “Did you just move in?”
“About a month ago.” He pauses for a second, then thrusts out his hand. “I’m Kyle.”
I fumble to free myself and take it. “Ryan.”
The elevator opens to the fourth floor. Kyle holds the door and waits for me to step out.
“It was nice to meet you,” I offer.
“Yeah, you too.” He hesitates. “I’ll see you around the building?” It comes out sounding like a question—or an invitation?
But I’m too focused on my next run-in with my new roommate to give it much thought. “Yeah, sure.” I sling my backpack over my shoulder and head for the end of the hall, equal parts excited and panicked.
It’s Thursday. Connor always goes out on Thursdays, and since the two of them have been attached at the hip, I have to assume Ronan’s gone too. They’re likely at the bar. Will Ronan pick up someone tonight?
Is he going to bring home a woman?
An unexpected wave of dread hits me, even as I remind myself that he was up front with me last night about it being a onetime thing. He’s going to do whatever he wants with whomever he wants tonight.
I’m so dumb.
Whydid I think sleeping with him was a good idea?
By the time I walk into our empty condo, I’ve worked my stomach into knots.
Now I get to sit here, my guts twisted with all kinds of terrible ideas. Seriously, this is why I can’t have casual sex.
With a groan, I throw my bag to the floor and head for the fridge, even though my appetite is dead.
“What the …” I frown as I take in my shelf. Everything is shifted around, out of order. The large containers are sitting on top of small ones. And my yogurts are flipped upside down. It’s utter chaos.
Connor wouldn’t do this. He knows how much I hate people touching my things. This had to be Ronan’s work. Is it payback for something or is he trying to get under my skin? Is this the equivalent of pulling pigtails in twenty-something-year-old Man Whore Land? I actually don’t know how old he is. Or anything about him.
Shaking my head, I spend a few minutes reorganizing everything before I grab an apple and head to my room.
Things are out of place there too. It’s all subtle, and for someone who isn’t particular probably wouldn’t be noticeable. A picture that’s not quite straight, a book that’s flipped upside down in a stack of right-side-up books, a necklace dangling oddly on its hook.
My stomach erupts in butterflies even as my jaw tenses, knowing Ronan was in my bedroom. He’s testing me.
Table of Contents
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