Page 23

Ronan

A isling shuffles around my apartment like she owns the place. And I think a sick, selfish part of me wants her to. She’s like a tornado, all chaos, kicking her shoes off at the door and heading straight for my kitchen like she’s done this a thousand times before.

“Hungry?” She asks me as she digs around in my refrigerator, tapping her fingers on the handle as she searches. “Looks like you got onions, tomatoes, beef, chicken…” She starts to trail off, taking a mental inventory like this is her home to care for, to create comfort in.

I watch her, arms crossed, leaning against the doorway with a smirk I can’t hold back .

“How about we order pizza tonight,” I say firmly, not allowing her any leeway. She pops her head over the top of the door, her eyes sparkling like she just won the lottery.

“I fucking love pizza!”

She starts to do this ridiculous little food dance that takes the breath straight from my lungs. She’s burrowing herself into my brain, deeper than I should let her, and I’m not even mad about it.

“Cheese pleaaseeeeee,” she singsongs to me as I pull out my phone, grinning despite myself.

“Anything else you want, gorgeous?” I ask as I pull up the order.

“Ohhhhh, can we get some wings too? Boneless, though. I don’t like bones in my meat, just inside me.”

I choke slightly, almost losing grip of my phone. I look up at her, those soft thighs, and a hint of mischief in her eyes.

Gods help me .

The things I would do to bend this girl over the counter … Stop it, brain. Not right now.

“Mild, medium, or hot?” I ask, trying my best to distract my stupid boy brain from staring right at her tits.

“Medium, please. I don’t like them super spicy. Just spicy enough.” She winks at me, and I swear on my life, my heart skips a beat.

I would crawl on my hands and knees through the underworld's fires if it meant I could get even one taste of her.

“I’m gonna go get changed and set up everything in the living room for us,” she says as she glances down at her bag from work.

“Do you like video games?”

I stare at her, dumbfounded. Of course she fucking plays. She’s fucking perfect.

I let out some sort of uh-huh , a mix of a grunt and a growl. She accepts it as an answer and makes her way toward the back of my apartment, shutting the door softly behind her.

I finish placing the order for food and look up to see her in a little pair of black velvet shorts, thigh-high black socks, and a big sweatshirt that says something about men with bat wings on it.

A goddess covered in ink and chaos. She catches my gaze and motions for me to sit on the couch with her.

“Call of Duty or Overcooked?” She questions, reaching for some controllers. She grabs a pink one and hands me a black one.

“Hmmm. Let’s go COD for now, then maybe Overcooked later?”

“Eeekkk perfect! I love it!” She takes her place next to me on the couch, sitting so close I can feel the heat coming off of her body.

After loading up the game, we play a few rounds before the pizza arrives. I tip the delivery driver and bring it over to the coffee table before laying out some plates for us.

“Hey,” she says quietly. “I want to thank you for letting me come over. I know it was probably inconvenient for you, but…I really appreciate it.”

I put my slice of pizza down and reach over, squeezing her thigh.

“You better shut that pretty little mouth of yours, A,” I growl. “You’re not an inconvenience . And if I hear you say that one more time, I’m going to bend you over this couch and show you just how inconvenient I can be .”

The words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them. But fuck it. She needs to know that nothing about her is a burden.

She’s a walking dream, made of softness and sparks, and I’d tear the world apart just to prove it to her.