Page 39

"Ronan, stop!"

A deep chuckle sounds in my ear, sending shivers down my spine before he nuzzles against my neck, placing soft, closed mouth kisses along the sensitive skin. He pulls me tighter against him when I squirm. "And if I don't?"

The grip I have on the spatula tightens, but my head tilts, giving him as much access to my neck as possible. "I promised Carter I'd get him these cupcakes for the ten and under group. Do not make me disappoint a bunch of children."

"You've been working on them forever," he whines. "Why does Carter get your attention? He can make cupcakes himself."

"Yeah, from a box!" I argue, completely scandalized by the idea. "Those kids deserve something better for their celebration."

"They're children, babe," he deadpans. "If it has sugar, chocolate, and sprinkles, they're going to be happy."

Gasping, I spin in his arms to glare at him. "You did not just say that!"

With a laugh, he holds his hands up in surrender and takes a small step away from me. "I'm sorry, babe, but someone has to tell you the truth. Those will be devoured in seconds. They won't care how good they tast—"

My mouth drops open as the batter splatters across Ronan's face. I flicked the spatula at him without even realizing I was doing it, and now he's blinking at me while I fight to hold in the laugh.

"Seriously, Mia?" He groans, but I can see the small smile threatening to come out. "We're being that petty right now?"

The batter drips down his nose and I can't hold in the laughter anymore. "Oh—oh, my god. I am so sorr—"

I shriek as batter splatters across my own face. Holding a whisk in his hand, Ronan looks at me with a proud grin. "There. Now we're even."

I move on instinct, grabbing the pastry bag of frosting and aiming it at him. He opens his mouth to protest, but promptly closes it as the frosting smears across his chin and cheek.

Then it's on. In a matter of minutes, Ronan's kitchen is destroyed. Batter decorates every single thing I had out for cupcakes, and neither one of us care.

It came to an end when I slipped on some batter and almost went down.

In a move so reminiscent of the first time we met, Ronan caught me in his arms. This time, though, it wasn't quick enough, and we both tumbled to the floor.

Now we're laying on our backs on his kitchen floor, side by side, shoulders brushing, and we can't stop laughing.

I can't remember the last time I laughed like this with someone.

I know I've never been in a relationship that feels as easy as this.

But things with Ronan and me have always been easy.

He's one of the few people I've let my guard down around, allowed myself to be vulnerable; and it means more than he'll ever know that he does the same around me .

I meet his bright green eyes, and they still manage to take my breath away. He turns his head to look at me and sprinkles fall out of his hair, which sends me into another round of giggles.

He shifts until he's leaning over me, strong arms on either side of my head, keeping me upright. He leans down until he can kiss a smear of frosting off my cheek, and my breath catches again.

I can feel the smirk against my skin when he feels the change in my breath. Smug asshole. He moves to the other cheek and repeats the motion.

"We need to clean the kitchen," I tell him. "Almost all of this could kill Lezak."

"Good thing I don't pick him up from doggy day care for another four hours," Ronan murmurs against my skin, moving his kisses down my neck. I can't help but tilt my head back, granting him more access. "We've got plenty of time."

With a groan, I wind my arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer as he gently nips and sucks at the skin of my neck. He settles fully against me, content to stay right where we are, not move a single inch.

"Ro—" I gasp when he licks at more frosting that’s settled around my collarbone. " Ronan. "

"What, gorgeous?"

Oh, my god . The gravelly tone of that question has instant heat pooling in my stomach. I can't believe this is happening, again. For the third time.

He moves back up my neck until he can capture my lips in a searing kiss.

"We…we can't ." The last word is said in a whine when he reaches down to squeeze my breast. "Fuck. "

With a smile, he places a few quick kisses against my lips, his hand sliding down until it can sneak beneath my shirt. "What excuse do you have for me now?"

Every possible excuse I could ever come up with practically flies out of my head. My fingers tangle in his hair while his fingers skim up and down my ribcage.

Everything is different with Ronan. There's no moment of hesitation when his hands first glide over a layer of fat.

There's no admiring me when I'm spread out on my back, looking thin.

There's awe and reverence with every gaze, every touch, and every kiss.

I feel cherished by him in a way I never have before.

He chuckles against my neck before pushing the fabric of my shirt up, revealing my stomach. I let out a tiny moan as he starts kissing down my neck toward my collarbone again.

"Did I make you speechless, baby?"

When I look down at him, he's resting his chin against my chest, smirking up at me. His eyes are hazy, pupils so dilated I can barely make out the bright green iris. It's physical proof that I'm as capable of wrecking him as he is of wrecking me.

"We should move," I decide, finally remembering what I had started to say moments ago. I nod when he looks at me, confused. "We're on the floor, Ronan. We're both in our thirties."

"Trying to tell me I'm only good for the missionary position or something?" As though he wants to prove a point, he grinds down against me. "I'm not that old, and neither are you."

I bite back a smile, but the laugh still comes bubbling out. What is with this man and his ability to make me laugh during sex? It's still new to me.

"That's not what I was talking about," I tell him, his hand skimming down to trace the waistband of my leggings. Goose bumps prickle my skin. "Your leg— "

"My leg is fine," he assures me. "I'd tell you if it wasn't."

"But, Ronan—" I cut myself off with another gasp as warm fingers slide beneath the waistband of my leggings. "Oh, god."

He's still watching me, eyes dark and heady as my head lolls back, all thoughts of his leg forgotten.

As his finger finds my clit, starting with slow circles, he buries his face against my neck, offering soft kisses to the skin.

This man is going to ruin me. There are small whimpers coming from somewhere, but it isn't until he pulls back with a deep kiss to my lips that I realize it was me.

"Babe." I gasp against his lips. "Please."

"I'm not fingering you without lube, baby. We have a couple of options here, though. We can go upstairs and finish what we started, or I can take you against the counter."

Despite the heat shooting through me, melting me into a puddle right on Ronan's kitchen floor, I can't help but laugh. "You don't have lube down here, but you have supplies to do that."

Dark eyes take me in and sinful lips smirk down at me. "Come on, baby, you and I both know I can get you ready to take me with just a condom."

He doesn't give me a chance to answer before he's pulling back, the sudden removal of his body heat enough to make shivers run through me. Next thing I know, I'm being pulled to my feet and back onto the counter with his lips connected to mine.

There's still batter in places where there shouldn't be, still plenty of small messes for us to clean up later, but once he has me worked up enough that I'm a quivering mess, I don't care.

And when he turns me around, my back pressing against his chest, and he's sinking into me at the most delicious angle, I care even less.

One of my favorite things about living so close to my friends is the weekly get-togethers.

If we go to Josie and Bryce's, it's usually a game night with a side of whatever Bryce feels like cooking that night.

When it's my turn, Bryce is usually trying to keep Josie away from lighting my apartment on fire while we bake whatever recipe I found that week.

And when it's Carter and Kat's turn, we know we're getting takeout and crappy movies we spend the night talking over.

We haven't figured out what Ronan's week is, but not using that kitchen is a damn shame.

No matter where we go, though, I live for these nights.

This week it's Carter and Kat's turn to host and their townhouse is a flurry of activity when we get there. The delivery driver pulls up as we walk up to the door. Carter barely moves out of our way enough to let Lezak dart inside, let alone the two of us.

"No, it's fine," he calls when we walk past him. "I don't need help carrying things. Just go, keep walking."

With a dramatic sigh, Ronan presses a kiss to the top of my head and turns to help our friend. The closer I get to the kitchen, where we usually gather, and pile our plates high with food, I can hear laughter, but the combination of so many voices makes it hard to decipher who's actually talking.

"Mia!" As soon as I round the corner, I'm attacked by my best friend in a hug. She's practically vibrating with energy. When we separate, I take a quick glance down at her left hand to see—nothing.

I shoot a glare at Bryce, who seems to slink behind Katrina.

"Did someone give her an extra shot of espresso?" I question the room. Kat's beaming, shaking her head. "Why's she so hyper?"

"I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks ," Josie replies, linking her arm through mine. "So tell me, what's been happening? How's the new relationship going? "

Groaning, I turn my head to yell over my shoulder. "Babe, Josie's interrogating me. Get in here, please!"

"Aw, that is so cute!" Josie gushes. "She's asking him to come defend her. Bryce, why aren't we this cute anymore?"

Ronan comes in carrying bags of what smells like pasta, and my mouth waters at the sight of that gorgeous man holding carbs.

"Please," he says, setting the bag on the counter. "I literally watched him pout because you left a room without telling him you love him. You guys are disgustingly adorable."

"Exactly!" I agree, helping him unload the bag onto the counter. "Leave me and Ronan alone. All you need to know is things are going good."

"Well, I would hope things are good," Carter adds, trailing behind Ronan with more food. "You promised me homemade cupcakes and those kids got cupcakes from a box. Which means someone or something—maybe both—distracted you and then you couldn't follow through on your promise."

Ronan and I exchange looks of pure shock. "How do you possibly know that?"

He raises a brow. "Come on, Mia, I may be shit in the kitchen, but I can tell the difference between cupcakes that are homemade and from a box. They were dry as hell and tasted like fake chocolate."

"My apologies," Ronan says. "I didn't realize you've developed such a refined palette. Next time I decide to seduce my girlfriend in my kitchen, I'll make sure you're not who she's cooking for."

As my cheeks turn fire engine red, Bryce lets out a loud groan. "Please don't say ‘seduced’ in my presence."

"Did the kids have a problem with them?"

"No, Ronan." Carter frowns. "I barely managed to grab one for myself before the kids tore them apart. "

"Then does it really matter how the cupcakes were made?" Katrina turns to her boyfriend with a frown. "Why did they need to be homemade?"

"That's what I said!" Ronan grins.

Carter is pouting though and looking at his girlfriend like she committed the ultimate betrayal. "Et tu Brute?"

Kat simply rolls her eyes, pats his cheek, and goes about grabbing everything we need. Josie jumps into help, but Carter refuses to let the topic go.

"It's not always about the kids, you know. I worked hard this summer. I deserve a reward, too. But then Ronan had to go and defile cupcakes."

The wink my boyfriend sends me makes another blush coat my cheeks. This time, both Bryce and Carter groan, but the girls look at me with wide eyes.

"This isn't my house, so I can't ban sex talk," Bryce says. "But for the love of God, can we keep it PG?"

"We haven't even said anything!" Ronan protests. "If your mind is going somewhere dirty, that's on you and not us. Get your minds out of the gutters."

"Are you saying we're making too much out of this? That we're actually taking it somewhere dirty?"

Ronan grins at Carter. "Well, no, we never said that."

"Jesus Christ," Bryce mutters.

“If you act like this when Liam gets here, I’m going to kick all of your asses.

” Kat points at each of us individually.

“Not only is he my new employee, but he’s the guardian of one of the kids you coach.

I know you guys—I know how welcoming you can be—so don’t screw this up.

He’s feeling very much like a fish out of water and needs friends his own age he can talk to. ”

“He’s twenty-seven,” I point out. “That’s practically a toddler to Ronan.”

“Oh, fuck you.” He laughs, leaning over to press a kiss to my head. I grin up at him.

After that, everything kind of goes to chaos.

Liam arrives and Kat is making sure he knows everyone, which of course, he does.

Apparently, when they both worked under her stepfather, she hadn’t been shy about telling him, or their friend Nadine, all about us.

Including how annoying she initially found Bryce to be, which is probably my favorite part.

Liam blends into the group, not afraid to jump in on the teasing, and is a naturally relaxed person.

We learn that he went to school in Virginia, mostly on scholarships, and working his ass off to get where he is now.

If there’s one thing this group appreciates, it’s working hard to get the things you want.

He tells us about how Emmie is settling in, that he feels like he’s not quite reaching her.

We give him as much advice as a group of thirty-year-olds who are only children and all childless can give, but he’s grateful, nonetheless.

He gives us all the drama about Dalton Enterprises and what happened after Katrina made her dramatic exit.

Overall, it’s a good night with the opportunity to meet someone new and see if they’re someone who will get folded into our tiny, tight-knit family.

More than likely, the answer is yes, because it’s who we are.

All of us are so far from our families, either physically or emotionally, but we recognize the need for that connection and believe in families that are found through life.

Almost more than the ones we’re born into.