“Oh …” I sigh into his mouth before I realize that he’s done it again. I smack him on his solid chest. “And you did it again! You better stop it, Ronan, honestly. I can’t think when you do that.”
He grins. “Good, I don’t want you to. Go out with me, Blaire.”
I shake my head, fighting a smile. “I know I’m going to regret this.”
“Maybe … but live a little.”
“I like my life to be planned and uncomplicated.”
“It’s better to live a life full of regrets than not live at all.” He lowers his voice and adds huskily, “Let me show you how it’s done.”
“What makes you think you have what it takes?”
After he roams my face hungrily with eyes that burn with passion, he leans down to whisper in my ear, his breath tickling my skin, “I’ve got what it takes. Trust me on that.”
“This is crazy, but fine. You win.”
He smirks like the sexy man that he is, charm oozing out of his every single pore. “Aren’t the best things in life the ones that make us feel a little crazy? A little reckless?”
I bite my lip and let his words sink in, wondering if he’s right. “I don’t know about that …”
“I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?” He moves away from me, my body already missing his warmth. Eyes on me, he starts to walk backward toward the elevator. “And in the meantime, stay away from the streets.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a heart attack on legs, beautiful.”
I laugh and cover my face with my hands as I stare at him through the gaps between my splayed fingers. “Oh my God. That was so bad.”
Ronan smiles a sweet smile that emphasizes how beautiful he is, but that isn’t what makes my heart leap. It’s the way he’s staring at me. What I see in his eyes. “It made you laugh, didn’t it?”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing. I wanted to hear you laugh.”
I roll my eyes and laugh, the sound free and light as I let the moment sink in.
Ronan … it could be so easy to fall in love with you.
I TAKE A DEEP BREATH, FLIP ONTO my stomach, the fluffy pillow underneath my cheek soft and comforting, and stare ahead. The shadows of the night disappear as rays of sunlight bathe the room in a golden glow. Ronan dropped me off sometime after midnight, but I haven’t been able to fall asleep. When I try to close my eyes, my mind replays my entire day with Ronan over and over again, sending my heart into overdrive. My body still hums with energy and giddy excitement, forcing sleep away.
I watch the morning breeze coming through the open window, making the white curtains dance lightly against the windowpane. The movement is fluid and free—so peaceful to watch, so different from the storm brewing inside me. Not even the frenzied fluttering in my stomach, or the slow burn between my thighs as I remember his touch, can keep my thoughts at bay. The angry voices shout inside my head that he’s bad for me and that I should tread carefully, but I try to quiet them for as long as possible. I just want to pretend for a little longer that I’m normal; that someone actually likes me for who I am, and maybe that someone could grow to care for me.
My heart rate accelerates as I recall what it felt like to kiss him. What it felt to have his arms wrapped around me like he was never going to let go. What it felt whenever he smiled at me and only me. I try to distinguish the feelings coursing through me in the Ronan aftermath.
Is it happiness?
Awe?
Satisfaction?
Hope?
Desire?
Fear?
I think it might be a little bit of everything. How can I describe the exact feelings that reign my body after what could possibly be the best day and night of my life? I’m giddy. I’m confused. I’m scared. But I’m so damn happy. For a day, I lived to the fullest.
Ronan showed me that there’s a difference between living and living. And it wasn’t that we were reckless or that we did anything outrageous … no. It’s odd, but I felt every second tick by. Every laugh was real, every word we spoke meant something, every touch of his etched itself on me, and every kiss we shared embedded itself in my soul. There were no wasted or trivial moments.
Every single minute counted.
Every single second breathed new life into me.
I take a deep breath and try to control my nerves when I hear my cell ring. Call it sixth sense, but I immediately know it’s him. As excitement runs through me, I get off the bed, my feet hitting the carpeted floor almost at running speed, and reach for my phone sitting on top of my dresser.
Motionless, I watch his name light up the screen and a smile so big it hurts my cheeks spreads across my face. I feel something akin to joy and delight running through my veins. My heart hammers inside my chest. About to reach for the phone, a thought crosses my mind.
I like him.
I really, really like him.
The phone keeps ringing and I keep staring at his name on the screen. Hesitation holds me hostage. Fear of the unknown cripples me. It’s also fear that allows his phone call to go to voicemail, forbidding me to pick up. But there’s a spark inside me, one that shines brighter with every second that passes by, its light breaking through the darkness in my heart.
Would it be so unforgivable if I stole a few more forbidden and happy moments with Ronan before he realizes how unworthy of anything remotely close to love I am? I’ve tasted heaven in Ronan’s arms and I don’t want to leave just yet.
Is it selfish of me? Maybe.
Is it reckless of me? Definitely.
But Ronan makes me want to let my hair down and dance naked in the rain. He makes me want to put Taylor Swift on and sing at the top of my lungs about how everything has changed because of a man with freckles and what I see in his eyes. And as long as I don’t let my guard down, as long as I keep my eyes open and my heart tightly shut, I should be okay. I should be able to get lost in Ronan and his beauty for a little while without getting hurt.
Dear paralyzing doubts,
You can kiss my Chanel-clad ass (at least for now) and go to hell.
Love, Blaire.
I grab my phone and call him back.
“Hi,” I say breathlessly.
“Hi, beautiful,” he says, and I get the feeling that he’s smiling.
“Sorry about missing your call. I—”
“It’s okay. You called back.”
Yes, I called back … I called back!
And just like that I know that I’ve never stood a chance against this man.
Ronan.
Official Date #1:
WE MAKE OUT IN THE MOVIE THEATER like teenagers ’til our lips are sore and puffy. Note to self: Must watch the movie again when I’m not with him. Couldn’t even tell you what it was about, other than it had people in it.
Date #2:
He takes me to his favorite restaurant in China Town and attempts to teach me how to use chopsticks. It’s a complete failure, but he gets extra points for not laughing at me in my misery. Like, how the hell are you supposed to grab peanuts with those things without losing them halfway to your mouth?
Date #3:
He pulls me into his arms in the middle of a busy street, and there’s a moment before his mouth lands on mine in which we stare at each other silently. No words are needed. No grand gesture. It’s just him and me. A woman and a man finally finding each other in a world full of noise and distractions.
It’s our beginning.
Date #4:
We dance close together in an almost deserted Central Park under the moonlight while he alternates between humming a Jeff Buckley song in my ear and kissing my neck, leaving me breathless.
Dates #5, 6, 7 …
It doesn’t matter what we do as long as I’m with him. His face is all I see and his touch all I need. Being with him is simple. It’s magic. He’s summertime and his kisses warm sunlight. He makes me think of popsicles and laughter. He makes me feel free.
; Whenever we’re together, I can hear the fast beating of my heart, feel the blood rushing to my head, his nearness setting my body ablaze. Fear, delight, and thrill spin inside me, tangling with one another until I don’t know where one begins and the other ends. But there’s no time to think, or unravel my emotions.
I know I’m living some kind of borrowed dream and that when I wake up, I’ll crash and burn, but I won’t let reality intrude just yet. I can’t.
So I finish getting ready to spend another stolen moment with Ronan. I run my fingers through the curls in my hair as I watch my reflection in the mirror above my bathroom sink. The girl staring back at me is a stranger. Her blue eyes shine brightly with a light that wasn’t there before, and fire colors her cheeks. She looks happy … hopeful. A part of me wants to call her a fool, but I quiet that voice before it has a chance to make me see reason and ruin everything.
I close my eyes and let go of those thoughts with the shake of my head when I hear the doorbell ring. I take one last look at myself in the mirror, making sure that my cut-off denim shorts look good with my flowy Chanel white tee. Satisfied with my appearance, I fluff my hair one last time, smile, and make my way to open the door for him.
With his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, his brown hair perfectly messy, he looks scrumptious in a white linen shirt with its sleeves rolled all the way to the elbows. “Hel—”
Before Ronan even gets a chance to finish his sentence, I grab him by the forearm and pull him urgently toward me. Our chests flush against each other, I kiss him hungrily. Suddenly afraid, a necessity to make sure that he’s real and that he’s here, standing in front of me, takes over, and only his lips, his smell, and the feel of his body so close to mine will dissuade such need.
When we pull apart, our breathing is heavy, desire an invisible thread connecting us. In an unspoken agreement, we both take our time, savoring each other and not rushing things. But with each heated kiss and caress that we exchange, we test the limits of our sanity further and further, until control is almost nonexistent.
“Someone is happy to see me,” he says huskily, a slow smile appearing on his achingly beautiful face.
I stand on my tiptoes, wrap my arms around his neck, and rub my left cheek on his chest. “You have no idea. I’m in so much trouble it’s not even funny.” And I am. I’m in so much trouble because this man is making me doubt myself and my goals.
“Here, Blaire.” He places a finger under my chin and pushes it up until I get lost in his eyes. Lifting his hands, he buries them in my hair and pulls my face closer to his, our lips almost touching. Ronan traces the crests of my burning cheeks with his thumbs. “Babe, listen to me and listen carefully. If you’re in trouble, I’m fucked. I was a goner the moment you smiled at me. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone as much as I want you.”
Lost in his eyes, eyes that own me, I can feel my pulse shoot up to the stars. “You’re going to make me drown, you know?”
“I know … but I’m right there with you.”
I giggle. “We’re really fucked, huh?”
“Utterly fucked.”
I smile. He smiles. And the world disappears.
Oh, Ronan, how you make my heart glow.
Before we head out, I go to my bedroom to get my leather bag. As I’m about to grab it, I happen to look at my dresser where my perfume bottles are, and something I’ve forgotten all about since I met Ronan catches my eye. Lawrence. His business card beckons me like the light at the end of a dark tunnel. I pick it up and trace its sharp edges as vestiges of our last conversation flood my memory.
“I’ll be here when and if you’re ready. And I hope that you will be, Blaire. I truly do.”
I don’t know what I’m doing with Ronan or what will happen between us, but the last thing I need right now is a reminder of my other life. My real life. So I push thoughts of Lawrence and what we talked about to the back of my mind.
I’m just having fun. What are a few more days?
As I paste on my first fake smile for Ronan, I ignore the little voice inside my head saying that time is almost up.
“CAN I OPEN MY EYES?”
“Nope, not yet … just a few more steps,” Ronan says, opening what I think is a sliding door. I hear the city sounds play in my ear as the balmy air of an early evening in the summer whispers on my skin.
I extend my hands in front of me. “Fine, be that way.”
Ronan laughs in my ear. “It’s a surprise, you impatient lil’ thing. I hope you’re hungry though.”
“I’m starving, but not for food,” I tease, a playful smile on my lips as I reach behind me for the front of his pants.
“Good.” He laughs. “We’re here. I’m going to let go, but don’t open your eyes until I tell you to.”
“You know you’re making it incredibly hard for me not to cheat, right?”
Ronan chuckles, his hands circling my waist. “All right. You can open them.”
And when I do, my breath catches in my throat.
We’re standing in what I assume is someone’s private terrace at the top of a building facing Central Park. The sun is setting, casting amber and red lights across the park and the buildings surrounding it. It’s as though the city is burning to the ground, the sky filled with clouds like cotton candy in all its shades of pink, purple, and blue. In awe, I turn to look at Ronan, who’s watching me with a sheepish smile on his lips, the golden speckles in his brown eyes shining like winter lights.
“You mentioned the other day that you love sunsets.”
Suddenly, I feel like crying. I don’t think anyone has ever done something this special for me, let alone paid attention to what I’ve said outside of the bedroom. To most guys, I’m only a body they enjoy fucking and showing off. I don’t think anyone has ever cared enough. That is … until now.
I tuck some hair behind my ear with trembling hands as I finish admiring what Ronan has done for me. On the floor, there’s a checkered picnic blanket and a wicker basket filled with cheeses, fruit, and wine. Not caring about anything but Ronan and the overflow of feelings pouring out of me for this man, I turn to face him.
He’s watching me with his arms crossed, looking like he just discovered the cure for a deadly disease. Without sparing a second thought, I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, and kiss him, open-mouthed. I kiss him with everything that I have and everything that I am. I kiss him with the passion of a woman tasting the promise of true love for the very first time in her life. Every man before him forgotten.
I break the kiss and stare at him, trying to find the right words to thank him, but all I can do is drink him in. Ronan pushes my hair out of the way gently. “Do you like?”
I nod. “I like. A lot.” And because I don’t know how to show gratitude with anything but the use of my body, I whisper against his mouth, “Do you want me?”
He leans down, his nose tracing my collarbone. “Indecently.”
I lick my lips. “Take me to your apartment.”
“Are you sure?”
“As sure as I’ll ever be.”
Ronan is quiet, but the way he’s looking at me feels as if he is tattooing himself within me, within my soul. “Let’s get out of here then.”
The ride back to the Lower East Side, where his apartment is located, is quiet. We both realize what’s about to happen and really, what is there to say?
We haven’t kissed since we left his friend’s penthouse; we’ve only held hands. The tension between us is heady and makes me want to throw up. I feel excited, nervous, giddy, jumpy, but I’m not scared. In a way, this feels more like my first time than it ever felt with Mr. Callahan.
Inside his room, I walk toward the bed and stop when I’m standing in front of it. I take a deep breath as I stare at his navy blue duvet before I turn around. Slowly, as an unsmiling Ronan devours me with his eyes, I take off my T-shirt and let it fall to the floor. Ronan reclines his back against the door, rubbing the back of his neck as
he continues to watch me undress for him, naked admiration and want reflected in his gaze.
I take my shoes off next, curling my toes as I fight an epic battle with nerves. I want to laugh at myself. Here I am, what I would consider a worldly, promiscuous girl, feeling gauche for the first time in my life because of a man and the innocent emotions he awakens in me.
I unbutton my shorts and take them off until I’m left wearing nothing but a light-pink thong and bra. Many men have seen me undress and used my body until I couldn’t walk, but right now I feel like the innocent virgin I never was. Not even Walker came close to affecting me the way Ronan does. As a matter of fact, being with Ronan demonstrates how little I cared for Walker. How insignificant he was.
I’m about to unhook my bra when Ronan steps forward, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Not like this, Blaire.” He runs a finger along the edge of my bra, the side of his finger tracing the curve of my breasts. “You have no idea how many nights I’ve lain awake imagining this moment … what it would feel like to have you in my arms. I want your mouth on me, your hands on me. I want to taste you … savor you … devour you until you’re begging me to stop. I want to feel myself buried inside of you, moving in you, robbing me of all logical thought. I want to feel you tremble, hear you gasp and moan as I pull you tighter against me. I’ll go deeper and deeper until both of us burn with desire and passion. I want to mark you. I want to fuck every other guy out of your body until I’m all you feel, all you remember.” He leans down and nips my lower lip. “Tonight I’m not going to make love to you, Blaire. I’m going to own you. Do you hear me?”
I brush his cheek with the back of my hand, the contact scalding. “You already do,” I say softly, and it’s true. No one matters anymore besides Ronan.
No one.
Ronan lowers me to the bed and lies down next to me. Leaning over me, half of his body covering mine, Ronan lowers his head until his hot breath touches my skin, raising goose bumps all over. I close my eyes, trying to calm my rapid breathing when I feel his tongue gently tracing the beauty mark above my belly button. “You taste so fucking sweet,” he says huskily.