Page 26 of Release Me

“It had nothing to do with Ronan. I needed to get away from David!” I whisper-hiss. Not that it helped because in the end, he came out there to seeher.I veered for Connor and Ronan out of desperation because they were the only faces I recognized and I didn’t want to be that awkward girl standing in the middle of the high school cafeteria, clutching her lunch tray with nowhere to sit. “Why, are people saying I’m hooking up with Ronan?” Damn it, those two may have been trying to get a rise out of me, but they weren’t wrong.

“Most of them are talking about howtheywant to hook up with him.” She snorts and then quickly covers her nose with her hand, embarrassed. “He’s hot, Ryan. Like,reallyhot.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” I lie. That angular jaw? Nope. His intense green irises? Nada. The way his full lips kick up at the corner in the slightest, most hidden smile? Does nothing for me.

But I’m not even fooling myself. The truth is, Ronan keeps sliding into my thoughts even though I don’t want him there. I’ve secretly admired that body from the first moment I saw it, even when I was yelling at him about my towel and calling himan STD-laced Neanderthal. It didn’t help that he was so kind to me the other day when he had every right to be a dick after my shower stunt. My first impression of him was way off. He’s not actuallythat bad.

Jean snorts again.

“If he wasn’t leaving for Alaska, I’m sure everyone drooling over him would get a ride.” Connor always wins, which means this latest scheme to swap Baker for Ronan will work and I’ll have the condo to myself this summer. No complaints there.

“That’s right. You’re running out of time.” She waggles her eyebrows.

“No way.” I emphasize that with a head shake.

“Then why are you blushing?”

“Okay, go knit something.” I wave her off, my cheeks on fire.

“You don’t always have to besosensible.” Jean slides off my desk. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing, you know, especially since he’s leaving. Easy break, no commitment …”

“I wouldn’t even know what to do with a guy like that,” I scoff. “It’snothappening.”

13.Ronan

It’s after ten when Ryan walks through the door, throwing her backpack onto the floor with a thud. She looks exhausted.

And miserable, like she’s fighting the urge to cry.

“You’re gonna have this place all to yourself for five months!” Connor bellows, oblivious to her mood. Or he’s trying to cheer her up. He’s not as obtuse as he plays at.

Ryan’s gaze drifts over the laptop on the coffee table, to the cans of beer in our hands, and finally to me. “I take it you got the job?”

“I did.” The welcome package arrived two hours ago. For whatever else Belinda might be, she’s definitely on top of things.

“We booked our flights. We leave next Saturday.” Connor throws up his arms in celebration.

“You two gonna share a bed up there too?” Ryan wanders over to the fridge. I expected more excitement from her than she’s showing. She hasn’t hidden the fact that she doesn’t want me here.

“Depends how many girls are in it with us,” Connor chimes in, earning my chuckle.

Her face contorts with a grimace. “Gross.”

He climbs off the couch and carries the empties over to the waiting case. Living with this guy is going to turn me into an alcoholic. “No, it’s not. You need to get back to your Greek roots.”

She flashes an incredulous look his way. “I have no Greek roots. Neither do you.”

“So?” He shrugs. “Live a little.”

“That’s your solution to every problem, isn’t it? Get laid?”

“Hasn’t failed me yet.” He belches. “I’m crashing. See you guys tomorrow.” With that, he vanishes into his bedroom.

I watch quietly as she rifles through her food, pulling out glass containers. Moving her things to the bottom shelf was brilliant on my part. It makes her bend over further, giving me a better view of that round ass, especially when she’s wearing leggings, and she wears those a lot. She’s got solid, muscular thighs. Not skinny but proportionate to the rest of her. The only part of her that isn’t proportionate is her waist, which is tiny. It works well on her, though, making her breasts—I’d put them at a C—stand out and her hips all the more provocative.

Abruptly, she turns and catches me ogling her.

I’m slow in averting my gaze, not really caring if she knows I’m checking her out. “So, how are you doing?”

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