Page 3 of Release Me

The girl bounces back into the wall, her headphones and water bottle dropping from her grasp to hit the floor. She looks like she just came back from a run, her fair skin glowing, her T-shirt drenched in sweat, her brown hair pulled back into a damp, matted ponytail.

“Sorry,” I apologize as she reaches down to collect her things, well aware that my briefs can’t possibly hide my morning wood. At least I’m wearing briefs. I normally sleep naked.

“Ronan! Hurry up or I’ll leave you here!” Connor hollers from the kitchen. He’s already dressed in Wolf Hotel’s maintenance crew garb—beige cargo work pants, a forest-green collared golf shirt, and steel-toe boots.

When I turn back, the girl has ducked past me and disappeared into her room without giving me so much as a glimpse of her face.

“That was Ryan,” Connor says.

“Yeah, figured as much.” I head for the bathroom. “I’ll be ready in five.”

When I usedthe bathroom last night, there were no hints of a female. But now that I’m in the shower, there’s no missing the evidence—colorful bottles and razors line the shelves, a shower cap hangs on a nearby hook, a giant pink puffy thing dangles from the shower handle.

Stepping under the water stream, I wrestle with the showerhead to raise it to normal height, accidentally knocking several shampoo bottles to the tub floor. The puff ball ends up there too, along with one of her razors.

I don’t have time to be picking up all this shit right now. I don’t even have time to shave the stubble from my jaw, and the Wolf employee code requires a stubble-free face. Hopefully, my supervisor won’t be strict about it. It’s not like we interact with the guests, anyway.

Standing under the steady stream of hot water, I attempt to scrub my brain awake. My hair is buzzed so short, I don’t really need to shampoo, but the minty scent usually wakes meup. A minute of soaping down with my basic Irish Spring bar and then I’m slapping the tap and climbing out.

Shit. I forgot to pack a bath towel too.

Sheets … a pillow … I better make a list for tonight.

I open the narrow closet behind the door and find it fully stocked with everything one could possibly need plus more. There’s an entire shelf of various creams and bottles and boxes for monthly female issues, all lined up and facing out. Organized to the point of obsessiveness.

So, Ryan likes things neat. I should probably remember that, if we’re sharing a bathroom. Something else to think about … later.

I grab a fluffy pink towel and wipe down quickly. Then, cinching it around my hips with one hand, I leave the bathroom.

And plow into Ryan again, this time on her way out of her room toward the kitchen.

“I’m sorry.” She takes a step back, giving me an opportunity to get a good look at her face, still sweaty, flushed, and disheveled from her run. She looks nothing like Connor. Her eyes are large and round and hazel-colored, her cheekbones are high, her nose small and buttonish. Overall, kind of average, to be honest. Probably not a girl I’d take a second glance at, but by no means unattractive. She’s short, five foot two, if I had to guess, the top of her head meeting my collarbone. She’s compact. One of those little body types that’s curvy but proportionate to her height.

“Dude! Hurry up!” Connor hollers.

Right.“Hey, I’m Ronan.”

She stares up at my face for five long seconds, her expression unreadable, before her gaze drops. “That’s my towel.”

I open my mouth to explain—and apologize—when she cuts me off, outrage twisting her face. “Are you kidding me? You can’t just move in here and take whatever you want. That’s not how this works!”

Whoa.“I’ll wash it tonight.”

She throws a glare toward the kitchen. “Did you even vet this Neanderthal before you let him move in here?”

Huh?

“Relax, Ry,” Connor says around a sip of his coffee, seemingly unbothered by his sister’s explosive reaction.

“Relax?How can I when you’re making me share a bathroom with one of the Screw Crew! I’m probably going to contract gonorrhea from the shower!”

What the… I give Connor a bewildered look.

He merely shrugs in response, the small smile telling me he finds this amusing.

I don’t. And I have exactly two minutes to get dressed before I am left behind—because I believe Connor’s the type to do that. I don’t have time to stand here and be yelled at by my new pint-sized roommate. And if she’s going to be hurling insults at me …

I release my grip and let the towel drop to the floor. “You want it? There you go. Thanks for letting me borrow it until I can get to the store.”

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