Page 47 of Ronen
My brother leaned his large body against his closed door, arms crossed over his chest.
“Something or someone? Because you reek of dried cum and sex, your neck looks like you tangled with a vampire, and–” he waved his hand in the direction of my head, “I didn’t think it was possible for your hair to be messier than it usually is, but here we are. And I have neighbors, you know? What the fuck warranted all that pounding?”
Scrunching up my face, I planted my hands on my hips. “What neighbors? You’ve got Uncle Gabe and Asher across the street, and Bennett and Shay next door. They are all practically family. They don’t count.”
Matty pinched the bridge of his nose. “Some days I can’t manage to figure out how your brain works. Come in. Sit. Tell me all about your stupidity. I’m sure it has something to do with your fated mate.”
He moved past me, into his dining room, then on into his kitchen, where I couldn’t see him.
Instead, I stared at the hideous walls of his living room. One wall painted turquoise, one lime green, and the other peach possibly. It was some shade of orange. Looking at it made my eye twitch.
“I can’t believe Uncle Wade has never painted these walls,” I commented, taking a seat at Matty’s table.
It was strewn with his laptop, and various folders and papers. A red pen sat abandoned on top of a pile of what looked like student papers. “Who makes their students actually use paper? I know you’ve heard of online and computers.”
Hell, Matty had been taking online classes when he was in elementary school, and he had helped develop many apps colleges and universities now used for teaching tools.
Matty reached into the cabinet above his stove, pulling down a heavy bottle full of amber liquid. Grabbing two glasses, he carried the bundle back to the table.
Grinning as he poured us each two fingers worth of the very expensive bourbon, he slid one across to me.
“I like to fuck with them. You should have heard the bitching when I told them I expected printed copies. It gives me some kind of weird joy to wield my red pen the way I do.”
“With great power comes great responsibility.” I might have been quoting Spider-Man, but it was good enough to clink our glasses together in a toast.
“And I think Uncle Finn has given up on Uncle Wade ever repainting those walls. I honestly think he has had to have the paint touched up over the years. It was the same color when Papa and I rented this place, before he and Dad got together,” he paused. “Or back together, I guess, technically. Anyway, it grows on you after a while.”
Matty was renting this two-bedroom bungalow from our Uncle Wade. It had once been owned by our Uncle Quinn, who had sold it to Uncle Wade. Once he and our Uncle Finn had gotten together, he then decided to use it as rental property. I had forgotten that Matty and Papa had once lived here, before I was born.
Uncle Wade had some crazy notion that the little house held some kind of magic when it came to fated mates. He claimed nearly everyone who ever lived in it had found their fated mates shortly after moving in.
It had surprised me when Matty had told us he would be staying here, since he had more than enough money to rent, or even buy, something fancier. Hell, he could have bunked with me, our parents, even with our grandmothers. Their house was bigger than the two of them needed, even with my cousins Sammi and Charlie moving in with them.
“Oh, my Goddess.” A thought just dawned on me. “You’re living here to try to debunk Uncle Wade’s theory about this house and fated mates, aren’t you.”
“I’m living here because I like my own space, and I needed quiet to work on my book,” Matty told me. “And, maybe to tryto debunk Uncle Wade’s theory. I can use it in the book, so it’s a win-win.”
“Better watch out, you’ll be the next one to find their fated mate,” I warned, not at all sure I believed our uncle, but knowing his theory was based on a ton of people having met their fated mates when they lived in this house.
Matty chuckled, “Yeah, I’m not worried about it. So, you and Mason?”
“I didn’t intend to fuck him.”
He took a sip of his bourbon, letting it sit on his tongue a few seconds, before he swallowed. “What did you intend?”
Sighing, I took a gulp of my own drink, letting the alcohol burn all the way down to my stomach. “I…I just needed to make sure he was alright. Tell him we would cover his medical bills–”
Matty snorted, “Does the library have money for that? Without it shooting the insurance premiums up?”
“Never said the library would cover them.”
“Ah, makes sense,” he nodded. “Do continue. Wait, should I pop some popcorn for this?”
“Fuck off,” I growled, “this is my life, not some reality show on television.”
“Still good entertainment.”
Spinning my glass in a circle on the table, I stared at the amber liquid. Why did it remind me of Mason’s eyes? I was officially losing it.
