Tiny fractures, p.36
Tiny Fractures, page 36
“Just wait until you experience the full thing,” she says. “You’re going to wish you hadn’t waited this long to feel him like that. It’s just a whole different level of intimacy; you’re both completely vulnerable to each other.”
“Really?” I wonder out loud. After last night I feel even more connected to Ronan. The physical intimacy of his touch required so much of my trust, and I was able to open up to him without any hesitation on my part.
“Yeah,” Vada confirms. “After Steve and I had sex for the first time, it was like our relationship was on a whole new, higher level.”
I can see that. With Adam, I never felt the emotional connection; I didn’t trust him. But that’s different with Ronan. I haven’t trusted anyone like I trust him. “I feel kind of bad,” I confess to Vada.
She cocks her head at me. “Why?”
“Because Ran took his time, he was so perfect, it felt unbelievable, and he gave me my first orgasm,” I explain. “And I didn’t do anything for him. He had to go shower and ‘take care of himself’ afterwards, and I feel guilty.”
Vada laughs. “Kitty Cat, I wouldn’t worry about it. They ‘take care of themselves’ probably like three times a day. And I bet if you asked him if last night was enjoyable for him, even though he didn’t get off with you, he would tell you yes, it was the best night ever. But if you’re really worried about it, but you’re not ready to have sex yet, there are obviously things you can do to… help him.”
Of course, I blush again. “I know I’m overthinking this, but, I haven’t even seen a guy naked. Well, a guy that I wanted to see naked, at least,” I add. “What if I touch him wrong? Ugh…” I trail off.
“Okay, you need to get out of your head. First of all, I’m not sure you can actually touch him wrong, but even if you do, he’ll let you know what feels good and what doesn’t. And you can usually gauge their reaction pretty well. Guys aren’t hard to read when it comes to sex. And second of all, just try things out, see what feels good to you. I promise, you’ll know when you’re ready. It’ll just happen one day; you guys will be making out or whatever and suddenly you’re not going to want to stop. Your body will scream for more, you will want to feel him—and I mean all of him—inside you, and then you’re never going to want to go back,” she laughs, and I join in.
“What’s funny?” Steve walks into the living room wearing black jeans and a navy-blue t-shirt. He has a mug of a hot liquid in each hand and places them in front of Vada and me on the coffee table.
“Sex,” Vada exclaims, and reaches for her cup.
“Oh yeah? What about it?” Steve asks, his hands in his jeans pockets as he stands, facing us, eyebrows raised.
Vada shrugs and takes a slow sip of her coffee. “Cat is worried about not knowing what she’s doing, and I told her guys are pretty easy to read when it comes to sex.”
I blush for the hundredth time today and bump Vada’s shoulder, embarrassed that she so readily discloses my concerns to Steve.
Steve’s attention turns to me, his face kind. “Honestly, Cat, just do what feels good to you. Odds are it will feel good to Ran, too.” Then he creases his eyebrows. “Well, unless you’re into, like S&M. Maybe go easy on that. I don’t know; I honestly don’t know what Ran’s kinks are, so… yeah, I don’t know, just, don’t overthink it. Have fun,” he says, and turns to head back to the kitchen for another cup of coffee.
“Told you.” Vada leans back on the couch, sipping her coffee. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?”
I shrug and take the second cup of coffee from the table before leaning back against the couch. “I don’t know; Ran and I didn’t exactly get a chance to talk last night,” I grin. “Do you have any ideas?”
“Not really.”
“I have an idea,” Steve calls out from the kitchen, then appears from around the corner with another mug in hand.
“Well, enlighten us then,” Vada says.
Steve takes a leisurely sip from his steaming coffee. “Why don’t we go skating?” he finally says. “I probably won’t get a lot of opportunity to once I’m away,” he adds, and Vada turns her attention to me.
“Wait, like, ice skating?” I ask her and Steve, both of whom nod. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve never been.”
“You’ve never been ice skating?” Steve asks, squinting at me as if trying to detect a lie.
“Never in my entire life,” I say, making an X across my heart.
“What in the world? That’s just sad, Kitty Cat.” Vada pats my shoulder.
“So, skating it is, then,” Steve decides. “Your boyfriend will be delighted, since it’s kind of his thing, you know.” Steve grins at me.
“So I heard,” I grin back at him.
***
Ronan doesn’t wake up for another two hours while Steve, Vada, and I eat cereal and hang out. I hear him trudge down the stairs at just before eleven, and when he finally steps into the living room, I can’t help but smile. He’s wearing light-gray sweats, sitting low enough on his hips that the waistband of his black boxer briefs peeks out, but that’s all. I follow the ridges of his abdominal muscles up to his chest before finally finding his gorgeous face and locking on his eyes. The grin on his face tells me my staring did not go unnoticed.
“Good morning, princess,” Steve says while Ronan saunters toward me. “Did you get sufficient beauty sleep last night?” Steve winks at Ronan.
“Sure did,” Ronan says, and pulls me against his bare chest after he sits down next to me. “You on the other hand look like you could use a lot more beauty sleep,” he teases his older brother, who flips him off.
“Fuck off,” Steve says with a chuckle.
“We decided to go skating today.” Vada brings Ronan up to speed on our plans for the day.
Ronan leans back a smidge to look at me.
“I’ve never been,” I tell him. “So, you’ll need to teach me.”
“Oh, I’ll teach you, baby,” he says suggestively, his voice low, and I swat his shoulder playfully, rolling my eyes.
“Jesus,” Steve says with a huff. “Maybe you two should stay home and only Vada and I go skating.”
Ronan shrugs. “Works for me.” He plants a kiss on my temple while I inhale him. “But if you really want to go, let’s do it!”
It takes us an hour before we’re finally ready to head out the door. Ronan scarfs down a hastily made turkey sandwich as he and I sit, squeezed in the back of Steve’s Challenger while Steve drives us to the ice rink.
It’s freezing when we step into the ice center. I’m not sure what I expected, it being an ice rink and all, but I didn’t think I would be shivering within the first three minutes of arrival. I certainly understand now why Ronan grabbed not one, but two of his hoodies before we left, and I gratefully accept a navy-blue sweater Ronan hands to me with a knowing grin.
“What size shoes do you wear?” Steve asks me while Ronan, his fingers interlaced with mine, leads me down a narrow walkway adjacent to the icy rink where people, young and old, are already exhibiting varying levels of skating prowess.
“Eight and a half,” I say.
Steve gives me a quick nod. “Perfect. We’ll be right back.” He pulls Vada with him to the counter where people can rent ice skates. “Oh, wait,” Steve calls out to me, “what kind of skates do you want? Hockey or figure skating?”
I shrug and look at Ronan. “What’s the difference?”
He smiles that sexy half-smile at me that always makes my head go all mushy. “Go with hockey skates,” he says, then quickly pulls my hand toward him, and with it my whole body, stepping around a burly guy who didn’t look like he had any intention of avoiding a collision with us. He’s tall and wide, his stature familiar, and for a second I think it’s Adam. My body tenses, the hairs on my neck standing up when I look back at the guy who’s walking away from us, head ducked, hands shoved into his pockets.
“Okay,” I say, still craning my neck, but the guy’s head is covered by a hood. Before I can make out details, he disappears from my view, and I quickly shake off the eerie tension in my body. There’s no way Adam could be here in New York, let alone at the same ice rink I’m at right now.
“Get her hockey skates,” Ronan yells at his brother, who gives me a quick salute. “Hockey skates are easier to learn with,” Ronan explains to me, not picking up on the momentary change in my demeanor as he continues leading me down the walkway. “Figure skates have toe picks in the front,” he says as he holds open a glass door and I step into a small room.
“Oh, it’s warm in here,” I remark gratefully.
Ronan chuckles. “That’s probably because this is the warm room,” he says, and I give him an incredulous look. “I swear,” he says, amused by my expression, “it’s called the warm room.” He laughs now, and it’s infectious.
“Got it,” I say, sniggering at him. “The warm room. I’m learning,” I say proudly, and he plants a kiss against my temple. “Teach me more,” I urge while I touch the spot where his lips just met my skin. “What are toe picks?”
“Toe picks are those little zigzag things on the front of the figure skate blade. They allow figure skaters to dig their toes into the ice and then do their fancy jumps and stuff,” he says, and motions for me to sit down in a chair.
I sit and begin to untie my shoes, slipping them off one by one.
Steve and Vada join Ronan and me in the warm room. “Here you go,” Vada says, and drops a pair of black hockey skates in front of me.
I give her a smile but turn my attention back to Ronan. “And hockey skates don’t have those,” I observe, scanning the blade of one of the skates Vada just dropped in front of me.
“No. Hockey skates are shorter and more rounded, making them ideal for speed and quick maneuvering,” Ronan says, sitting down next to me. A tingling sensation moves up my leg when his knee touches mine while he takes off his chucks.
“Do you think I should be using skates that are made for speed and ‘quick maneuvering?’” I ask, eyeing the skates with a concerned look on my face.
He laughs again. “The toe picks on figure skates tend to trip people up, so yeah, I think you’ll be more comfortable with hockey skates.” He puts on his skates, tying them quickly and skillfully while I fumble around with the seemingly yards-long laces on my own pair.
“Can I help you?” he asks, his eyes a liquid green. I could get lost in those eyes, swim in them like an ocean. Ronan takes a knee in front of me, then helps me slide first one foot, then the other into the skates before he laces them for me.
“You never lace my skates sexy like that for me,” I hear Vada complain to Steve, who snorts a laugh.
“I’ll tie your laces for you next time,” Steve laughs.
“Ready?” Ronan asks, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I say hesitantly, and follow Vada, Steve, and Ronan out of the little room and to the ice rink. I feel wobbly on the thin blades, but nothing prepares me for my first time on the ice. Ronan steps on before me and immediately spins around to face me. He looks absolutely comfortable on the ice as he holds out his hands to me, and I take them. I step onto the ice and immediately lose my footing.
“Holy shit,” I squeak as Ronan tightens his hold on me.
“You’re doing great,” Ronan smiles at me. “Try to keep your feet straight. Yeah, like that. Just try and get a feel for the ice.” He skates backwards, holding my hands and pulling me along with him. We make two full rounds in the rink like that while Vada and Steve keep passing us up and cheering me on, which makes me laugh.
“Focus, baby,” Ronan says, smiling when I look over his shoulder at Vada and Steve, who are skating hand-in-hand. Steve is definitely the better skater, his motions fluid and confident, but Vada can hold her own.
And then I spot him again, the burly guy from earlier. He’s standing by the boards, apparently looking on, his hood pulled low over his head, making it impossible for me to make out a face. But his size, his wide shoulders, it all reminds me of Adam. Am I going crazy?
“I’m going to let go of your hands, okay?” Ronan says, drawing my attention back to him and away from the guy.
I want to protest, but Ronan gently slides his hands out of mine, spins around, and joins me to my left. “You’re looking great,” he says, his eyes on my feet as I glide the blades across the ice like we’ve been practicing. Surprisingly, I feel pretty steady.
I allow myself to briefly glance back at the guy, noting that he’s gone again.
“You’re a natural at this,” Ronan says, making me smile now.
“I have a good coach,” I say in a flirty tone, and his eyes lift toward mine. He smiles at me and, right on cue, I lose my footing and fall, landing straight on my butt.
Ronan’s blades scrape to a sudden halt. “Are you okay?” he asks, grabbing my hands, helping me back up.
“Fine,” I respond, and wipe my wet bottom. “I just got distracted by you.”
“I have to admit, it’s a nice change. Usually I’m the one getting distracted by you,” he says, grinning. Then he pulls me toward him and kisses me softly.
“Hmm, well, I think I need a little break,” I say against his lips, and carefully slide toward the dasher board. “Go ahead, let me see what you got,” I tell Ronan as Vada and Steve pass us for the umpteenth time.
“Yeah, little brother, let her see what you got,” Steve yells at Ronan as he passes him, smacking him hard on the back.
Ronan takes off after his brother at neck-breaking speeds. Steve speeds up, breaking from Vada, who skates over to me and gets off the ice.
“Is this what they do?” I ask her, watching Ronan’s every move, how he zips around Steve and the other people. It’s thrilling as hell, and I decide right then and there that I’m going to go watch him play actual games.
“Yep,” Vada says, her eyes glued to Steve. “I wish you had been here when Steve was still on the team, because the two of them together were pretty incredible. I don’t know if it’s some brother thing or whatever, but Steve had more assists to Ronan’s scores than anyone else, and vice versa. It was pretty hot,” she adds, and bumps me playfully.
Finally, Ronan makes his way back over to us. He brakes, scraping his blades against the ice, and it looks like he made snow.
“Do you feel like trying a little more, or do you want to call it a day?” he asks me as he steps effortlessly off the ice. I swear, I can’t tell which comes easier to him, walking or skating.
“Honestly, I think I’m good for my first time,” I admit. “My butt is wet.”
There’s a naughty little gleam in Ronan’s eyes, though he doesn’t say anything. Instead he takes my hand and leads me back to the warm room where we’re met, minutes later, by Vada and Steve. I put on my shoes while Ronan takes my skates back to the rental window, and I meet him there on the way back to Steve’s car.
The four of us decide to grab some burgers at a small burger joint in our neighborhood before we make our way back to Ronan and Steve’s house.
***
“What time are you heading to work?” I ask Ronan when we’re up in his room a little while later. I’m lounging on his comfortable bed, facing Ronan who’s next to me, his hand grazing up and down my arm softly.
“In about an hour,” he says, his eyes on my lips.
I smile. “You want to kiss me, don’t you?” I whisper.
His eyes briefly flicker to mine before settling on my lips again. “Very much.”
“What’s stopping you?” I ask, and scoot closer to him.
His hand slides off my arm and to my hip before he pulls me in toward him. “Honestly?” he starts, and laughs. “This. It’s always this.” He pulls his phone out of his back pocket. I didn’t realize his phone was buzzing. He takes a quick glance at the screen, his smile widening even more. “Sorry, baby, I’m going to take this really quick.”
He sits up next to me on his bed. “Hi, Morai,” he answers, his voice light. I have no idea who he’s talking to, but he doesn’t appear too concerned with privacy because he doesn’t move from my side. His right hand still rests on my hip, or more like my butt cheek. I try not to eavesdrop, but it’s unavoidable.
“I’m fine,” Ronan continues, and looks at me, smiling. “But it’s not a great time, actually.”
He pauses for a moment while the person on the other end says something, and Ronan chuckles. “I sort of have company.” He moves his hand to my cheek, continuing to smile at me. He doesn’t break eye contact with me even while talking to this Morai person.
He chuckles in a low tone. “Yes, a girl. Her name is Cat. No, not Catherine. Just Cat. With a C. Yep, like the pet,” he says and rolls his eyes at me, which makes me giggle. “Uh-huh,” he continues, his voice taking on a gravelly tone. “She’s my girlfriend, Morai.”
Ronan is full-on laughing now, and I cock my head to the side, analyzing him. “What? You want me to describe her to you?” His smile becomes even wider. “She’s perfect, Morai. She has beautiful hazel eyes with these amazing gold specks in them. Really long eyelashes and the most gorgeous face—full lips and high cheekbones. She has long legs and delicate features and long, soft blonde hair. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, Morai. And she is so incredibly good to me.” Ronan’s voice is so soft as he describes me, his eyes never leaving mine. I can’t tell if he’s describing me to me or to the person on the other line on the phone, but I lean in and kiss his lips softly. I pull back and notice that Ronan’s eyes are closed while he continues to talk. “Okay,” Ronan sighs. “Yeah, I promise. Love you, too.”
He opens his eyes, then hangs up the phone.
I look at Ronan expectantly, hoping he’ll finally enlighten me as to the identity of this mysterious caller.
“That was my grandmother,” he says, grinning from ear to ear, and my face breaks into a smile. “She calls me about once a month to check up on me.”
“I love that,” I say, meaning it. “Is her name Morai?”
“No, that’s the Irish nickname for ‘grandma,’” he explains. “She was really interested to hear about you,” he chuckles.
