Chapter Thirteen
Ronan
“Have ye any idea how bad you’ve fucked this, Fitz?” Crow asks again.
I focus my attention on the dog in my lap, the one staring at me with the big brown eyes.
“I don’t know where the bleeding hell your head’s at lately,” he continues. “Are ye trying to get yourself killed?”
I don’t answer.
Mack walks down the hallway and sits down on the sofa beside me. She hasn’t let Crow out of her sight since that night he fought for her. I still don’t particularly care for her, but I do believe she’s proved to be loyal to Crow now.
“It’s a nice place you got here, Ronan,” she says. “Although, it could do with a woman’s touch.”
The dog in my lap barks in agreement, and Mack smiles.
“I didn’t take you for a dog person,” she says.
“I’m not,” I tell her.
Crow is staring at the two of us, shaking his head.
“Do ye have any other pressing concerns to discuss?” he asks. “How about the shade of your curtains? I don’t think it suits the goddamn sofa.”
Mack laughs. “Cut him some slack, Lach,” she says. “Ronan looks like he’s having a bad day.”
“This is why women don’t attend business meetings,” Crow says in response.
“I wanted to see where he lived,” she argues. “I didn’t realize it was just down the street.”
“You’d do well to forget it,” I tell her. “Nobody else needs to know it.”
Crow glares at me.
“C’mon, Mack. Let’s go.”
“I think I’ll stay here for a bit,” she says. “With my old buddy Ronan. I don’t feel like going to the club just yet.”
Crow glances at me, and I shrug. I don’t want her here, but I’ve learned to pick my battles with this one.
“You’ll bring her along after?” he asks.
“Aye.”
“Have Rory come too,” Crow says. “I don’t want you going out alone until we find Andrei.”
“I don’t need a bleeding escort,” I reply.
“It wasn’t a request,” Crow answers.
Mack walks him to the door where they participate in another display of shite I have no need to see. So I busy myself in the kitchen feeding the dog until he’s gone. But if I was hoping for a respite from Mack, she isn’t giving me one.
“Whatcha doing?” she asks as she sits down at the table.
“Feeding the dog.”
“Obviously.” She laughs. “So what’s the deal with you and Sash?”
I blink at her, wondering what she knows. All of the things Sasha could have told her filter through my head, and it makes me angry. She’s laughing at me. Because I embarrassed myself.
“Relax, Ronan,” Mack says. “It’s just that I’ve noticed you’ve both been more screwy than usual lately. I mean I know she has a reason, with her mom and all. But what’s the deal?”
“I don’t know.”
I haven’t any idea why I’m even indulging her with this line of questioning. But there is a part of me, a small part of me, that wants to ask her some things. I take the box of donuts from the cupboard and set them on the table. When Mack spots them, she grins and it makes me uncomfortable.
“Did you know I was coming?” she asks.
“Crow told me.”
“And you bought me donuts,” she coos. “Aw, Ronan, you’re the best.”
She springs up on her feet and tries to hug me. I bat her away.
“I sent Conor out for them this morning. Go hug him.”
The next minute, she’s sitting at the table shoveling a donut into her mouth.
“Look,” she says between mouthfuls. “You can talk to me, Ronan, you know? You don’t even have to bribe me with donuts although it certainly does help.”
I sit down across from her and fold my hands. I don’t even know where to begin. Or what to say.
“Just one sentence,” Mack insists. “The first thing that comes to your mind. And go.”
“I don’t know what she wants,” I tell her.
“Well that’s easy.” She shrugs. “She wants you silly.”
I look up at her and scrub my face.
“What I mean is,” I clear my throat. “I don’t know what she likes.”
Mack stops chewing and stares at me. Shame washes over me and I look away.
“Ronan,” she says in a voice that’s too high. “You’re blushing!”
I don’t reply. I think she’s going to laugh at me, but she doesn’t.
“Have you tried asking her?” Mack continues.
“No.”
“Right,” she snorts. “Because you’re… well, you.”
“Ye’re a girl…” I tell her.
“A woman,” she corrects. “But yes. I am of the female variety.”
“What do people like you want?” I ask.
“You mean women?” she smiles. “That’s a timeless question, Ronan. And one that you’ll never have the answer to. It changes every five minutes, and if you try to figure it out, you’ll just go mad.”
I nod because I suspected as much.
“Ronan, I was joking,” she laughs. “Sheesh, you’re so serious all the time. Just relax, will you?”
Silence falls between us, and I find myself wishing she’d gone with Crow. This is pointless.
“Look,” Mack says. “I can’t tell you what Sasha likes, because everyone is different. And even so, I think you kind of have to figure it out together. You know, it takes… like practice.”
She makes a face as she says it, and my cheeks burn.
“Do you know what I love about Lachlan?” she asks.
“What?”
“He just takes charge. He does what he wants. And he does it unapologetically. He doesn’t ask for permission to kiss me. He just does. If you’re so wrapped up in wondering if every little thing you do is wrong or right, then it’s not going to be enjoyable for either of you.”
“But what if she doesn’t fancy it?”
“Then she’ll tell you. And you fix it. Simple. It’s all about communication, Ronan, which I know isn’t your strong suit. But you can’t expect to figure all this shit out telepathically. You’ve got to put yourself out there a bit.”
The dog jumps into my lap again, and Mack reaches for another donut.
“But I will tell you one thing though, Fitz. If you want to make a play for Sash, you better do it soon. Girlfriend’s getting ready to pack her bags and get outta dodge, and I can’t say I blame her.”
“I have no idea what any of that means,” I tell her.
Mack groans and brushes the crumbs from her hands. “We have a lot of work to do, Ronan.”