@RonanFitz: My phone keeps whistling at me. Anybody know how to shut it up?

@Irenelovesrugby: @RonanFitz If I were your phone, I’d be whistling at you too, sexy ;-) :-* <3 :-P

@RonanFitz: @Irenelovesrugby Something wrong with your keyboard, darlin. Shitload of nonsense at the end there.

 

 

*Ronan*

“Loooook, darling brother, I brought you a gift,” Lucy singsonged as she came into my room and draped a blue and green scarf around my neck. I took a glance at the label and saw it cost over two hundred dollars.

I let out a low whistle and said, “Pricey. What’s this for?”

She perched on the edge of my bed and crossed one leg over the other. “I thought a gift might cheer you up.”

I was sitting in a chair by the desk at the window, pathetically reading through all of the emails I’d swapped with Annie, aka The Socialmedialite, and trying to find a clue as to why she might’ve withdrawn. In other words, I was moping.

“And I thought you believed that happiness can’t be found through material possessions,” I countered, arching a brow.

Something passed over her face, but it was gone in an instant. Now she was smiling. “Ah, that’s true, but it doesn’t count for gift giving. Studies have actually proven that we derive far more happiness from buying things for other people than we do buying for ourselves.”

“Yeah, well, a scarf isn’t going to make me feel better,” I said and ran a hand down my face. “I really thought I’d made a breakthrough with Annie, and then she just rushes off like that during breakfast.” In all honesty, it was taking every ounce of my willpower not to go over to her place because thinking of her spending even a second with that overly coiffed dickhead of a neighbor made me want to break something, preferably his smug face.

Lucy sucked in a deep breath, and her words came out in a hurried, whispered tumble. “You know, I couldn’t say anything in front of Ma at the restaurant earlier, but I don’t think Annie’s rushing off had anything to do with her feelings for you. It wasn’t your fault. Ma was an absolute cow to her. She first insinuated that Annie was with you for the money, and then she…well, she made it sound like you’re not....”

I held my breath; I didn’t even blink. When Lucy didn’t continue, I pressed, “Like I’m not what?”

Lucy huffed, “Like you have ‘commitment issues,’ like you don’t believe in monogamy.”

I got up abruptly from my chair, jaw clenching, temper rising.

“She did what?” I asked, my voice low in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, but it’s what she said. You’re always away, whether you’re travelling with the team or coming to New York for a break. You don’t spend time with Ma the way that I do. You get her in small, palatable doses.” Her voice grew sad as she looked down at her hands in her lap. “Besides, you’re, like, her favorite person, so obviously she’s going to be nice to you. You don’t see the side of her that the rest of us see.”

Frowning, I walked toward her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Has she been giving you trouble?”

Lucy scoffed, but it seemed forced. “Hardly. Her remarks have just gotten worse the last few years. Before then, you were always around to temper her moods.”

“That’s not on. I’m going to have a word with her.”

“No, don’t….”

Lucy grabbed my wrist to try to pull me back, but I was already marching from the room. I found Ma in the lounge going through a bunch of shopping bags she’d just brought back. She and Lucy had spent the day enjoying some retail therapy. When they’d arrived the other night, Ma had said she was desperately worried about me over the whole Brona thing, and that’s why she’d dropped everything to come see me. Now I was beginning to wonder if she’d just wanted to enjoy the shopping opportunities New York provided and stick her nose in my business with Annie.

“What do you think you’re playing at, talking to Annie like that?”

She didn’t look up from her treasures as she asked, “Has Lucy been telling tales?”

“What exactly did you say to her?”

When she did glance up, she gave me a placid look like I was being overdramatic and took her time setting the Louis Vuitton bag aside before answering me. “Oh, Ronan, come sit down. I only have your best interests at heart.”

“No, you obviously don’t. If you did, you’d be treating Annie like a queen rather than sniping at her behind my back. That girl is everything to me, so you’re going to have to accept her. Jesus, the shit she’s been through, and you go and pull a stunt like this.” I was wracked with worry, furiously running my hand through my hair, trying to figure out a way to apologize to Annie.

Ma scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Please, I’m sure whatever she’s told you is a web of lies concocted to solicit your sympathy. Girls like Annie see men like you coming from a mile away. Believe me, I know.”

“Girls like Annie?”

“You know, the ones that rely on their looks and their horizontal talents.”

Something in me snapped. “God give me patience, you haven’t a clue. So in future, you can keep your mouth shut and your nose out of it. I’m going out. If you want dinner, you can order something in.”

I grabbed my shoes from where I’d left them by the door to the room and pulled them on, giving her my back.

I heard her sniff then take a shaky breath.

I ignored her dramatics and continued, “Oh, yeah, and take it easy on Lucy, would you? She’s your daughter and the only female friend you have, so quit giving her shit all the time. She’s a great girl.”

I made the mistake of glancing toward her. My mother’s eyes were watering, and she looked at me like I’d struck her, like I’d betrayed her.

Just. Fucking. Fantastic.

I didn’t want to apologize. Hell, I had no reason to apologize. So I turned from her watery gaze and marched to the door. I was just about to leave when she spoke up, and I could hear the falling tears in her voice. “I’m sorry—I’ve been missing you, that’s all,” she called after me, her words ending on a sob.

I loved my mother to pieces; but she was a master manipulator, and I knew the crying jag was her way of getting me to feel sorry for her. No matter how angry I was, I couldn’t walk away from her when she crying; I just didn’t have it in me.

“Fuck,” I swore and walked back to her, flopping down beside her and pulling her in for a hug. “The next time you’re around Annie just be nice to her, okay? She’s an amazing woman, and I really think you’ll like her once you give her a chance.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again, and I patted her on the back before standing up. “I really don’t know what I could have said that upset her so much.”

I ignored this statement because it sounded false. “I really need to get out for a while. I’m going stir-crazy sitting in this place all day.”

She nodded, and I gave her once last reassuring look before I left. I’d hardly made it to the street before my phone started ringing. I pulled it out immediately, hoping it was Annie. Disappointment struck when I saw it wasn’t a number I recognized. I answered, and Joan began talking down the line immediately.

“Okay, so I’ve just been in a video conference with your people back in Ireland. As you’re probably aware, the Sportsperson of the Year Awards are taking place in Dublin next weekend, and the organizers would like you to go and present an award. As well, we’ve arranged several additional public appearances. You’ll be there for three weeks at least. Apparently, they’re on your side in relation to the bad press surrounding your ex. Rachel and Ian have been working around the clock finding ways to discredit her. We have quite a laundry list compiled. No need to thank them—Brona has made it quite easy. Also, the ceremony will be a great way for you to initiate your return to the team, get your picture in the magazines and such. I’m going to arrange for Annie to accompany you. You’ll leave on Thursday morning and fly back to New York on Sunday. That gives you a couple of days to prepare. Sound good?”

I laughed. “Did you even breathe during all that, Joan?”

“I’m a busy woman,” she replied, a smile in her voice. “Now, are you on board for this or not?”

“Yeah, I’m on board,” I answered. I didn’t relish the idea of going home so soon, but several weeks alone with Annie all to myself was too good an opportunity to pass up. She clearly didn’t want to be around me right now, but I didn’t think she’d say no to Joan. After she passed on a few more details, I hung up and typed out a message to Annie.

 

Ronan: Lucy told me what Ma said to you. I’m so sorry. She was way out of line. We need to talk. I’m going to call you in a minute, so please pick up.

 

I crossed the street and walked inside the park, finding a bench and sitting down. Then I dialed Annie’s number. No answer. I tried again twice, but there was still no answer, so I sent another text.

 

Ronan: Please tell me you were lying about Kurt. I’m going crazy here. I can’t stand the thought of you with him. With anyone. Please pick up. I never beg, but I’ll beg for you, Annie.

 

After several more attempts to call her, I hung up. She was shutting me out.

I ended up taking a cab to Tom’s. The place was crowded and busy, but he made time to sit with me and listen to my woes. For the second day in a row, I found myself drinking; and it’s embarrassing to admit because I certainly didn’t look like a lightweight, but I was tipsy by the time I got to my second beer. I’d been living so clean, putting my health and fitness first, that my body wasn’t used to alcohol. Tom had to take my phone off me when I tried to drunk-dial Annie.

It wasn’t like she was going to pick up anyway.

Later on he brought me back to the penthouse, and Ma looked horrified to see I’d been drinking. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take a small amount of pleasure in that. She’d screwed things up for me with Annie, so I wasn’t feeling so warm toward her right then.

The next morning I woke up with a thumping headache. It was safe to say this was the first time I’d experienced a hangover in a long while. Even after all the drama of my breakup with Brona, I never hit the bottle. I was being ridiculous. After some exercise and a nourishing breakfast, I decided to try a different tack and emailed The Socialmedialite.

 

March 23

10:07 a.m.

Dear SML,

Here lies the message of a desperate man.

I need your advice. It saddens me to admit that I’m having woman troubles. I’m crazy about Annie, but she’s not taking my calls. We were getting along great, but then my mother showed up for an impromptu visit and said some harsh stuff to her, all of which was complete bullshit. My mother can be possessive and overprotective, but that doesn’t excuse her behavior. In a nutshell, Annie’s feelings were hurt, and she ended things. I need to make this right, but I have no idea what to do. You’re a woman—tell me how women think, what they need.

Your suggestions are much appreciated.

Ronan

 

After stewing for a minute or two, I hit “send” and waited. And waited. And then waited some more. Deciding that a watched pot never boils, I went and took a run around the park. I was going overboard with the exercise, but it was the only thing that channeled my restless energy. I had REO Speedwagon blaring on my iPod in an effort to drown out my thoughts.

I spotted a group of college guys playing a game of rugby and offered to join in. A couple of them actually recognized me and were over the moon to have me take part. All of Annie’s teachings must have been rubbing off on me because I took the opportunity to take a picture with them and posted it to Instagram.

 

@RonanFitz: Saw these boys in the park. Decided to join them for a match.

 

I felt weird and stilted in the way I wrote the caption, but I just didn’t know how to insert my personality into the post. Still, after only a couple of minutes, the picture had thousands of “likes,” and people were commenting on how they wished they could be there. A bunch of people who were in the area even came by to watch. It surprised the shit out of me. I’d never tried anything like this before, never knew the influence a single picture could have. I mean, people who had seen the picture came to watch the game, and they were actually nice to me, offering compliments and words of support.

We all got very excited to have an audience, and things got a little over-enthusiastic between me and the boys. I walked away with a couple of bruises, but for the first time in a long while, I felt good about the sport. I’d been so angry about what the fame had brought into my life that I’d almost forgotten how much I loved to just play, be a part of a team, enjoy the sense of competition and camaraderie.

And, to be completely honest, I loved the brutality of it. Though it was a match, it was real in a way real life isn’t. You hit, you scrum, you fight, you kick and punch and beat the living shit out of each other, and it’s glorious. Everyone knows the point. Everyone knows the goal. There’s no second-guessing, and there are no pulled punches.

After the match, I signed a bunch of autographs and talked to the people who’d shown up. I declined going to the pub for an obligatory beer. By the time I got home, I was exhausted but in a good way.

“Where have you been all day?” Ma asked when I arrived at the penthouse. There was a hint of annoyance in her voice that said she was looking for a fight, but I wasn’t going to engage her.

“Out,” I replied shortly and walked down the hall to my room.

“Well, that’s you told,” Lucy chuckled from where she’d been lounging on the sofa reading a magazine.

“Shut up, you,” Ma snapped, and I heard her heels clicking on the wood floor before the front door opened and shut, signaling her departure.

I opened up my laptop to find a response from The SML.

 

March 23

5:22 p.m.

Hi, Ronan,

I don’t remember ever telling you I was female. Still, if you want my advice, here it is:

If Annie needs space, give her space. From the stories about her so far in the press, she sounds like a sensitive girl, and perhaps cooling things off for a while could be a good thing. Maybe your relationship was too much too quickly.

Perhaps the harshness from your mother was a bit of a wake-up call, a good reminder that you belong to a lot of people—and not just your family. Think about it. She’s a normal girl living a normal life. She’s not used to people with cameras following her everywhere she goes. Perhaps it’s not that her feelings for you have changed, but more that all of it—meeting your family, dating a celebrity—is just overwhelming.

I don’t have much more to offer than that.

Of note, I’m going to be away on vacation for the next ten days, so I’ll be out of touch.

Yours,

The SML

P.S. I saw you’ve been a bit of an Instagram sensation today. I think it’s safe to say you’re officially embracing my way of life. Well done! Plus, you must not be so brokenhearted. People were posting lots of pictures of the game in the park, and it looked like you were having a fantastic time:-)

 

Okay, so she was definitely being passive-aggressive with that last bit. And now I really regretted ever having played that game today. I must have been experiencing a moment of stupidity when I neglected to realize that Annie, being the online wizard that she was, would see the picture I’d posted.

I wanted to write something in reply, but I didn’t see the point. My entire plan had backfired. I’d futilely hoped that Annie would reply with some suggestions on winning her back like, I don’t know, showing up outside her place and butchering a love song or something.

Her advising me in a roundabout way to back the fuck off was not my desired outcome. Also, the idea that she was overwhelmed by the media circus that was my life hurt. I wanted her by my side, but I didn’t want her to feel harangued.

So I moped around for the rest of the evening. Lucy tried her best to cheer me up, but it was a hopeless mission. I was wallowing like a lovesick fool. When Ma got home, she was clearly in a huff with me because she went straight to the guest room without so much as a word.

The following morning, while I was sitting by the counter eating breakfast, my phone buzzed with a text. My heart thudded when I saw it was from Annie.

 

Annie: Joan wants us seen together today. Gerta is forwarding you details on where to meet me for lunch. It’s a health food café, so I’m presuming you’ll be able to eat what’s on the menu.

 

Her text was so cold and businesslike, and the underlying message was clear as day: This is all for the cameras. My gut sank, but I didn’t allow myself to lose hope. The fact that she was agreeing to see me at all was a good sign.

A few hours later, I was dressed in a dark grey shirt and a nice pair of jeans.

“Where are you off to?” Ma asked as she sipped on her coffee where she sat in the lounge area.

“I’m meeting Annie for lunch. I’ll see you later,” I replied, and she started getting up from her seat.

“Oh, great, I’ll come with you then. I’m starving, and it’ll give me the chance to apologize.”

I held up a hand. “No, Ma, you can’t come. You can, however, apologize to Annie, but we’ll plan for that another time.”

Before she could say another word, I was out the door.

***

I saw Annie as I approached the café. She was sitting in the outdoor section as she waited for me, her long hair down and tossed over one shoulder. I noticed she was wearing one of her older baggy brown cardigans covering a pretty flower-print dress beneath. The fact that she was wearing the cardigan made me think she wasn’t feeling so special. She didn’t want to be noticed today.

Fuck, there was no way I’d ever not notice her. I thought back to our first meeting and how I’d lasciviously planned on making her a new notch on my bedpost. A temporary though very lovely distraction. It was almost like some higher power was playing a sick joke on me because now I couldn’t imagine my life without her.

“Hey,” I said, hardly recognizing my own voice, it was so tentative. I couldn’t believe it, but I was nervous. I was never nervous. She stood when she saw me, and I leaned forward, placing my hand on her shoulder and kissing her lightly on the cheek. She smelled incredible. I’d missed her so badly that it was almost too much to be this close to her. “You look beautiful,” I murmured in her ear, trying to ignore the gaggle of photographers across the street snapping shots.

Annie cleared her throat. “Thank you.”

We sat down then, and I didn’t know what to say. This was my opportunity to apologize for my mother, and I wanted it to be perfect. I scanned the menu for a minute, and then the waitress came to take our order. Once she was gone, I leaned across the table and placed my hand over Annie’s. Her skin was soft and warm, so lovely. I missed the feel of her. My body practically hummed with the need to touch her everywhere all at once.

“I’m only letting you keep your hand there for the cameras,” Annie said quietly, dragging her teeth anxiously across her lower lip. I ducked my head to catch her eyes.

“How are you feeling, love?”

For a second, she seemed taken aback by the tenderness in my voice. If she thought I was pissed at her for staying away, for not answering my calls, then she was dead wrong. I could never be angry at her. I was too infatuated to be angry.

“I’m okay. Busy with work and all,” she answered and reached for her glass of water to take a sip.

“And Kurt, right?”

I knew I wasn’t imagining things when I saw her wince. “I think we both know I’m not interested in Kurt.”

I squeezed her hand in silent thanks, knowing it took a lot for her to say that, to give me that small consolation. Then I let out a long breath. “I need to apologize for my mother’s behavior,” I said and began rubbing my thumb across her skin. “She was way out of line talking to you like she did. I’ve already set her straight, and she’s sorry. She wants to apologize in person, too….”

“I’d rather she didn’t.” Annie lifted her eyes to mine and stared at me for a long moment; I felt and saw something like steel, a stern resolve in her expression as she continued, “I don’t wish to be rude, but your mother is…well, I don’t believe it’s possible for us to reach any kind of friendly understanding. I have a hard time being around people like her. I’ve organized my life to avoid confrontations, and I have no desire to meet or see her again. Anyway, it was probably for the best, what she said. It helped me realize that what’s been going on between us could never work.”

I opened my mouth to disagree with her, but she held up her hand.

“P-please, just let me speak. The real issue isn’t what your mother said or whether it is true. The point is that we come from entirely different worlds. I mean, I don’t mind being your temporary fake girlfriend for a couple of weeks, but I couldn’t handle it forever. I don’t know what I was thinking. I need to return to normality eventually. Everyday encounters with people are difficult for me. I wouldn’t survive living in the spotlight. I’m not strong like you. I thrive on anonymity.”

I tightened my grip on her hand, my voice laced with emotion. “Don’t do this. How often do people find a connection like we have? I’ll protect you. I’ll keep the press away. Hell, I’ll even give up playing rugby if it means we can be together.”

Her lips parted, and she blinked at me in surprise. I’d startled her. It took her a moment to recover, and when she did I could see that I’d rattled her cage. “Y-you love what you do. I would never ask you to give it up.”

“Just because I’m not playing professionally doesn’t mean I can’t play at all. Anyway, I’m getting old. I’m almost at retirement age now, you know,” I joked and mustered a smile. “Please, Annie, just give us a chance.”

“It’s better this way.” Her eyes cut to the table, and she shook her head as though convincing herself. “At least if we go no further, then we’ll never know what we’re missing. We avoid the pain.”

I flattened my mouth, my tone turning serious. “I know what I’m missing, Annie. You are singular to me, exceptional. You’re brilliant and adorable and so fucking real. I care about you. And I haven’t been able to get the taste of you, the feel of you, out of my head since we first kissed.”

Shakily, she withdrew her hand and put it on her lap under the table. She closed her eyes for a second, obviously mustering the courage to say something. The moment was broken when the waitress arrived with our food. Unsurprisingly, I had no appetite whatsoever.

Annie dug into her sandwich, not meeting my eyes. I took the opportunity to study her. God, she was so beautiful that it was almost a physical sort of torture not to reach out and kiss her. There was something extremely closed off about her today; and disappointingly, I knew a breakthrough wasn’t on the cards, so I decided to let it go for now. I needed to just be content to be spending time with her. Leaning back in my chair, I nudged her foot with mine to get her attention then asked, “Has Joan told you about Dublin?”

She nodded but didn’t speak, chewing on a bite of sandwich.

“Are you going to come?”

Again, all I got was a nod, but it filled my chest with relief. All I needed was this opportunity to get to her, convince her to let her walls down. Once we got to Dublin, I’d have to pull out all the stops.

She gave me a sad look then, her deep brown eyes downturned. Obviously, spending time with me was painful for her. She wanted me, but she wasn’t going to let herself have me. Her look was like a punch to the gut. I hooked both my feet around hers legs and drew her thighs between mine under the table.

“Hey, I’ll behave on this trip. I promise. You don’t have to worry.” Lies. Lies. Lies.

She swallowed, breathing sharply. “Thank you.”

For the rest of the meal, I kept her legs between mine, but she didn’t tell me to stop. She craved the closeness just as much as I did. We ate in quiet companionship, and then too soon we were saying our goodbyes. I didn’t want to let her go.

Therefore, before I could think too much about it, I pulled her against me and brushed my mouth against hers, just a soft touching of lips, really, a whisper of something. In comparison to our previous kisses, it was extremely tame. But when I leaned away, my eyes hungry for her reaction, I wasn’t disappointed.

Annie stared up at me, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright, and her hands white-knuckled fists gripping the front of my shirt. It took her a moment to realize that my hold was undemanding, that I’d basically let her go. Remembering herself, she stepped away, gathering an unsteady breath.

She hesitated.

I waited.

Then she shook her head and walked away.

I watched her go for as long as she was still in view, until she’d turned the corner. It was only Monday, and I couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing her until Thursday. Life was going to be agony.

***

Life was agony, and I was verging on pitiful.

I filled the days with workouts and spent the rest of my time with Lucy. There was still a bit of a frosty atmosphere between Ma and me. Lucy was completely taken with New York, her blue eyes alight with wonder at every new thing she saw. She even proclaimed that she was going to live here one day, ever the dreamer. But I had no doubt she’d make it happen.

She went out of her way to cheer me up, every evening presenting me with new gifts like ties and aftershave and novelty socks. When Thursday morning finally came around, Annie texted me saying she’d meet me at the departure gate. I was disappointed because I’d been hoping to share a cab with her to the airport. I said goodbye to Ma and Lucy, who both had one more day in New York before their flight home, then made my way to JFK. It felt like it took forever to get through security, and when I finally did, I spotted Annie sitting by a window watching planes take off and land out on the runway. She was holding a steaming paper coffee cup in both hands, her ever-present mobile phone sitting on her lap.

She was chewing on her lip when she saw me coming. Not even waiting for me to say hello, she blurted out, “I’ve never been on a plane before.”

I took the seat beside her, eyebrows raised. “Never?”

She shook her head. “Never. Any long distances I’ve had to travel have always been by bus or train. I’m kind of terrified.”

“Do you think you’ll be a nervous flyer?”

“Honestly, I have no idea.” She sounded distracted.

“Well,” I said, blowing out a breath, “I’ll just have to keep you occupied, then, so that you aren’t thinking of it. We’ll play some games, like Twenty Questions or I Never. It’ll be fun.” I reached out and softly squeezed her thigh. Her gaze fixed on my hand until I moved it away. We were booked in first class, which was good since Annie had the look of a rabbit caught in the headlights this morning. Trying to be a gentleman, I asked her if she’d like to sit by the window, but she fervently shook her head no.

I took her hand in mine during takeoff, and she didn’t protest, squeezing her eyes shut the whole time. I watched her closely, ready to calm her at the merest sign of panic. I knew some people went a little bit crazy on airplanes. When she opened her eyes, we were in the air. She glanced past me and out the window.

“Wow,” she breathed, leaning closer and marveling at the clouds and blue sky beyond. You could see the city drifting away beneath us, the buildings tiny in the distance. She was practically sitting on top of me, but I wasn’t complaining, mainly because her breasts were pushing into my arm. I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring her scent and the comfort of having her so close. For a brief moment, I forgot about our emotional distance and just enjoyed being near her.

“Sorry,” she said then and drew away.

I opened my eyes. “No apologies needed, love. You sure you don’t want to sit by the window?”

Unlike before, now she seemed positively elated by the idea. “Yes, please, if you don’t mind,” she enthused, and I grinned, undoing my seatbelt. Our bodies brushed briefly as we switched seats, and she blushed, keeping her gaze on her shoes. For the next hour, Annie was glued to the window, marveling at the sky. It was probably the most charming thing I’d ever witnessed and made me fall that little bit harder for her.

I busied myself with a book and let her enjoy her window-seat view.

Some time elapsed before she got up and excused herself to the bathroom. And yeah, I’m not going to lie, I got a nice look at her arse as she went by me. Today she was wearing jeans and a purple knitted jumper. She didn’t have any makeup on, and her long hair was braided into a side plait. She looked so incredibly natural and fuckable. It was such a sweet torture.

For several short seconds, I was wracked with indecision. I’d told her I’d behave on this trip, but the temptation to follow her was too much. I rose from my seat, smiling amiably at the air hostess as I passed by and made my way to the restrooms. I waited patiently until Annie was done, and then, just as she was stepping out to leave, I got in her way and moved forward, leaving her no other option but to retreat back inside. A moment later I’d flicked the lock, and we were alone.

“Hey,” I murmured as she leaned into the sink and I crowded her space. There was no way to not crowd her space; the toilet was the size of a postage stamp.

She swallowed and moved her lips, drawing my attention to her mouth. It seemed redder and even more plump than usual. Such a temptation.

“What’s going on?” Annie asked, eyes on my shirt collar rather than my face.

“I miss you so fucking much,” I said, my words almost choked, pained. I brought my hands to her hips and slid them around her waist then down to her bottom. She sucked in a quick breath before exhaling. When she finally looked up at me, she was flushed—but not from displeasure. Her eyes were practically glowing.

I drew air in past my teeth before asking, “Oh, Annie, what am I gonna do with you?”