The Life That Mattered (Life #1)(27)

The covers were pulled back on the other side of my bed, so Ronin must have stayed with me. Lucky him.

I smelled coffee but couldn’t bring myself to make the walk of shame quite yet. He had the day off, as did I, so there was no need to rush anything. Instead, I took a shower, brushed my teeth, and wrapped up in my plush hot pink bathrobe before padding down the hardwood floor hallway to the kitchen. A fire crackled in my wood-burning stove.

“Hey,” I said, twisting my face into a cringe.

Ronin glanced up from the sofa and his book. He read all the time. Actual paperback books on everything from history to autobiographies to fictional suspense. “Good morning.”

His shirtless body engulfed the length of my sofa, which wasn’t fair. The urge to be mad at him clung to my ego. But there he was, shirtless, in a pair of black lounge pants sitting inappropriately low on his waist. Inappropriate because he knew those fancy carved abs and happy trail temptation were my kryptonite, which sent my thoughts into some pretty inappropriate territory—just like the tattooed symbols down the right side of his torso. He said they represented life and second chances. I felt pretty sure it was the name of an old girlfriend in a language I couldn’t read.

The teapot was already hot. I tossed a tea bag into a mug and filled it with water. Warm oatmeal waited for me in a sauce pan, so I dished up a small bowl of it as well.

“You can sit by me. I took a shower last night and scrubbed all the makeup and Vanessa smell from my body,” he said as I started to sit in the recliner across from the sofa.

“You should put on a shirt.”

He smirked. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” I chose the recliner over the sofa.

He scratched his chest, then lower … then just under the waistband of his pants.

Jerk!

I sipped my tea and ate my oatmeal while Ronin resumed reading his book.

“You make me want to stay,” he said without looking up from his book. If I hadn’t been the only other person in the room, I’m not sure I would have known he was talking to me.

Setting my tea and oatmeal on the coffee table, I hugged my arms to my chest. There had been this gradual shift between us over the previous weeks.

A slipping.

A falling …

I’d watch TV and stroke his hair while he rested his head on my lap, reading a book. He hummed and whispered, “I love that.”

I knew he loved more than that.

Whenever his schedule allowed, he dusted the snow from my car and started it for me, waiting by the driver’s door with a hot thermos after I closed up shop. A grin stole my face as I took the thermos and brushed my lips over his. “I love this,” I whispered.

He knew I loved more than that.

Ronin eyed me as my thoughts drifted to all the things we loved about each other. I was supposed to go see my mom and grandma that day, but … it was early. Ronin said something that couldn’t go unexplained. I made him want to stay. What did that mean? Before I asked him to elaborate, I had some explaining to do too.

“I’ve never been jealous before,” I said to nothing in particular, focusing over the sofa to the front window like he spoke to his book.

Ronin slid a ripped strip of paper—his makeshift bookmark—between the pages of his book.

“I’ve had other boyfriends, but I’ve never felt like I did yesterday. Here’s the ugly truth, and I’m not one bit proud of it or even trying to defend my actions—they are on all accounts unjustified and without any defenses. A simple case of this human behaving badly. Yesterday, I hit a low point after I lost my ski. Then this pretty woman brought a sled so you could haul your terrible-skier girlfriend down the mountain. And she ruffled your hair.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head. “Yes. It was a hair ruffling. And it’s your hair not mine. But I wanted to claw her eyes out for touching you. Then she retold the story last night. And it is funny, but it wasn’t funny coming from her. It wasn’t funny to me that she took every opportunity to touch you. Granted, I don’t really know her. My anger was at myself for feeling that way, for feeling like you’d see something great in her during one of my not-so-finer moments. Confidence is sexy. God knows it drew me to you because you are the epitome of confident. But last night, I was the least confident person in the bar, which made me feel like the least desirable person. And that really sucked.”

Ronin rubbed the back of his neck, gaze glued to the coffee table between us, his brow a little wrinkled. “I had an accident when I was twelve. An electrical shock.” He held up his hand to show me the scar I’d asked about several weeks after we met. At the time, he shrugged and said, “Just a boy being a boy.”

He continued, “It caused some speech issues for a while. Kids made fun of me. It was a blow to my confidence. I felt like my friends were embarrassed of me. For months I was the least confident person in every room. So … I get it.”

Ronin glanced up at me while sitting up straight. “Maybe you learn to ski. Maybe you don’t. I have no fucks to give about it because for the first time in a long time, I can’t wait to take off my gear and find you at the end of every day. Before you, I was the first to work. The first one making tracks after a fresh round of snow. Now … I show up on time for work. Not too early, but not late. Just on time because it’s impossible to leave you in the morning. I want one more kiss. One more minute just to look at you. One more smile. One more whisper of my name ‘Roe …’ from your beautiful lips. Roe … no one has ever called me that. And when you say it, I feel like the goddamn king of the world. I want this, and I’ve never wanted anything more than seeking the next adventure. But you … you make me want to stay.”