CAUIS
Ronan looks like he’s about to swing at me before he storms out of the kitchen, footsteps loud enough to shake the damn floor.
I grit my teeth, lean back in the chair, and let out a slow breath. Maddox is still posted against the counter, dish towel in his hand, smirk plastered across his face like he’s been waiting for this scene all week.
“You sure do know how to tick him off,” Maddox says, tone half amusement, half accusation.
My jaw ticks. “The feeling’s mutual,” I mutter.
Truth is, I never really figured out why Ronan hates me so much. It’s not like I’ve ever had a problem with Maddox. Him and me—we get along fine, considering he’s his twin. Different personalities, yeah, but it works. Ronan, though? Ronan acts like just breathing the same air as me is a personal insult. On
