4: UNWANTED GUEST

1014 Words
LISA The amount of sleep I'm getting feels nice, but for some reason, there isn't the usual pack commotion; that can't be possible. My eyes snap open, scanning my surroundings. This isn't my room. I'm in a dark-themed room with a few touches of white. Looking down, I notice I'm lying naked with nothing but a large duvet covering me. Recalling the events of last night, I feel my cheeks heat up. Instead of the typical pack house commotions, Ronan's arms envelop me in the quiet room, with only the sounds of his light breathing and his musky cedar-wood scent calming my nerves. Turning to face him, I find him looking even more charming in his sleep, lashes cascading his face. My eyes linger on his bare chest adorned with tattoos. I knew he has a tattoo, but I've never seen it this close. A huge flower design on the left side of his chest catches my attention. It looks like a rare flower, yet it seems familiar. I don't know, but I've seen it somewhere. I bring my hand to his chest, placing a finger on the tattoo, but a surge of electricity at the little contact makes my stomach churn. We both feel the jolt because his body tenses, and I quickly remove my hand, glancing at the alarm clock reading five in the morning. The normal time for my chores to begin, but today I feel a little weak. After last night, I deserve a break. Leaving after what we did might send the wrong message to Ronan. I wouldn't want him thinking I regret what happened between us last night and ran away, not after he told me he loves me. I don't need a mirror to know my cheeks are redder than tomatoes. I wrap my arms tighter around his waist, and he pulls me closer. My head on his chest, I feel like the luckiest girl alive. I smile as the warmth of his body lulls me back to sleep, knowing that I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here, in his arms. When I wake up later, Ronan isn't in bed with me, but the sounds of pots and pans clashing reach my ears, indicating he's in the kitchen. After a quick shower, I dress in one of Ronan's t-shirts and sweatpants because he ripped my clothes off me last night, and I don't have spare clothes with me. With no hairdryer, I leave my damp hair falling down my back. As I contemplate going downstairs, I don't know what to expect or how to act around him. I don't know if I should act like nothing happened and be normal, yes I should act normal have never had s*x with anyone so I don’t how this all works, I don’t know what to say if I should say anything to him or no? God! This is all so stressful. I feel my heart racing as I walk around the room, beads of sweat running down my neck. It must be hot in here; maybe I should open the windows. When I pull the curtain, a beautiful ocean view greets me from the floor-length window, the sun casting sparkling reflections on the water as seagulls soar through the sky. "Do you like the view?" a deep masculine voice asks, and my head snaps to the direction of it. Ronan, leaning against the door frame in nothing but shorts. If I thought his tattoos were impressive when he lying on the bed then now that he’s standing, it's a whole other level. My eyes dart to his perfectly sculpted abs, and I have to fight the urge to run my fingers on them. "Like what you see?" he teases. "What, no!" I quickly reply, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks. I turn my gaze to the window. "If you say so, but I could've sworn—" "Something smells nice down there. Did you cook?" I ask, and he only grins at my weak attempt to change the subject. I feel stupid. Why did I even come up with such a terrible excuse? What do I do? I don't know what to do. Should I stay here, run to the balcony and jump, or walk out of the room? I think walking out of the room would be the most normal thing to do. I should probably go back to the pack house. "Er, I have to go," I mumble as I make a beeline for the door. "Not so fast," he smirks, blocking my way. I maneuver around him, but he smoothly matches my movements, a playful glint in his eyes. "Leaving so soon?" he teases, leaning in a bit closer. My heart stops when I feel the warmth of his proximity, and I fumble for words. "I, uh, just remembered something important. Duty calls," I stumble, my cheeks flushing. Ronan smirks, blocking my path with an amused expression. He leans in a bit closer, his gaze intense. "You're not getting away that easily," he murmurs, his tone sending a shiver down my spine. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "I really should go," I mumble. He leans closer; his lips are a few inches away from mine. We hear the front door downstairs opening, and I freeze in place. The smell of mulberries hits my nose and the only person I think I know with such familiar scent– it's Kyle. "Ronan!" he shouted, coming up the stairs, yep that is definitely Kyle. "You're not still sleeping, are you?" The sound of his steps getting closer. "I can't believe you're still sleeping on your big day." He's probably a few steps away from the room, and now I'm freaking out. I can't get caught in Ronan's place, much less in his room and wearing his clothes. I'm so dead. If Kyle finds me here, he'll probably tell, and if words get to the alpha, it will be officially over for me. I try moving, but my feet are stuck in place.
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