Chapter Eighteen - The First Move
1650 Words
The morning air was soft and warm, drifting through the open windows of Evelyn’s room like a gentle invitation.
She stood at her mirror, fingers trailing over the hem of her shirt as she looked at herself—not just with curiosity now, but with intention.
Her skin still remembered his touch.
His lips.
His patience.
But what stuck most in her memory was how Ronan had looked at her when she kissed him back.
Like she was already everything he wanted.
And today—she wanted him to see her again.
This time, with her own light turned on.
She chose something simple—a fitted tank top, jeans that hugged her hips, hair half-up in a soft twist. No makeup. No armor. Just her.
And that was enough.
She found him out by the storage shed, checking supplies with Maddox, clipboard in hand, sleeves rolled up from the heat. His voice was low, steady, barking an order to one of the younger guys before he turned around—
And then he saw her.
Ronan froze mid-sentence.
Maddox noticed and smirked, patting his shoulder. “I’ll finish this.”
Ronan didn’t look away as Maddox walked off. His eyes tracked her the whole time, unreadable but burning.
Evelyn walked straight up to him, heart pounding but smile soft.
“Hey,” she said, standing in front of him now.
He blinked slowly. “Hey.”
“I was thinking,” she said carefully, “that maybe… I don’t want to wait for another lesson.”
He didn’t move, but his jaw tightened. “Evelyn…”
“I don’t mean—everything,” she added quickly. “Not yet. But I want to try. I want to be close to you. On my own terms.”
Still no movement. His silence was the loudest thing in the yard.
She reached up, fingers brushing the front of his shirt, right over his chest. “You told me you’d match my pace. This is me… taking a step.”
His hand came up, catching hers gently. His eyes were locked on hers now—dark and full of restrained hunger.
“You sure?” he asked, voice low, wrecked.
She nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
And that was it.
He stepped into her space like gravity pulled him there, his hand sliding to the back of her neck, guiding her toward him—but letting her close the gap.
She did.
Her lips met his in a kiss that was firmer this time. More certain. More hers.
And he responded like a man who’d been holding back too long.
This wasn’t about control. Or claiming.
It was about meeting in the middle.
He kissed her with reverence, hands keeping her steady, letting her deepen it. When she tilted her head just right—like she remembered—he made a sound in the back of his throat that sent heat rushing straight through her.
When they finally pulled apart, he didn’t let go. His forehead pressed against hers, breath uneven.
“I’ve never wanted to be careful with someone so badly in my life,” he said quietly.
Evelyn smiled, heart racing but anchored. “You’re already doing it.”
And this time, when she kissed him again—it was with confidence.
Her own.
The second Evelyn walked away—lips still swollen from that kiss, eyes shining with that quietly devastating confidence—Ronan had to take a breath.
A long one.
Then another.
He stood with his hands braced against the steel frame of the shed, back tense, trying to clear the haze in his head.
His body was already ten steps ahead of his brain, playing out scenarios he couldn’t afford to let happen. Not yet. Not like this.
But she’d looked at him like she knew exactly what she wanted.
And f**k if that didn’t make him lose his grip for just a second.
He didn’t hear Maddox return until the man spoke behind him.
“You good?” his VP asked, voice low but knowing.
Ronan didn’t move. “No.”
Maddox let out a quiet chuckle. “She kissed you again?”
Ronan nodded once.
“Yeah,” Maddox said, dragging the word out. “Figured something changed. You look like you’re two seconds from punching a wall or throwing her over your shoulder.”
Ronan finally turned, his jaw set tight. “It’s getting harder, man.”
“Yeah?”
“She’s not holding back anymore,” he said, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “She’s starting to look at me like she’s already made up her mind.”
Maddox gave a slow, impressed nod. “She’s brave. Not surprising. You bring that out in her.”
Ronan ignored the compliment. He was too tightly wound.
“You don’t get it, Maddox. When she looks at me like that… like she trusts me with her body, with herself—my whole damn restraint nearly snaps.”
Maddox didn’t smirk this time. He heard the weight behind it.
“She’s fire you can’t play with recklessly,” Maddox said after a beat. “And you know that. That’s why it’s hard.”
Ronan exhaled sharply, like he’d been holding it in for hours. “I want her. So bad it hurts. But the second I take it too far—if I scare her, if I push her even an inch too fast—I lose everything. I lose her.”
Maddox stepped forward, voice calm, solid. “But you won’t. You’ve already done what most men wouldn’t. You waited. You respected her pace. You’re still doing it.”
Ronan stared off toward the compound, toward the direction Evelyn had gone. “I can’t take much more of her being this close and still untouchable.”
Maddox clapped a hand on his shoulder. “She won’t be untouchable forever. When she’s ready—really ready—she won’t just tell you.”
“She’ll show me.”
“Exactly.”
Ronan gave a dry, humorless laugh. “I hope I survive that.”
Maddox grinned, stepping back. “Better pray I don’t walk in on that. I’ll never let you live it down.”
Ronan’s mouth twitched. Barely.
But the fire behind his eyes hadn’t gone out.
It was still burning.
Controlled.
Barely.
And entirely for her.
Later that evening, after dinner and a quiet moment alone in the hallway with Ronan—where his hand brushed the small of her back and his gaze made her legs feel like liquid—Evelyn walked back into the lounge.
She didn’t even make it past the doorway.
“Sit,” Jules said, pointing to the couch with a look that brooked no argument.
Remy raised a brow from her spot in the armchair, and Dani popped the cap off a bottle of rosé like it was a damn intervention.
Evelyn blinked. “What’s going on?”
“The tension,” Remy said, swirling her wine. “It’s so thick, I nearly choked on it at dinner.”
Jules leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “You’re glowing again. And that man looked at you like he’s been through three tours of emotional warfare.”
Dani added, “He’s walking around like he’s got a bomb in his pants.”
Evelyn turned bright red. “Oh my god.”
“Don’t panic,” Jules said, patting the couch beside her. “Come here. We’re going to talk you through it.”
Evelyn, flustered and curious, sat.
Remy gave her a long look—fond, proud, and a little serious. “We’ve all been there. The slow build. The burn that starts low and doesn’t let up. And the way Ronan looks at you? That man’s going to take his time. But when it happens? It’s going to happen.”
Jules nodded, then leaned in conspiratorially. “So here’s what you need to know, Ev.”
Evelyn swallowed hard, eyes wide.
Jules smiled. “First comes the soft stuff. The touches—nothing rushed. He’ll map you with his hands. Arms, neck, back… then down. Real slow. You’ll feel like your skin’s catching fire.”
Evelyn pressed her knees together instinctively.
“Then,” Jules continued, “the grinding. Clothes on. Frustrating but so hot. He’ll press you into something—wall, bed, him—and you’ll start learning what you sound like when you want more.”
Remy laughed into her glass. “She’s going to die.”
Dani grinned. “Nah. She’ll float.”
Jules leaned closer, her voice velvet-soft now. “And when he knows you’re getting close? When you’re breathing hard and squirming under him?”
Evelyn’s breath caught.
Jules winked. “He’ll go down on you. More than once. Ronan’s not the type to take before he gives.”
Remy nodded. “Trust me. That man will worship you before he even thinks about taking you.”
Evelyn was blushing so hard her ears burned, but she didn’t look away. She listened. Every word soaking in like preparation and prophecy.
“Why are you all so sure?” she asked, voice quiet but steady.
“Because,” Jules said simply, “Ronan’s already showing you. Every kiss, every look, every time he holds back—he’s setting the pace for you. And when you finally say yes? He’ll give you the kind of first time most women only dream of.”
Evelyn took a slow sip of wine, her hands no longer shaking.
Jules nudged her with a grin. “You’ll be just fine, sweetheart. You’re already his. And he’s already yours.”
Evelyn smiled softly, a little dazed, a little electric.
For the first time, she didn’t just feel nervous about what was coming.
She felt ready.
- Writer
