CHAPTER19
Calista didn’t move from the couch. “Sleepy.” Her voice was almost incoherent.
She could stay over. He’d do the same for any of the guys who passed out on the couch. He’d toss a throw over them and let them sleep it off right there. Calista wasn’t a guy though. Her phone was on the entry table with her keys. Ronan went over, pocketed her cellphone for her, and returned. He lifted her into his arms and carried her up to the guest room. Her weight was light, her body soft and curvy. Holding her in his arms was the opposite of when the guys bummed a room, and his body was having the opposite reaction.
He placed her on the bed, tugged off her shoes, and shifted the comforter so she was covered. There. He put the phone near her pillow so she’d find it when she awakened and would not worry.
Ronan left with one last look and shut the door.
* * *
Whirr. Whirr. Clip. Whirr. Whirr. Clip.The soothing mechanical rotation was broken by a catch.
Calista blinked her eyes open. Dim morning light filtered through the blinds. Awareness as to where she was hit her in the next minute. She had stayed over in Ronan’s guest room. The seams of her jeans rubbed against her legs, and her jersey was bunched at her waist.
Calista checked her phone, but the battery was dead. Someone needed to invent a battery that worked on room temperature air or pollution. Not that anyone would be concerned about her. Her parents were on their cruise, and Piper mostly stayed at Mikah’s house. After a lifetime of checking-in, she felt disconnected.
Whirr. Whirr. Clip. Whirr. Whirr. Clip. The whirring plea of the machine that needed a tune-up called to her. Calista ignored the sound and found the unfamiliar ensuite bathroom.
Bedhead couldn’t be fixed without shampoo. Washing her face with hand soap wasn’t great either, and she really wanted to change. Most people put on pajamas before bed. Her pet peeve, to sleep in dirty clothes and then have them on the next day, made her antsy. She had yoga clothes in her car. Yes, be right back shower.
Calista toed on her shoes and headed to the hall. The whirring noise was louder here, distracting her, and she followed the sound to the doorway of an exercise room.
Her heart almost stopped at the view.
Ronan was running on the treadmill. Basketball shorts revealed the strength of his legs, his tank top revealed his biceps. No one had bodies like hockey guys, incredible specimens, and Ronan’s was the best, tall, sporty, and strong. The Snowers were so lucky to have him.
“Hey.” Ronan gave her a nod and kept running.
“Mind if I take a shower?” Her voice came out sleep husky.
“Not at all.” His own voice was clear and easy, as if he’d been up and about for hours.
Whereas she couldn’t even get her sleep-wake cycle right. “Thanks.” Calista tugged on the hem of her jersey. “Love this but hate to wear the same thing twice.”
“I’ve only seen you in that.” His voice deepened. “Almost only that.”
Calista grinned. “I have more than one jersey.”
Ronan pointed behind her. “My room’s across the hall, help yourself.”
Calista’s interest perked up, and she nodded. She didn’t tell him about her yoga gear and that her bag was full in the car. Normally, it would be empty by now, but with Mom on the cruise, Calista hadn’t been to the yoga studio to refill her locker. She had three of her own clean t-shirts in there. She wasn’t stupid enough to turn down Ronan’s offer of rummaging through his closet though.
Calista wandered across the hall, through a bedroom decorated in masculine green and black tones. His room did need a makeover. The space would look great with a light blue Snowers comforter. She could imagine Ronan laying on top. Whew, she’d burn down her phone battery taking pictures of that. She smiled to herself and found his closet, foreign territory.
The space was large and cedar lined. The closet was the size of her bedroom at home but laid out like a high-end men’s store with suits on one side and casualwear on the other. The stack of t-shirts was easy to spot. She walked to the back of the closet breathing in the masculine cologne that lingered in the air and snagged a light blue shirt and a green one. She left and dropped them in the guest room.
Whirr. Whirr. Clip. Whirr. Whirr. Clip.
The howls from the poor machine made Calista wince. She went back to Ronan’s home gym.
Ronan wiped his sweat-dampened face with a towel and smiled at her as he kept running.
Calista pointed to the tracks. “I can fix that for you, the sound.”
“Sure,” Ronan said easily. “I’ll be off in thirty.”
Pleased to have his trust and a mechanical puzzle to solve, Calista nodded and went down to the foyer. The alarm panel was lit green so she went outside, grabbed her phone charger, full yoga bag, and her heavy toolkit.