CHAPTER22
Curious about his ex, Calista followed Ronan downstairs.
She’d describe Bria as tall, with dark hair, and deep tan skin. Bria wore a tight red dress with stilettos, and she was gorgeous. Wearing slinky red dresses took confidence and a more vivid coloring than Calista had. Calista felt weird about meeting Bria but couldn’t put her finger on why.
Bria stared straight at Calista. “Who’s this?” Her question came out like she had a right to know.
Ronan stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “Calista Amvehl, potentially the new owner…and friend.”
Calista’s heart warmed at the word friend, though the way Ronan said the word felt cursory rather than as a declaration of friendship.
To be friends with Ronan Stromkin, that would be something. Calista gave a small wave, but by the time she finished the gesture, Bria’s focus had fully zeroed back in on Ronan.
Bria touched her index finger to the corner of her mouth, but her matte scarlet lipstick didn’t smear. “I left my cashmere sweater here.”
Calista got that. She left stuff places.
Ronan looked at Bria blankly. “I’m sure the housekeeper would have set it aside. I’ll check the laundry room.” He left the foyer and returned carrying a fluffy red sweater.
Calista stayed quiet, not knowing how she fit into the scenario. Going back upstairs would feel like running away but being the awkward third wheel didn’t feel great either. Calista went and got her laptop from the end table and curled up on the window seat out of the way. She stared at the blank screen then peeked over at the former couple.
They were striking together with their opposite coloring as they stood there talking.
The tinge of jealousy she was feeling surprised her. Why did she care who Ronan liked? Was she getting possessive? Attracted? Sure, he was the most stunning man she’d ever been near, but all the players had great bodies, his was just better. His crooked smile and those intelligent blue eyes, his thick light brown hair, he was a handsome man.
She wasn’t into Ronan, not like that. Her family teased her about her crush on him, but her fondness wasn’t romantic. Her admiration was natural as a hockey fan, not hormonal. She simply had an awareness and appreciation of his skill. She also loved the interest in his eyes when he listened to her, how he put her at ease, and the way his hand felt when he touched her.
He was truly perfect. Her heart beat in a trippy rhythm. Even if she were a hint of a smidge drawn to him, her interest wouldn’t matter. She was blond, quiet, and a lot for most people to take. A lot. A lot. Ronan’s ex had walked in the door and cleared any delusion that Calista had that she was Ronan’s type. He evidently liked loads of heavy dark perfume, black hair, and slinky women. Her brain tightened. Calista held in a groan. When had her admiration turned amorous?
Ugh, she hadn’t even powered on her computer. She was being silly. Calista put the laptop down and went upstairs to gather her clothes. When Calista returned, Bria was gone, and Ronan was in the kitchen.
Calista found the laundry room and got her load started. After that, she took her laptop to her room until it was time for the switchover, and then she returned and tossed the wet clothes into the dryer. Calista hit the start button, and the familiar churn made a nice white noise. She sank against the floor, opened her laptop, and played on the internet until the dryer buzzed.
Calista scooted forward to pry open the warm door and used her gym bag for a hamper. Taking one item out at a time, she started with Ronan’s shirts, the ones he’d loaned to her. Each was the right size and softness to be her new favorite sleep top. She folded them, reached into the hot drum, and scooped out her own stuff last.
Imagine having to do this chore for a ton of clothes, or a family’s worth of clothes. The removal would be so much more efficient if the backend of the dryer tilted and dumped out in one go or if the dryer had a ramp. She could prop the ramp onto the opening so as she shoveled, the laundry would slide into a hamper. The ramp would be more work than a dryer that emptied for her, but it would be a cheap and efficient accessory. She’d try one out at home and give a copy to Ronan’s housekeeper to get feedback. Her mind spun around the practical and impractical aspects. She’d long wanted a top washer that emptied itself into a top loading dryer. How would that alter with this idea?
She pulled out her blue cotton panties last. Those comfortable hi-cuts would set no guy’s libido aflame. Piper was right, she should dress better.
* * *
Ronan stretched out his arms. Was Calista ever coming out of the laundry room? She wasn’t his woman, and he wouldn’t cater to her brooding. At least he understood the reason for her sulk. Jealousy. Bad luck that Bria stopped by, but that hadn’t been his fault, though he should have changed the door code. He fixed that omission as soon as he shut the door on Bria.
At least Bria left with minimal fuss, and no shoe throwing. Who acted so toxic and then thought they could pop by and be welcome? Ronan shook his head. Next woman he was with, he was going to schedule a ton of time with her so he could suss out all her crazy.
Calista emerged at last. She had her folded clothes in an open gym bag atop her computer. She slid her bag onto the end of the couch, shrugged on a number twenty-two jersey over her yellow exercise tee, and then she carried her laptop to the window seat.
The pretty blond hadn’t gone off on him yet, but it was coming. May as well get her rant over with. Ronan moved to stand near her feet.
Calista said nothing. The sunlight hit her hair, turning the gold mass sparkly. She was gorgeous. Not that her looks mattered, her intentions for his team mattered. Better keep her on an even keel and head off any bad mood. He’d let Calista know he was open to talking about Bria, but only in a shallow co-worker bumped into his personal life way. “The new door code is 4212.”
Calista said nothing.
The window seat was wide, but he was a big guy. Ronan nudged her feet toward the window to sit down with her.
Calista kept her eyes on her computer monitor. “Hello.”
Huh, he bumped her feet, and she talked. That had happened before. Nice, he’d found a way to pull her attention. Now all he had to do was say something easy and final about Bria. If Calista pushed, he’d set her straight that she didn’t get an opinion on his love life.