Iris
We were on a private plane to Germany,and I was snuggled up with my sister, sharing her earbuds to listen to Unrequited’s new album. She was as musical as me, but she would never perform. She was content to be in the audience.
I invited her to come to Germany for the weekend because her boyfriend sucked, her roommate sucked, and I missed her. We lived in the same city but had to travel to another country to actually hang out.
Ronan was seated facing us—the rest of the band was scattered around the plane—typing away on his laptop, but every few minutes, I felt him observing. Having his eyes on me made my skin warm and heat pool low in my belly. More than a week of nothing but fucking day and night had done nothing to dissipate my desire for him. If I was honest, it had ballooned into something so big, I sometimes got antsy and didn’t know what to do with myself. But he was always there, my stoic sentinel, watching and making me feel more secure than I ever had.
Finally, he closed his laptop and openly studied the two of us. “What are you listening to?” he asked.
“Unrequited’s new album just dropped.” I patted June’s knee. “My sister is a major music buff and Unrequited is by far her favorite. I’d be insulted The Seasons Change didn’t take that spot if I didn’t love Unrequited too. Nothing beats Maeve O’Day on the drums.”
June shifted and leaned into me. “Diego Garza was fire, though.”
“But he quit the band, and we don’t do quitters around here.”
“He had his reasons.” My sister had an age-old crush on the former drummer of Unrequited even though she would never admit it.
“Do you play an instrument, June?” Ronan asked.
She barely glanced at him. June was shyer than shy, and men intimidated her on a good day. With Ronan being older, massive, and so handsome, he made my heart slam about in alarming ways, there was no hope of June being comfortable around him. At least not yet.
“Piano and guitar,” she answered. “But nothing like Iris.”
“She lies. She’s incredible.”
“Our mom was a singer,” June told him. “She toured with a folk band before she had Iris.”
I nodded. “Dad knocked her up and killed her dreams. She only sang to us after that.”
Ronan peered at me as if I’d just unveiled the answer to the mystery of the universe. The villain’s origin story. The reason I fought him like a bucking bronco when I felt my control being stolen. I’d shared a little bit of what my childhood was like, but never the true details.
I peered back at him to convey the message that I’d slit a man’s throat if he tried to stop me from touring and singing—even if his baby was growing in my belly. I was not my mother.
He chuckled like he understood and was delighted. His gray eyes glowed as he grinned at me.
“Can’t imagine not wanting to watch my woman on stage.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t compute.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Our dad’s a different breed. He didn’t want to share even a breath of my mother with anyone else. He put her to work in his office, tucked in the back, so he’d be the only one to have access to her. Now, he keeps trying to convince June to work for him when she finishes school.”
“What about you?” He pressed his fist into his palm. It had to be an unconscious gesture, but he looked like he was ready to crack some heads if he needed to.
June and I shared a glance, then we both sputtered a laugh. “Oh, I’m a lost cause. Have been for a long, long time.”
Ronan didn’t laugh. His eyes reflected a mixture of pity and anger. I hated that. I’d gotten over my dad’s rejection with pure grit. But Ronan cared about me, so I knew that was the place he was coming from. I tucked away my metaphorical throat slitter and snuggled with my sister, smiling at the man across from me to let him know he could stand down. Everything was all right.
Somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic, June fell fast asleep, so I moved to the seat beside Ronan for a visit.
“Hello there,” I cooed.
He brushed my hair behind my ear and trailed his knuckles along my jaw. “Hello to you too.”
“How are you?”
“Wishing like fuck I could kiss you.” His eyes were glued to my lips, but he was so disciplined, I knew there was no way he’d allow himself even a taste—not while he was working.
“Are you bodyguarding me on this airplane?” I teased.
“I’m always watching over you,meala.You know that.” His thumb pressed the center of my bottom lip. “Seems like kissing you in front of your band is a boyfriend thing to do.”