"Just shine like you always do."
Gwenn Davidson has always known she was adopted, but after clearing up her stuff for her first move out of her parent's house, she finds an old blanket gifted to her by her birth mother that triggers an avalanche of...
HER FINGERS FUMBLED WITH the lock of her front door, but after a few tries, they stumbled inside. Ronan hurried to the couch, throwing his collapsing binder onto the cream cushions. Papers and stray pencils spilled out, but he wasn't concerned about it when he turned to her.
Gwenn stared from the entrance to her apartment, still regaining her breath from the whole ordeal. Her stomach was queasy, gurgling softly under her hitched intakes of air.
"He's the worst, isn't he?" Ronan whispered.
Those words were like the last of the tidal wave, and they crashed down over her back. She struggled to stay upright.
"I think he's worse than he lets on." Even as she said it, her mouth tasted bitter. Like she submerged from the surf to be spoon-fed a serving of pure ash.
Wolf Lawrence proved time and time again that he did not care about being the bad guy, so long as he got what he wanted. He had cornered Gwenn, and she had no idea how to escape. And now he was taking advantage and trying to seduce her, though she didn't know for what. He already had blackmail to move her around like a foolish puppet. What else could he possibly want?
She sighed and placed all her belongings over her coffee table. "Want anything to drink?"
Ronan shook his head. "No, thank you."
"Well, I'm getting something," she said, waltzing into her kitchen. "Though I wish I had something stronger than a ginger ale."
He chuckled, following her into the small space between her counters and cupboards. She pulled open her fridge, welcoming the gust of cold air to tamper down the heat rushing to her neck and cheeks. She proceeded without much focus towards him, though he stayed put in a corner, lingering like his name whispered into her ear every time she fell asleep and woke up.
After she poured her desired drink on a glass, she turned to him, finding him already staring. She liked to consider her kitchen pretty spacious, though she understood it wasn't the biggest thing, but with Ronan in it, she felt like it had shrunk in size. She leaned against the opposite counter beside her sink, while he rested against the other side, and she felt like the distance between them only shortened, pulling them together like they were magnets fighting against the inevitable force.
Gwenn gulped a large sip of her ginger ale.
"Are you okay after what he said?" Ronan asked. His voice pierced the tense air like a sharp knife. She set down her glass on her counter, letting it clack.
"No," she admitted. Thinking back to Wolf only made her insides worse, sloshing her drink inside dangerously. At least she was next to her sink if need be. "But I'd much rather forget about it. I don't need to waste any more of my thoughts on that guy."
He nodded, tapping his fingers over his other bicep. She followed the movement, then looked up at his face. A shadow crossed over his eyes as he studied his black converse. In the light of her kitchen, she noted the tense shoulders and stiff posture, almost like Wolf was still within them saying his inappropriate comments.
"You don't look well," she pointed out before she could think about it. Ronan slumped forward and ran his hands down his cheeks.
"I'm stressed about this internship," he confessed, running his fingers over his hair, messing it up until it fell over his eyes once more. She grasped onto her glass of ginger ale to stop herself from crossing over and touching the raven strands. "I'm doing this car model, and I don't know. I'm a little...I'm terrified."
Her eyes softened. A strong urge to pull him into her embrace overcame her, she wanted to grab his enormous frame and wrap all of her limbs around him. "Ronan, I know you're doing an amazing job, and Carson and the entire MNTR company is going to recognize those efforts. You're gonna do great."
"But..." he trailed off, letting out a sharp exhale. "What if I don't get that spot? What if after what everything Wolf's done, my efforts don't measure up?"
She couldn't form words, her body reacting by losing all feeling. Leaning back against the counter was the only thing that kept her upright, otherwise, she would have become a blob on her linoleum floors.
"After everything I've done to get to this point, the rich one is gonna snatch it all away, like I predicted," he ended on a whisper. "And I get it. He has more connections, more opportunities, and he does good models. He's a great engineer through and through."
"He doesn't deserve it," she grumbled. Electrifying currents flickered through all of her body, igniting her blood beneath her skin until feeling came back to her limbs. Wolf could deserve it if he worked for it like a decent human being, but he was far from that.
"It's still a contest." Ronan sighed, slouching to rest his arms on the counter. He stared out into the living room, a faraway look in his eyes. "I need to start thinking of my next steps."
Gwenn finished her drink and stalked to him, forcing him to look down at her. Her hands grabbed at the collar of his shirt, scrunching it up in between her fist. Her moves were quick, almost like she didn't have control over her mind as she tugged him down to meet her eyes.
"You are getting that spot. Wolf be damned." Gwenn tightened her grip on the black fabric. Ronan said nothing as she raised a finger with her other hand. "It may be a contest, but Wolf does not and will never measure up to you. People like him will always get chomped on in the end."
His hands reached for her waist, but stopped midway. She tried not to notice the way his fingers curled up as he retreated. She held onto him like she was pulling him out from dangerous waters. She was safe land, and he had been grappling for something solid to hoist himself up.
"What if he does win?" he asked, soft and barely a whisper. "What if he does something better? He's been doing that lately. He could turn in a final project that goes beyond what I have in mind."
Gwenn shook her head. "Trust me, Ronan. He won't."
She wouldn't let him.
"You don't know that," he said, almost resigned.
Even though she had him in a loose chokehold, he slumped forward as if her fist wasn't near his neck. She let go of his collar and grabbed his face. His eyes widened, his skin heating under her touch.
"You're gonna get that spot," she reassured him. Her voice carried finality. "So make that car and forget Wolf ever existed. He can go cry to daddy later. Okay?"
Wolf's past threat echoed in her ears like a haunting whisper. She ground down on her back molars. Her mother's position was hanging by a thread because of her actions, but she knew her mother hadn't raised a woman that would fall in line because of a man who was on too big of a power trip.
Ronan wrapped his hands around her arms. She loosened her grip on him, but he stepped into her, throwing her arms over his shoulders as he finally encircled his arms around her. With their bodies pressed flushed together, she could barely form a coherent thought, but she managed to grasp onto his soft murmur.
"Okay."
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