“Of course, baby. You won’t even need words if you don’t have them. Mind if I play some soothing music in the background, or do you just want quiet?”
“Soothing is fine.”
I laugh at an old inside joke when he pops on the Kenny G at doctor-office levels, but itisrather soothing.
I rest my head against the glass and watch as the city gives way to hills.
14
Thane
Just as he said he would be, Ronan is quiet as we dip down into the winding section of 2222. The only time he makes a sound is when he sighs as we pass under 360, but is silent again by the time we make it up the big hill. He finally sits up and grabs my hand when we pass 620 and dip back down into Bullick Hollow before cutting across to Comanche Trail and navigating the windy, hilly bits up to my house.
Turning off the narrow road into a nearly hidden drive with trees arching overhead, I start to feel a little anxious. “So…this is my house. I hope you like it.”
Despite the strain of this afternoon, his eyes go round, and his mouth drops open, his expression one of pure joy. “Oh my god, Thane. This is beautiful.”
Seeing it through someone else’s eyes—the mid-century modern style, the dual-pitched roof, the soaring, angled windows that face Lake Travis, the craggy cliff face and native trees that surround the property—makes me smile with a not-small amount of pride. What makes the architecture stand out are the gorgeous limestone slabs making up the exterior, support beams in Texas juniper, and the tin lining the roof.
When I bought the property out here, there was an older house on it that had fallen into such disrepair that the county declared it uninhabitable. The quirky older houses in these hilly neighborhoods are giving way to development communities, or, worse, mega-mansions, and I suppose that with my Guardians money I could’ve paid outright for a mega-mansion of my own. But that’s not my style.
While my property technically runs from the hills above my house down to the lake, the location of the original building was the only place that had enough of a footprint for a house, unless I wanted a cantilevered monstrosity built into the face of the hill, which I did not. At a little under two thousand square feet, my place is damn near minuscule in comparison to some of my neighbors, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“This architecture…it’s what you always talked about, right?”
I pull him to me as we walk toward the front door, touched that he remembered.
“Yeah, actually. Even has a nice deck out to the side to take advantage of the view.”
I grew up in and around Austin, and by the time I was a teenager, we were already living in the wealthy Westlake area. By then I knew that I wasn’t what my father had in mind for a son, and that being part of the fancy set meant the embarrassing, chubby offspring often had to stay in his room during the many cocktail parties my parents hosted.
My fondest memory is from when I was young, and we lived in the University Hills neighborhood. It was a neighborhood in transition, and we lived in an odd little cul-de-sac that had many types of homes, one of which was a beautiful mid-century modern. My mother had fallen in love with it the moment she’d seen it, and we spent the first half of my childhood there. We made memories as a family back then. We went on bike rides up and down the steep hills together, swam at the neighborhood park, got ice cream cones at the local sub shop. I remember us being happy.
While this area is distinctly different from my old neighborhood, the house in front of us is a modern, updated version of my childhood home. Not entirely sure what that says about me.
Ronan cocks his head, looking at me funny. Guess I’d gone quiet on him.
I shake my head. “Sorry. Felt sorta nervous about showing you my home.”
“Why? It’s beautiful,” he says, holding out his hand as he starts on the footpath that leads off to the side. “I want to see this deck of yours.”
I grab his hand, and the simple contact sends my heart racing.
The tree-lined path around my house has a sense of magic about it, at least in my estimation, and opens up to a gorgeous view of Lake Travis; the dark, cloudy skies from earlier this afternoon a distant memory. Ronan jogs over to the railing, climbing up to take in the panoramic overlook, the sun low in the sky.
“Whoa…stunning,” he says, leaning over the railing.
My heart lurches in my chest. “Ro, please come down from there,” I plead.
Unbothered, he ignores me and instead stares in wonder at the view I’ve been taking for granted. I growl as I tug him back onto the solid deck by his waistband. He laughs and leans against me, rubbing my belly.
“This is perfect, T,” he says, smiling softly as he gazes into my eyes. He stands on his tiptoes, kissing me before he whispers, “Best view in the city.”
My inhale is shaky, as is my hand when I cup his jaw, mesmerized. “I beg to differ.”
We kiss, sweeter and softer than ever before as the golden sunlight caresses his skin. His smaller frame is engulfed by my arms, and yet, I’m the one at his mercy.
We stand there, on the edge of the world, holding each other as the sun continues to sink lower. The chill in the air finally drives us to the covered deck, which is more like a modern pavilion. It’s open on three sides with sturdy, beautiful cedar planking for the floor, back wall, and angled ceiling. The supports are adorned with flowing white drapes, tied in place, and there’s outdoor lounge furniture set in a semi-circle around a firepit.
