I should have been prepared. I should have dropped his hand. I should have had this talk with them in private, instead of having it in front of Ronan’s entire family. My face flames and my mouth opens, but words refuse to form.
Ronan saves me yet again. ‘Would it be okay if I was?’
‘No,’ Isla shouts, pushing her chair back from the table and jumping to her feet. ‘It wouldn’t be okay. It would be awesome!’ Little feet patter across the kitchen towards Ronan and me.
‘Please, Mammy, please, let him be your boyfriend.’ Her small hands grab my thighs. ‘He’s so much fun. He splashes usin the pool when you’re not looking. He gives us lollipops when you burn dinner. And he has the best dance moves I’ve ever seen.’
Laughter erupts around the room, but I feel the weight of every eye in the room on me. Especially from the man to my right.
‘Well, I guess he kind of is…’ Heat flushes from my neck to my cheeks.
‘Yeah!’ Isla squeals and beckons Eden over to join us. Ronan sweeps both girls up into his arms, positioning one on either hip as if they’re weightless. His face leans forwards and he presses a kiss against my forehead.
‘Welcome to the family.’ Mrs Rivers appears at my side, and I melt into her motherly hug.
I’ve been alone for so long.
The magnitude of this moment makes me want to cry a river of happy tears.
I have no idea how this is going to work out.
But what I do know is that I want it to.
The question is, do I want it more than I want to be Single Sav?
Because I’m going to have to choose, sooner rather than later.
Even though the twins know Ronan and I are together, he continues to sneak out of my bed each morning before the girls wake up. It’s one thing knowing he’s my boyfriend, but seeing the implications of that title first-hand is another thing entirely.
The kids are delighted Ronan and I are together.
My dads are delighted Ronan and I are together.
Ronan’s family are delighted.
I’m fucking delighted.
But what will the Single Sav fans say?
As happy as I am with Ronan, I feel like there’s a shadow lingering over me. A giant question mark-shaped cloud.
What will my business model be?
What about my book deal?
My blog subscribers?
The thought whirs through my head in the early hours of every morning. Ronan stirs beside me, the early morning sunlight filtering over his face. His strong jaw and chiselled cheekbones are a work of art. Is it any wonder I’m considering giving up everything I’ve ever worked for to be his?
But what if I do give up my single brand and he leaves me? The twins’ dad did. Hell, my own mother left me. Why would Ronan stay?
‘Morning, beautiful.’ Ronan’s thick, fair lashes flutter open and he tugs me flush against his bare, taut torso. His muscular chest has become my favourite pillow, the soft thudding of his heartbeat my new sleep soundtrack.
‘Good morning.’ I nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his deep masculine scent. ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘I always sleep well next to you.’ His lips brush over the top of my head in a tender gesture. ‘Probably because you wear me out so thoroughly beforehand.’ His palm slides over my skin to cup my ass.
‘How is it Friday again?’ The time is flying. The shoot is next week. I’m half excited, half terrified.
