* * *
By the time we made it back to the suite after dinner, we both had flushed cheeks and full stomachs.
“Fireee,” Ro called, already halfway across the room as Ilocked the door behind us. He’d already thrown his coat on a chair and kicked off his shoes as he beelined for the dark fireplace to turn it on.
I quietly laughed, shrugging out of my coat and hanging it up, then doing the same for Ro’s.
Warm light soon flickered across the room, chasing away the last of the chill we’d brought in with us.
“God,” Ronan muttered, flopping down dramatically on the couch. “I’m not moving for the rest of the night.”
“You’ll move,” I said, already heading for the bedroom. “You’re not sleeping in jeans.”
“Watch me.”
“You won’t win that fight, nor do I think you actually want to.”
I didn’t wait for his response, already pulling a drawer open and grabbing out a pair of flannel pajamas. When I came back out, I tossed the clothes at him.
“Change.”
He caught them with a quietoof, peeking out from behind the fabric with a faint smirk. “Bossy.”
“Always.”
He didn’t argue, just rolled off the couch with a stretch, disappearing briefly to change and use the restroom. I took my time doing the same, trading out my own clothes for something softer.
When I reemerged, Ronan was already back on the couch, this time tucked into the corner, a blanket dragged over his legs.
I crossed the room and settled down next to him.
He snuggled up to me right away, his head settling against my shoulder, legs brushing mine under the blanket.
I let my arm come up around him without thinking, my hand resting warm against his side.
For a while, neither of us said anything. We just sat there, content to watch the fire crackle and listen to the wind brushing against the windows.
“I like this,” I said after a while, voice quieter than before.
“Mm?” he hummed.
“This,” I repeated, my hand moving idly along his side, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. “Getting away. No work. No messes to clean up.”
He was quiet for a second, then, lightly, he asked, “No killing?”
I snorted. “No killing.”
“A little killing..?” he tried.
I tightened my arm around him just slightly. “No.”
He tipped his head back just enough to look up at me, eyes glinting with that familiar mischief. “You’re no fun.”
“I’m plenty of fun,” I said, glancing down at him.
“I guess I could be convinced…” he trailed off, shifting just a little closer, his hand coming up to rest against my chest.
I exhaled softly through my nose.
