RONAN (The Wolf Hotel)

They may as well make alarms to buzz like a hundred jackhammers drilling into concrete, because that’s basically what it feels like against my skull right now.

I groan, wishing I’d been smarter about the beer intake last night. But I wasn’t and I must have been hitting the snooze button because now I have exactly ten minutes to get ready before we have to leave for work.

I kick off the blanket I snagged from the living room—I didn’t think to bring any sheets and there was literally nothing in this room except a naked mattress on a frame, a nightstand, alarm clock, and a dresser—and haul my weary body out of bed. Making for the door with my toiletry kit tucked under my arm and my eyes half-closed, I narrowly avoid doing a face plant as I trip over the heap of clothes from last night. “Fuck,” I mutter, stumbling out my door and toward the bathroom.

A small body plows right into me.

The girl stumbles back into the wall, her headphones and water bottle tumbling from her grasp to hit the floor. She looks like she just came back from a run, her fair skin flushed, her T-shirt drenched in sweat, her brown hair pulled back into a damp, matted ponytail.

“Sorry,” I offer as she reaches down to collect her things, well aware that my briefs can’t possibly hide my morning wood. At least I’m wearing briefs. I normally sleep naked.

“Ronan! Hurry up or I’ll leave you here!” Connor hollers from the kitchen. He’s already dressed in Wolf Hotels maintenance crew garb—beige cargo work pants, a forest green collared shirt, and steel-toe boots.

When I turn back, the girl has already ducked past me and disappeared into her room without giving me so much as a glimpse of her face.

“That was Ryan,” Connor offers.

“Yeah, figured as much.” I sigh, heading for the bathroom. “I’ll be ready in five.”

~ ~ ~ ~

When I used the bathroom last night, there were no hints of a female. But now that I’m in the shower, there’s no missing the evidence—colorful bottles and razors line the shelves, and a giant pink puffy thing dangles from the showerhead.

Stepping under the water stream, I wrestle with the showerhead to raise it to normal height, accidentally knocking several of her shampoo bottles to the tub floor. The giant pink puff ball ends up there too, along with one of her razors.

I don’t have time to be picking up all this shit right now. I don’t even have time to shave the stubble from my jaw, and the Wolf employee code requires a stubble-free face. Hopefully my supervisor won’t be strict about it. It’s not like we interact with the guests, anyway.

Standing under the steady stream of hot water, I attempt to scrub my brain awake. My hair is buzzed so short, I don’t really need to shampoo, but the minty scent usually wakes me up. A minute of soaping down with my basic Irish Spring bar and then I’m slapping the tap and climbing out.

Shit. I forgot to pack a bath towel too.

Towels… sheets… a pillow…. I better make a list for tonight.

I open the narrow closet behind the door and find a small stack of towels on the second shelf. Below it is a shelf of various creams and bottles and boxes for monthly female issues, all lined up and facing out. Organized to the point of obsessiveness.

So Ryan likes things neat. I should probably remember that, if we’re sharing a bathroom. Something else to think about… later.

I grab a towel and wipe down quickly. Then, cinching it around my hips with one hand, I leave the bathroom.

And plow into Ryan again, this time on her way out of her room toward the kitchen.

“I’m… sorry,” she mutters, taking a step back, giving me an opportunity to get a good look at her face, still sweaty, flushed, and disheveled from her run. She looks nothing like Connor. Her eyes are large and round and hazel-colored, her cheekbones are high, her nose small and buttonish. Kind of average-looking, to be honest. Probably not a girl I’d take a second glance at, but by no means unattractive. She’s short, maybe five foot two, if I had to guess, the top of her head meeting my collarbone. She’s compact. One of those little body types that’s curvy but proportionate to her height, but if she’s not careful about her diet and exercise, the extra weight will be hard to hide.

As it stands now, though, she’s got a decent body.

“Dude! Hurry up!” Connor hollers.

Right. “Hey, I’m Ronan.”

She stares up at my face for five long seconds, her expression unreadable, before her gaze drops. “That’s my towel.”

I open my mouth to explain—and apologize—when she cuts me off, outrage twisting her face. “Are you fucking kidding me? You can’t just move in here and take whatever you want. That’s not how this works!”

Whoa. “I’ll wash it for you tonight.”

She throws a glare toward the kitchen. “Did you even vet this Neanderthal before you let him move in here?

Huh?

“Relax, Ry,” Connor says around a sip of his coffee, seemingly unbothered by his sister’s explosive reaction.

“Relax? How can I relax when you’re making me share a bathroom with one of the Screw Crew! I’m probably going to contract gonorrhea from the shower!”

I give Connor a bewildered look. Am I just imagining things or did Connor say his sister was super nice?

He merely shrugs in response, the small smile telling me he finds this amusing.

I don’t. And I have exactly two minutes to get dressed before I get left behind—because I believe Connor’s the type to do that. I don’t have time to stand here and be yelled at by my new pint-sized roommate. And if she’s going to be hurling insults at me….

I release my grip and let the towel drop to the floor. “You want your towel? There you go. Thanks for letting me borrow it until I can get to the store.”

Whatever Ryan was going to say gets lost on the tip of her tongue, her eyes widening as they take in my naked body.

Behind me, Connor bellows with laughter.

Her cheeks flaming, Ryan spins and darts back into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Screw Crew?”

“She doesn’t have the best opinion of our work colleagues. And you didn’t exactly prove otherwise with that stunt there.”

Fair enough. If the Miami guys are anything like the crew back home, they’ve got well-earned reputations for their conquests of the housekeeping staff. At least Connor doesn’t seem to be pissed at me for flashing my junk. “I thought you said she was nice.”

“You didn’t think that was nice?”

Jackass. “When exactly did you tell her I’d be moving in?”

“When she left for her morning jog. So, about twenty minutes ago.”

I turn to glare at Connor.

Still grinning, he nods toward my bedroom. “Come on. We gotta go.”

~ ~ ~ ~

“Of course we’re gonna work together!” Connor exclaims, as if any idea otherwise would be crazy.

Charlie, my new burly supervisor, no doubt strong but with a thick layer of cushion to disguise muscle, frowns up at me from behind his desk in the maintenance office. “You sure you want to put up with him all day? It’s already bad enough that you have to live with him.”

“I’ll survive.”

“All right. You two are stuck with each other then. You’re on trash this week.” His gray eyes roll over my stubbled jaw. “Is this the beginning of some new look? Or were you two just out too late last night to shave?”

Fuck. Not fifteen minutes in and I’m already getting grilled. “Which answer do you want?”

He smirks. “The one that means I don’t have to cite you for breaking the conduct code. Look, I’ll give you a pass today because you just came in from the Midwest and they’re more lax up there. But make sure you come in clean-shaven from now on. The hipster thing wouldn’t suit you.”

“Yes, sir.”

We’re almost out the door when Charlie hollers, “And trash duty on the beach does not take four hours, fellas.”

Connor gives him an innocent look that’s as fake as a three-dollar bill. “Never, boss. Two hours, tops.”

“Uh-huh.” Charlie buries his nose in his paperwork again, not buying the act for a second, but not reprimanding Connor further. I get the impression Connor is one of those guys who gets away with a lot of things in life that he shouldn’t get away with.

I’m not one of those guys. “Okay. So, where do we start? Parking lot? Kitchen?” If Miami’s anything like the Wolf back in Indianapolis, management is extra vigilant about keeping those areas clear of rodent-attracting debris.

Connor checks his watch. “If we hurry, we’ll catch the last half of the women’s volleyball practice on the beach.” He sighs. “And let me tell you, it’s a beautiful sight.”

~ ~ ~ ~

“This isn’t gonna take long, is it?” Connor grumbles. Our heavy footfalls echo along the windowless corridor in the hotel’s employee-only area. The Wolf hotel chain may be ritzy, but they’ve definitely saved their building budget for the parts that guests actually see.

“I don’t know. She said she needs a signature. Shouldn’t be more than a minute.” I got a message from an admin this morning, asking me to come in and sign some payroll papers that somehow got messed up in my transfer. I shouldn’t be surprised. The guy handling my transfer in Indianapolis wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.

“A minute, my ass. Do you know how slow they work in here?”

“You really are a whiny little bitch when you’re hungry.”

“Warned you, didn’t I?” Connor pushes through the glass door marked Administration, and into an office as plain as a hospital waiting room—windowless and beige, the kind of place that makes me only too happy to be picking up trash out under the hot Florida sun. I’d hang myself if I had to sit in here all day.

“Look, if I don’t do this, I don’t get paid, and if I don’t get paid, you’re not gettin’ rent money. So shut the fuck up.” It hasn’t taken long for Connor and me to get into a groove, throwing insults back and forth like guys who’ve known each other for years instead of less than a day.

Connor walks up to the counter that runs the full length of the room, keeping Wolf’s various “white collar” office admin staff—payroll, finance, customer service—and the “blue collars”—housekeeping, kitchen scullery, and maintenance crew—separated. He slaps the little bell.

And we wait, listening to the medley of fingertips tapping on keys, phones ringing, a low buzz of voices, and occasional cough.

Not one head pops up from a cubicle.

“Told you. An hour,” he mutters, hitting the bell again, this time twice and harder. “And fix your laces while you’re at it. Doesn’t that drive you nuts?”

I glance down to see that one of my laces is indeed undone and dragging. “Actually, I didn’t even notice.” As I’m crouching to retie it, Connor bellows, loud enough to carry through the entire office, “Yo, Tatum! Can you help us out so we can go eat? You know how I get when I’m hungry.”

Fucking guy is going to get us both in shit, hollering like that.

“Would you be quiet? People are taking reservations in here!” a female whisper-hisses.

I stand to find a brunette on the other side of the counter. She’s wearing the standard-issue Wolf admin staff uniform, and my eyes can’t help but immediately veer downward to where the white blouse stretches across her tits.

When I lift my eyes again, I find her scowling at me.

It takes me a good five seconds before I realize that I recognize that scowl.

“Oh, shit.”

“I told you Ryan works here, didn’t I?” Connor’s grin says he damn well knows he didn’t mention that and he’s enjoying every second of this. “She’s the admin coordinator for the housekeeping division.”

Ryan looks completely different than she did this morning, no longer sweaty and flushed from a run. Her brunette hair is piled on top of her head, and her rich hazel eyes are hiding behind a pair of dark-rimmed glasses. She’s still not wearing an ounce of makeup, from what I can see.

“What do you want?” she snaps, but I don’t miss the blush crawling up her cheeks.

“Someone left a message about signing a payroll form so I could—”

“Jean! Crew guy is here for you.” Ryan turns and stalks away before I can finish, leaving me with my mouth open midsentence, staring at the way her hips swing in that tight purple skirt, her tiny waist making her ass look bigger than it actually is. Not that I mind an ass that I can fill my hands with.

I shake my head at Connor. “Dick. You could have warned me.”

“Hell no. Not after this morning. That was priceless, by the way.”

“I’ll bet. Anything else important you want to share with me?”

“Yeah. I’m fucking starving.”

I roll my eyes as a tiny, cute Asian girl appears. “Ronan Lyle?”

“That’s me. I got a call about paperwork?”

She sets a form in front of me. “I need you to fill this out.”

“Hey, Jean.” Connor rests his elbows on the counter and flashes her the same stupid smile he was using at the beach all morning. The one that got him four different phone numbers. “Big plans for the weekend?”

She returns his smile, dipping her head to hide behind a heavy black fringe of hair as she lists her itinerary, hour by hour it seems. I tune her out right after “sewing club” comes up and set to quickly filling out the form.

“What’s our address again?”

Connor recites and I fill it out, all while feeling Jean’s black eyes appraising me.

“So this is your new roommate?”

“Yeah. Why? What did Ryan say?”

“Nothing.” The expression on Jean’s face says Ryan said something and it wasn’t at all pleasant. She drops her voice. “She’s in a bad mood today.”

“I noticed. Something going on with the douche bag?” Obviously Connor doesn’t like Ryan’s boyfriend and doesn’t care who knows it.

She glances over her shoulder and then whispers, “I heard they broke up last night, but I’m not asking.”

Connor’s face fills with understanding. “No wonder she’s being such a bitch.” A little louder, “Hey, Ry!” When she doesn’t answer, he raises his voice. “Ryan Tatum! I know you can hear me! Come over here!”

The sound of sandals stomping along the tile floor announces her approach before she appears. And the look on her face….

Connor really doesn’t want to keep his skin today.

“Would you stop being an ass!” she hisses.

He ignores her tone. “What happened with David?”

I keep my head down, pretending not to listen as I fill out the rest of my form.

“Nothing.”

“You two broke up?”

“So what?”

“So… you should tell me these things.”

“Why? You don’t give a damn. And it’s none of your business.” She’s trying to play it cool, but the slight waver in her voice at the end betrays her. Whatever happened, it mustn’t have been pretty.

“Come on. Don’t be like that.” The ever-present humor in his voice fades a touch.

Her lips twist. “You want to talk about something? Fine. Let’s talk about our nudist roommate.”

A few heads pop up over the cubicle walls now, curious eyes taking in the voices. Jean stares at me with her mouth hanging open.

“You had to be there,” I explain with a shrug.

“I’ll bet.” Her gaze skims over the ink on my forearm. If it were any cooler outside, I’d have to cover that up with a long-sleeved shirt. Employee conduct manual, page four.

“Oh come on, that was funny. And besides,” Connor reaches up to seize my chin between his thumb and index finger, “how could you be so mean to this poor guy? He just had his heart ripped out by a girl. All he wants is to be loved. Can’t you show him some love?”

I slap his hand away.

Ryan’s hazel eyes shift to my face. She really does have pretty eyes. I’ll bet her smile would be pretty, too. If she even knows how to. To Connor, she says, “Stay out of my business. And go eat. You’re more annoying than usual.”

“Yeah! I’m trying!” He taps on the desk as he strolls away, a wordless gesture to hurry up.

Jean giggles like he’s said the funniest thing. I want to offer her a bib to keep the drool from her blouse. I slide the completed form over instead. “Anything else, or is this good?”

 “No, you’re all set. Thanks for coming quickly.”

“That’s Ronan. He ‘comes quick.’ Tell all your friends.”

I wait until the door is shut behind us before I punch Connor in the shoulder. “There’s something wrong with you.”

“Yeah, my impending starvation.”

I roll my eyes. “You and Ryan have a strange relationship.”

“What are you talking about? It’s totally normal.”

“I think she hates your guts.” And yet she still lives with him.

Connor smiles. “Maybe a little bit.”

I shake my head. “How old is she?”

“Twenty-five.”

“So she’s your twin?” Connor’s twenty-five, one year older than me. Wouldn’t put it past him not to tell me he has a twin.

“Nah. She’s actually my half-sister. I guess our dad was a little busy cheating on my mom that year.”

This is all starting to make sense. “No wonder you guys don’t look anything alike.”

“I only met her a few years ago. She was moving to Miami from Orlando and she needed a temporary place. My dad asked if she could stay here.” He shrugs. “I said sure, I didn’t care. And she hasn’t left yet. She stays out of my life, I stay out of hers. It works, for the most part.”

“That explains a lot.”

“Like?”

“Why you haven’t threatened to pound the shit out of me if I try to bang her.” Like I did to all my friends back home when they so much as glanced at my baby sister.

“You kidding? I want you to try something with her. Just let me be there to see it. It’ll be fun watching her kick you in the nuts.”

I sigh. “Something is seriously wrong with you.”

He’s distracted from giving a retort by another crew guy coming around the corner. “Yo, Baker! What’s up? This is Ronan. He’s new.”

The blond nods once my way. “Not much. Hey, did you read that e-mail about Alaska?”

Connor’s eyebrows rise in question.

“They want us there a week earlier.”

“Seriously? But that’s like… two weeks away, then.”

“I know. They said they’ll reimburse flight changes though.”

“I haven’t even booked my ticket yet.”

“What? You’re nuts!” Baker shakes his head. “I booked mine months ago. I’ll let you know what I move it to. We should fly up together.”

“Definitely. Hey, we’re heading for Chipotle right now. Want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good. But thanks. See you guys around.” He keeps going down the hall.

And I’m left with yet another surprise courtesy of my new roommate. “You’re going to Alaska?”

“Yeah. That new Wolf resort is opening up.”

I remember the intercompany memo that went out last fall, encouraging Wolf employees to apply for jobs at the new seasonal Wolf near Homer, Alaska. I didn’t even look at it. I mean, it’s Alaska. Who the fuck wants to go there?

Apparently Connor. And in two weeks, based on what these guys were just talking about. “How long are you gone for?”

“Five months.”

“Jesus. You are nuts.”

“What? Didn’t you ever go to camp?”

I burst out laughing.

“They’re putting the whole staff up in a village of cabins! And paying us better than what they’re paying here.”

“Yeah, it’s called danger pay, because you’re gonna get mauled by bears and cougars and shit.”

He waves it away. “This is a Wolf luxury resort, not some Ramada Inn. They’ll have all that sorted.”

“You’re gonna be bored.”

He grins. “You’re kidding me, right? How long were you pussy-whipped by your ex?”

“Four years,” I admit reluctantly. “Why does that matter?”

“Because have you not noticed the housekeeping staff that Wolf hires?”

“Of course I have.” Wolf is notorious for hiring young, attractive employees. I don’t know how they get away with it without any labor discrimination charges tossed their way.

“Well, all those Housekeeping girls are gonna be in cabins a stone’s throw away from me, all summer long. Stuck on a resort with nothing to do but fuck hot crew guys. The last thing I’m gonna be is bored.”

“Fair enough.” Maybe I should have opened that e-mail that went out. Had I known Tasha was going to dump me, I’d probably be going to Alaska, too. “Well… fuck.” I shake my head. “You could have told me.” Here I am, making a fast friend of Connor, and he’s leaving.

He shrugs. “You should see if they’re still hiring.”

“I just started here. They won’t let me go there.”

“Won’t know if you don’t ask.”

“I don’t know.”

“Suit yourself.” He chuckles. “You and my sister will have a great summer together.”