Noah hears too fucking much. He sees too fucking much. How he can miss the storm under Ronan's skin right now, he has no idea. The spot on his neck still burns.

Warm hands cup his face, holding him in place to stare into Noah's blue eyes.

"Fuck, you know what I'm thinking," he says, his voice nearly a growl, because he doesn't know how to put this into words. He never has. Noah can hear his thoughts and, for once, Ronan almost desperately wants him to so he doesn't have to say it.

A little in love with all of them. If that had been Blue's secret than maybe Ronan's is, A lot in love with three of them.