Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
I’m somewhat surprised by the fact that Lachlan seems to have told me more about Ronan than even Mack knows, and I have to think it’s for a reason. But then I remember what he said and try to tell myself that this is for the best. That I need to let Ronan go and concentrate on my future.
“I don’t get it either,” I reply. “I know next to nothing about him. And it doesn’t matter anyway at this point.”
“Doesn’t it?” Mack asks softly.
“No,” I say firmly, still feeling the tug in my chest at the way he left the other morning. “I meant what I said, Mack. When Ma is gone, I can’t stay here anymore. I just can’t. It’s time for me to get out of this vacuum.”
“Okay, Sash,” she says. “If that’s what you want, then I respect that. And I fully back you up on whatever you choose to do.”
Chapter Fifteen
Sasha
I’m lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling when I hear him come in.
He isn’t loud. In fact, he’s so quiet it only serves to remind me who he is and what he does. I don’t even know how he’s getting into the apartment. Or when this habit of his started. Any normal person would be upset. Freaked out, probably.
But when I feel the bed dip and the leather from his gloved hand as he reaches out to touch me, I’m enveloped by a sense of calm. Relief. I feel safe with him, this killer. This man with the somber brown eyes who I don’t understand, but want to more than anything.
“Ronan.”
My bedside lamp turns on, and he blinks down at me. “Ye’re awake.”
“I am. How’s your shoulder?”
“Almost good as new,” he answers. And for some reason, I think he actually believes that.
He has a cheap plastic shopping bag next to him. It looks out of place resting beside this sharp dressed man with the flawless hair and suit. On the outside, he’s so perfect it’s hard to believe I could ever measure up to him.
I’m sullied. Tarnished. Unclean.
And yet he’s looking at me right now like he’s never seen anything more angelic in his life. His eyes are unguarded and open. It doesn’t happen often. And I’m honestly surprised he’s here at all after what happened the last time.
He comes and goes as he pleases. When things get uncomfortable, he runs. But somehow he always knows when I need him. And tonight, I do need him.
“What do you have there?” I gesture towards the bag.
His cheeks flush as he dumps the contents onto the bed. There’s an entire armory of condoms, lube, foams, and other over the counter birth control methods.
“I didn’t know which ones you like,” he says.
His eyes are avoiding mine, and I’m grateful. Because I’m smiling. He’s overwhelmed and uncomfortable. I don’t know why he gets like that. But I’m curious as hell the more I get to know about him. I want to know how many others he’s been with. I want to know why he’s so keyed up about something that is second nature to the majority of the men he spends time with.
But I also know that those subjects will likely push him away, so I don’t ask.
I grab a box and open it, handing him the foil packet.
“We only need one to start with,” I offer.
The room is quiet while Ronan stares down at the packet in his hands. After a pause, he tries to tear it open. It doesn’t work. He’s fumbling with it because he’s being too rough, and there’s a red flush creeping up his neck.
I place a hand on his shoulder and he startles. “Do you want some help?”
“No,” he clips out.
I bite my lip and wait, and eventually he gets it open. When he pulls out the condom, he stares at it again. I can’t see his expression, but he keeps tugging at his collar and the vein in his neck is now throbbing.
It’s only when he gets up to leave that it occurs to me he doesn’t know what to do with it. I jump out of bed and chase after him, catching him around the arm. He’s staring down the hallway, desperate to get away. His skin is on fire beneath my palm, and I know he’s counting the steps to the door.
He’s frustrated. And I don’t know what to do in this situation. Because he won’t tell me what’s wrong. So I take a chance, and leaning up on my tiptoes, pull his gaze down to mine.
“Come back,” I whisper. “I don’t want you to go.”
His gaze dips to me, and he studies me like I confuse him. Like he doesn’t know what keeps bringing him back here. To me. But he isn’t trying to leave. He isn’t saying no. So I reach down and link our hands together and pull him along behind me. When we get to the bed, I gently push him down on the mattress. I shove all of the products he bought save for one condom into the nightstand drawer so he doesn’t have to think about it. And then I crawl up and kneel beside him.