“I… don’t know,” I admitted. “One minute we were having a nice conversation, even if it was about sad shit, and the next you zipped up like a damn parka. You mentioned your ex, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that you were headed into something bad, and then I really didn’t like the idea of you doing it alone, all right?”
“Okay, but why are you in Seattle?” she pressed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in town when we talked earlier?”
“Why didn’t you ask?”
“Ronan,”
I shrugged. “Why am I here? Why am I here. I’m here… to discuss the annulment.” Technically, it was true. Even if I was stalling. I hadn’t quite figured out how exactly I was going to approach her with this idea in my head, despite the fact that I’d had six hours and change to figure it out.
She clearly wasn’t buying it. “I thought your lawyer was going to send some papers.”
“He is. Just not yet.”
“Ronan!”
“Look, it’s really not that complicated,” I sputtered, although it wasverycomplicated in ways she couldn’t possibly understand and in ways I could never tell her. “I like you, all right? You’re hot and alluring and I had this idea that I wanted to see you again before, you know, we decide never to see each other again. I have a private jet at my disposal, so I hopped on. You go to the movies on a Saturday night. I fly to Seattle to see my girl. That’s all there is to it.”
It wasn’tnotthe truth. It just wasn’t all of it. It was the part I could tell her.
By this point, her arms were crossed, and an adorable divot had formed between her brows. “Ronan…” she said again, almost like a hum.
Even chastising me, her voice was a damn song.
I pushed off the wall and took a step toward her, enjoying the way she mirrored me with a step back. Her expression, however, sparked.
“I don’t think that tone of voice has the effect you think it does, sweetheart.” I walked forward until she was the one pinned against the opposite wall, and I was able to brace one arm over her shoulder.
She bit her lip as her cheeks pinked. “Megan says it’s my teacher’s voice.”
I smiled. “How does a shopkeeper and archaeologist end up with a teacher’s voice?”
“By spending five years teaching introductory Greek courses and yoga classes to pay for grad school.”
Whatever I was expecting to hear, it wasn’t that. “Damn. If you tell me you wear those little cat-eyed librarian glasses, I might combust right here.”
She shook her head. “Just basic tortoise-shell frames, I’m afraid.”
I groaned. “Laney, you’re killing me.”
“And you’re distracting me.”
Unable to stop myself, I twirled one of the pieces of loose hair framing her face around my finger, then released it before tucking it behind her ear. “It’s a habit.”
“It’s annoying. And confusing.”
“I’m good at that, too.”
“I’m starting to see that.”
We studied each other for a long time, like two scientists trying to figure each other out. So, she was smart. Like really smart. Like, probably smarter than me, which wasn’t something I encountered much.
It only made me like her that much more.
“I really did want to see you again,” I told her. “Mentioning your ex just gave me a reason to do it sooner than I planned.”
It was the truth. Maybe not the whole truth, but did anyone ever tell the whole truth?
If there was one thing I knew about people, it was that everyone had secrets. I didn’t know Laney’s yet, but I was sure she had some. No one could be this perfect.
