Maybe they’re into sharing…
“It’s—no. Not really.” Ronan closed his eyes, blowing out a long breath. “Not at all, actually.”
“Ronan, seriously. What is going on with you tonight? Is it me? Did I completely freak you out?” I didn’t want to talk about my magic again, but if that’s what was upsetting him, I’d drag it all out in the open again, sift through every memory and every black bit of it until he felt okay.
But Ronan shook his head, guilt flickering in his eyes. “It’s not you, Gray. Never.” The muscle in his jaw ticked. “Darius made a promise that night we found you—weallmade a promise. No matter what came between us, no matter how many years passed or what fucked-up shit went down in the Bay, no matter what you ultimately remembered about that time in your life, we’d always look out for you.”
“Okay,” I said. “How is that a problem?”
“He’s supposed to have your back, and look what happened. That vamp attack? You never should’ve gotten in the middle of that shit.”
Was he serious right now? Darius’s actions tonight had been the very definition of having my back. And my front. And every other exposed part of me that would’ve made a perfect bloodsucker snack if he hadn’t been there to fight by my side.
“You aretrulyimpossible. You know that, right?” I tossed my spoon into the sink and stalked down the hall to my room.
He followed me, looming in my doorway as I dug through my dresser for a sleep shirt and boxers. I needed to go to bed. To shut my door and lock him out and crawl deep into a blanket cave until all this shit blew over.
“It shouldn’t have happened,” he said. “He shouldn’t have agreed to meet you at the morgue, especially without letting us know. And he should’ve found a way to get you out of that mess without a fight.”
“But itdidhappen, Ronan. And now you’re, what? Ready to stake him?” I slammed my dresser drawer shut. “Everything with you is so… so all or nothing!”
“Where you’re concerned? Absolutely.” Ronan stepped into my room, barging into my personal space, his presence overloading every one of my senses. The cloves-and-campfire scent of him, the fire in his eyes, the heat rolling off his body, the red-hot memories of our kiss, still searing my insides… all of it lured me closer, even as I tried to resist.
“What happened tonight got way out of hand,” he said. “It’s just another reminder that I'm not always going to be there to—"
“But every time I turn around, youarethere. Looking out for me. Bringing in backup. Paying my bills. Doing my job. Fighting my battles for me. Why?"
“What the hell kind of question is that? You’re my best friend, Gray.”
“Why, Ronan?”
I knew it wasn’t just about our tight friendship, or the promise the guys had made all those years ago. I also knew it wasn’t a simple answer, either. I had my own complicated feelings on the matter.
But for once, I needed to hear his.
The silence between us was unbearable, stretching on for so long I was beginning to think he’d just storm out of the room without answering. But then let out a soft groan, his guard dropping long enough to reveal the raw, vulnerable emotion in his eyes.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low and gentle. Fragile. “Why do youthink, Gray Desario?”
The look in his eyes had the power to melt me like a dish of ice cream left in the sun.
But I was tired of over-analyzing every look, every gesture. I needed the honest truth to back it all up. I needed to know, one way or the other.
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” I said, breaking our gaze and sitting on the edge of my bed. “It matters what you feel. It matters what’s true.”
Ronan sat down next to me, our legs touching from hip to knee, warm even through both of our clothes.
“Seven years ago, I watched you claw your way back from near-death,” he said. “And every day since, I’ve watched you fight for everything you have. I know the Bay isn’t an easy place—not for any of us—but you made a life here. You earned it. So when I think about someone taking it away from you—someone like the sick motherfucker who killed Sophie…” He closed his eyes, shaking his head as if he were trying to dislodge the very idea. “Losing you just isn’t an option.That’swhat I feel.”
When he opened his eyes again, they were red and glassy with unshed tears.
“Who are you?" I whispered, my own eyes glazing with emotion.
I’d been dying to ask that question since we met, and now that it was out, the words felt heavy and uncertain between us, like the wrong answer could destroy everything we had. Everything we’d built together. Everything that might still come.
I couldn't take them back.
Ronan shook his head. “You don't want to know the answer to that. You think you do, but trust me—"
