Page 121 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

Elliot's expression didn't change.

“What if you couldn't?”

“Then we'd figure it out.”

“Together?”

Ronan stared.

“Obviously.”

There. Elliot breathed out. Not dramatically. Almost imperceptibly. But Ronan felt it beneath his hand. Ronan smiled faintly.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“You planning on revealing you're secretly running a cult?” Elliot laughed. Real. The tension broke. “Maybe.”

“I fucking knew it.”

“You'd join.”

“No.”

“You would.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You'd look good in robes.”

Ronan laughed. Elliot leaned into him. Their foreheads touched briefly. Nothing more. The closeness was enough. For now. “You believe me?” Elliot asked. Ronan's smile faded. “Yes.”

“Completely?” Ronan looked into his eyes.

“Completely.” The answer was true when he said it. That was what would hurt later. At 7:26 P.M., Dylan called. Ronan answered from the couch. Elliot was beside him reading. Or pretending to.

“What?”

Dylan's breathing came through the line.

“Cops searched my car.”

Ronan sat upright.

“When?”

“Hour ago.”

“Find anything?”

“I don't know.”

Elliot looked over. Ronan stood and walked toward the kitchen.

“What happened?”

“They took a jacket.”